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One of the Blight twins was planned. For simplicity's sake, they said it was Emira, because she happened to push her way out first.
Her eyes were open when she did. She was quiet and still, and for a moment, the adults weren’t sure if she was alive. But her little chest was rising and falling like it should, and she turned her head to the side, like she knew he was coming.
Odalia was examining her already. Searching for any flaws. She had a good shape, she finally decided, and then Edric came. Literally kicking and screaming. Instead of viewing the bright lights of his new world with the cautious curiosity of his sister, he was terrified. That much was apparent, as the healers pinned down his thrashing limbs to try and examine him for any problems. His lungs were definitely fine. Alador watched from a distance.
He was placed next to his sister once he was also confirmed to be a healthy, albeit small, infant. Their tiny hands touched, and his head turned. He knew that hand. He knew that being, laying beside him. She was safe. He quieted down, his screams turning to coos.
“A boy and a girl?” Odalia asked. She received a nod from the healer closest to her. “Hm. That works out very well, doesn’t it?” She turned her head toward her husband, still lurking in the shadows. She got a slight dip of his head in response. Her gaze turned back towards the infants. They were innocent. They didn’t know the life they would face. They only knew each other.
Within a week, the task of keeping the infants alive was given to a few abominations. Three times a day, their needs were taken care of. Once in the morning, one in the afternoon, and once in the evening. Otherwise they stayed in the fancy crib in the middle of the guest room, like the lovely little ornaments they were meant to be.
Alador walked up to them, once. He looked down at them. They stared back. They had his eyes, he realized. He leaned over and lifted up one of the children who had randomly imposed themself upon his life, with the titles of daughter and son. The baby he happened to hold was Edric.
Edric screamed and thrashed, because his father was a stranger to him at three months old. Emira cried too, because of her brother’s distress. Alador threw him back down beside her and hurried out of the room, effectively frightened away for the rest of their infancy.
Emira learned how to effectively roll over, after another month had passed. Edric followed soon after. Now it was easier to look at each other. Infants examine and learn from the world around them. In this case, they were the world to each other. They knew nothing else.
Odalia took more of an interest once they were mobile. She talked to them, sometimes, about her plans for their future.
“The girl can crawl,” she told Alador as he worked, “the boy can’t. Neither of them seem particularly bright to me. Perhaps…” Her voice trailed off and she waited for him to turn around. He didn’t. He continued working.
Survival tactics were necessary in the Blight household. Alador’s had developed very early on. He did what she said, though he tried to fly under the radar and avoid any conversations altogether. He married her for her money, of course. It allowed him the funds he needed for his experimentations.
It was easier to stay quiet, as she insulted his little son for being somewhat physically behind. It was easier to stay quiet, when she lifted up his little daughter and criticized her body. It was easier to stay quiet, when she told him they weren’t good enough, that they needed to try again.
It was easier to stay quiet, when they were in bed and she made him do things he didn’t necessarily want to.
The twins were a year old, when she became pregnant with the next baby. They didn’t know. Nobody explained it to them. They were out of the crib now, though. Emira toddled around and paused every now and then, making sure her brother wasn’t lagging behind. He mimicked her as she pulled up on an expensive armchair, her eyes meeting his. They grinned at each other.
Her hand found a little gap in the fabric, a loose thread hanging from it. She tugged at it. He reached out and helped her. The gap grew wider, the inside material of the armchair now exposed and vulnerable to the little hands of curious babies tearing into it.
“What have you done?!” Odalia exclaimed when she finally entered the room, an hour later. The chair was ruined, the gash now running down the middle of the fabric. The material inside was ripped up and scattered across the room. Odalia’s hand went to her stomach, “it’s a good thing another one is coming. After the heartbreaking disappointment of the first two,” she lifted Edric up, throwing him in the crib he was getting too big for. He screamed. She lifted Emira up after. But she held her up before throwing her in beside him, icy blue eyes meeting soft gold, “you are the original disappointment. And to think, I had such big plans for you. After all of the effort and time I’ve put into you, you’ve already wasted them.”
A one-year-old couldn’t understand her words. But they could understand her tone. They were quiet for the rest of the day, curled up together in their crib, their legs bent so that they wouldn’t touch the wooden edge.
They grew and they learned over the next year. If they did something bad within the sight of their mother, they were thrown into the crib and admonished in a harsh tone. So they didn’t cause any mischief within her sight. They faded into the background when she was in the room, like good little ornaments.
“What adorable children,” visitors would say, and Odalia would smile and preen.
Their sister was born when they were two. A small, quiet thing, with brown hair and golden eyes. She was the picture of her father. Alador watched from the shadows again, as the baby let out a few cries, then quieted herself.
She passed Odalia’s initial inspection, though the woman in question did pull a face, as she looked over her features, “I suppose they can’t all be beautiful. Her eyes, though… She's intelligent. She’ll make this family strong.”
The twins were let into the room by an abomination servant, an hour after the birth of their baby sister. They scampered over, looking like they were practically one entity, as they stood beside the bed, heads tilted and eyes wide.
Odalia held the new baby out. She was asleep, her hands tucked underneath her cheek.
“Dolly!” Edric said, bouncing on his toes. Odalia held the baby back to her chest,
“No, child. This is your sister. Amity Blight. The future of our family,” she looked across the room, to the abomination servant, “take them away, now.”
The twin’s old crib became Amity’s, and they were given their own rooms, right beside each other. They just used Edric’s room. Emira’s room went untouched. They could walk, now. They still needed to be fed three times a day, and bathed every other day, but well-programmed abominations could take care of that little problem.
Amity had her own room as well. Clearly leaving infants to their own devices had produced little deviants, in Odalia’s eyes. This baby was watched every second of every day. There was never a moment when her mother or father’s eyes weren’t trained on her. And Odalia’s eyes were looking for failure from the very beginning.
Amity couldn’t mess up. Amity had never been able to mess up. She was an anxious baby, like Edric had been a sensitive baby and Emira a solemn one. She tossed back and forth, always looking at her mother’s face after she achieved any milestone. Pride made her content. Shame made her distraught.
Edric and Emira had taken to laying on the floor outside the bedroom door of their baby sister, listening to their mother speak. They were alright. On some level, they understood that. They had each other. There was always someone to smile at them, someone to snuggle beside, someone to play with. They were facing the world alone, but together. And they were getting good at it too.
Emira memorized the rules. She didn’t obsessively adhere to them, though, like the sister who followed. She subverted them, in small, mischievous ways. It was almost a game, to her and Edric. Seeing how much they could get away with behind their parent’s backs. When the world became overwhelming, they clung to each other. They had their survival tactic down by the age of 3. They stuck together.
Their magic developed around age four, and suddenly there was so much more to their little world. They created illusions for each other, Edric shrieking in delight whenever Emira created a little bunny, and it ran up the wall and across the ceiling. Emira smiled when Edric created a bird, and they watched the illusion fly together.
Amity’s magic began developing at two. She had a penchant for playing with abomination goo already, Alador watching her with curious eyes. She was just like he had been (then, anyway. She would become so much braver).
School was amazing. They passed their entrance exams with flying colours, and finally they had a place away from home, where adults would pay attention to them.
Things were good, from the ages five to eight. Their magical ability was growing, they were together, they were left alone at home, and they were friends with Amity too. She was still a nervous child. They heard snippets of Odalia’s conversations with her.
“Amity, is this how you repay our kindness and dedication to you? You need to make connections with the other children, they could be valuable business partners one day."
“I wish I could believe you. But all you ever seem to do is mess up, lately."
“You need to study harder.”
“You’re just like your father."
“When do you think she’s gonna burst?” Edric asked Emira one day, as they sat together in a tree outside of the Blight Manor. They were hiding for no particular reason. They just needed to get away from the overwhelming sights and sounds inside. Nobody had come looking for them. It had been six hours. They were seven.
“Who?” Emira asked. She reached out a hand and steadied her brother as he tried to balance on one foot while standing on a thick branch.
“Amity. Her face always gets so red when Mom gets mad at her. Like a burstberry. So when’s she gonna burst like one?”
“I dunno,” Emira leaned back against the trunk, “maybe she won’t. She does a lot of the things Mom says really well. She’s better than us.”
“Yeah,” Edric sat down, moving beside her. His head rested against her shoulder, “lookit the sky, Em. It’s so pretty. We should set off those fireworks tonight.”
“Yeah!” Emira grinned. The two loved fireworks. They made them noticeable, even if it was just to be yelled at.
When they were eight things went to hell, to put it lightly. Amity was six, the perfect age for the shaping of her life to intensify, Odalia decided. She was intelligent and obedient. She was the future. There was no need for a fourth child, now that that was confirmed.
Now there was just the problem of the two excess children. They were pretty, Odalia supposed. They always had been. That was their place. That was their job. To be beautiful little things to look at. To show the superiority of the Blight’s genetics. They were a little bit chubby for her liking, though. But that could be dealt with.
They had been playing together when she called them in. Edric fidgeted slightly as he stood in front of her, Emira humming and snapping quietly. Neither of them would look her in the eyes. That would need to be dealt with as well, but at a different time. She’d already dealt with Amity’s arm-flapping. “Edric. Emira,” she said, walking forward and placing a hand on each of their heads. They both flinched. “It’s time to start thinking about your appearances. A Blight takes great pride in their body and keeps it up to standard. You two need to do so now. You’ll join the family for dinner every day. Other than that, the kitchen is off limits. There will be an abomination guarding it at all times. I’m doing this for your own good.” With that, she turned and walked away.
Emira and Edric slowly looked at each other. Then they rushed to the kitchen, grabbing as much as they could and stashing it away for later, once Odalia established the guard.
The food lasted them two weeks. And then they were hungry. All the time.
Their portions at dinner were the smallest out of anyone’s, and it was barely enough to sustain them. They became weak and quiet. Withholding food from them was another method of control. They didn’t have time to get into trouble if every waking moment was spent thinking about eating and being full. School brought some relief. Even if the teacher’s had been told they shouldn’t eat for “medical reasons,” sometimes their friend’s were willing to give them a sandwich.
During breaks, though? They laid beside each other in their beds, staring at the ceiling and waiting for dinner.
“Emira?” Edric whispered one evening, “it hurts.”
“What does?” She whispered back.
“Everything. Mom and Dad are out on their trip, right?” She nodded. They wouldn’t be back until two days later. They’d left a babysitter for Amity. “If we could get past the abomination…”
“The alarm,” Emira said, shooting up, “in school, remember when the kids in the abomination track were making alarms? You just cut off the part under it and it stops. And we know spells that can do that!” Edric was already out of bed, standing on unsteady legs,
“We gotta be really sneaky. Like warrior frogs.”
“Frogs?”
“They’re sneaky to me. They always come up behind me.”
They went quiet as they slowly exited their room, creeping down the stairs and into the hallway near the kitchen. Emira cut off the alarm with a vine after peeking out of the corner of the hallway. The twins weren’t the strictest when it came to the coven system and what they learned.
Finally. Food. They took as much as they could and turned to leave.
Amity was standing in the doorway, watching them with wide eyes. “What are you doing?” She asked.
“Getting… food,” Edric said, “please don’t tell Mom, Amity.”
“You’re not supposed to be in here. That’s against the rules.”
“Amity, please,” Emira said.
They hid what they had gotten that night, which was the right call. Amity did in fact tell.
It wasn’t her fault. She was six and anxious and abused. It wasn’t the twins fault either. They were eight and starving. From then on, though, they weren’t friends with her. Sometimes they went out of their way, to trip her in the hallway or prank her in public. It felt good. Sometimes she told on them.
They were all too young to see Odalia in the background, pulling on the strings. The grand puppetmaster.
The twins got older and smarter. They slipped quick snacks before and after dinner and rationed their stolen food well. They weren’t as hungry anymore. They had each other. Everything was okay. Or, so Emira whispered to Edric, when a storm was particularly frightening. They had each other.
Emira’s body started to change. Odalia wasn’t a big fan. That was when she was given a concealment stone. Edric got one too later. The biggest change for Emira wasn’t the fact that her chest got bigger, or her hips got a little wider.
It was that swirling feeling in her gut that she woke up to when she was thirteen, one morning. Whatever. She was probably just hungry. It got worse over a few hours, shifting into a general cramping that had her doubled over in pain. She went into the bathroom after a little while of this.
She didn’t scream when she saw it. Just rubbed her hands over her face and stood up again. She knew that some people bled from their private area, when they got older. She’d learned that in school. She knew what she needed too. She’d learned that from her friends.
She swiped the supplies from her mother’s bathroom.
“Emira? You okay?” Edric asked from outside their own bathroom door, once she was inside it again.
“No,” she said back, cleaning herself up and washing her hands. She let him in after a moment. Her stomach was still cramping, her cheeks feeling hot as tears pricked in her eyes.
“What happened?” Edric put his hands on her shoulder, checking her over for anything obviously wrong. She motioned to the waste bin beside the toilet. He looked inside of it, “oh.”
They sat down together on the bathroom floor, Emira pulling her knees to her chest. Edric wrapped an arm around her, holding her close and rubbing her back as she cried.
She cried because she was thirteen and scared. She cried because she was in pain. And she cried because her brother was the only person in the world she had. And she loved him more than anything. But they both wanted their parents.
According to Odalia, though, they were too far gone to be worthy of any attention. They believed her too.
“You are both fourteen years old. I’ve let this go on far too long. Emira, you’re going to sleep in your own room from now on. That’s your room. You’re not to enter your brother’s room, and Edric, you’re not to enter your sister’s. You’re not children anymore. It’s time to grow up.” Odalia walked away, leaving Edric and Emira shattered once more. She was good at doing that.
Amity walked past their rooms, her arms full of books she could barely carry. She didn’t spare them a glance. Edric stuck out his tongue.
“Maybe it’ll be good,” Emira said hesitantly, “being in our own rooms, I mean. Most kids want their own rooms, right?” Edric shrugged in response. All he knew was that his room felt cold and empty without her. Also, he was really bad at entertaining himself.
They spent the day avoiding homework and agitating their father’s abominations. They did hear Odalia talking to Amity, as they walked past their little sister’s bedroom.
“Emira and Edric were performing so much better than you, at this age. You need to up your score, Amity. For the sake of this family. You are the future, after all.” That wasn’t right at all. Odalia had criticized their scores on the same quarter-year test she was scolding Amity about.
At fourteen, they could start to see the truth. Their mother was a master of manipulation. Even though they knew this, they were still caught in her web regardless. Beautiful little puppets for her to influence, whether it was through her direct abuse or her neglect.
Edric couldn’t sleep alone that night. It was too dark. He got out of bed and went into Emira’s room, sleeping on her floor. She woke up halfway through the night and laid beside him.
They couldn’t survive without each other.
Odalia gave up on them when they were fifteen. Amity was exceeding expectations as heir, even if she never told her such. They could do whatever they wanted, as long as they remained pretty little ornaments when she needed them for display. They watched Alador try to connect with Amity. They watched Amity become the top of her class. They watched their parent’s business grow.
They didn’t do much. They didn’t have any solid plans for their future. Don’t starve? Don’t get expelled? Do something with fireworks, maybe?
And then, when they were sixteen, Amity broke free. Some special people helped her realize she had been manipulated. That she was worthwhile. That she was wanted and loved.
They reconnected with her. Because what had happened when she was a child hadn’t been her fault. She’d been under the same influence they had, though in a different manner.
They got stood up at Grom. That was fine. They had each other.
Their mother became more ruthless. That was fine. They had each other.
Amity started to rebel against her, and they helped. It was fine. They had each other.
Each other. That was all they needed, when the world around them came crumbling down. When first Belos, then the Collector, took control of the Isles. Amity was gone. Dead, maybe. Edric went out looking for her, coming back extremely injured. Neither of them cared what happened to Odalia. Or Alador, really. He was nothing more than a stranger.
“Em. Em. Em. Em. Emmmmm. Are you awake?” Edric whispered to her as she tried to fall asleep against the cold cafeteria floor. They slept together in the corner, away from everyone else.
“You know I am,” she rolled over to face him, “what’s up?”
“Do you think she’s really… dead?”
“Ed, it’s late.”
“I know. But I was just thinking. What could have happened to her? Other than her just… not being around anymore,” he tried to curl in on himself, his cast preventing him from doing so.
“Maybe there are other safe places around the Isles, and she found one of those. She’s strong. Stronger than us. I think she’s alright. And she’ll find us.”
“Okay. I think that too, then,” he tried to move closer to her, Emira rolling her eyes and pushing her head against his, trying to fall back asleep. “I’m glad I’ve got you,” Edric whispered. She smiled,
“Always.”
The Boiling Isles were saved. Amity was alive. And now they were in this fun situation. Sitting across the table from their father. Amity was with her girlfriend right now. Which was good, Alador had said, he wanted to have a private chat with them.
Yeah, they knew what that entailed from Odalia. Edric reached out, Emira taking his hand. They were in their new house. It was much, much smaller than the Blight Manor had been. There were only three rooms, so Emira and Edric shared one. That was fine with them. Every attempt to sleep separately had led to a panic attack. Especially after everything they had been through recently.
“So… um,” Alador rubbed the back of his head, his face red, “how’re you two liking it here? I’ve already talked to Amity about her adjustment, but not you two. You guys, uh, change rooms whenever I walk into one, so that makes it a bit hard.”
“Uh huh,” Emira said, putting her feet up on the table and leaning back in her chair.
“Don’t do that,” Alador said, Emira closing her eyes. Here it came. The inevitable scolding. The insult to both of them. Sometimes a quick smack, if Odalia felt that was warranted. “You could fall.” Emira put her feet down. She and Edric remained quiet. “Uh, once again, how are you guys adjusting?”
“Fine,” Emira said. Edric focused on stealing fruit from the basket to their side, when he thought Alador wasn’t looking.
“What in Titan’s name are you doing?” Alador finally asked.
“Nothing,” Edric said, his hand midway to the fruit bowl. He pulled it back after a few seconds.
“The kitchen won’t be blocked off, anymore. You two can go in whenever you want.”
“...Okay,” Emira frowned. She hadn’t expected that. The twins continued staring at him, Edric finally speaking,
“You’re a really shitty dad, you know?”
“Edric!” Emira exclaimed, squeezing his hand, “he didn’t mean it, he -”
“- No, I totally did. You probably don’t even know our names. You never even tried. You’d just let her do things. You had to have known, didn’t you? You had to have watched her.” Alador hung his head. But he didn’t lash out. Emira spoke up,
“He’s… right. We don’t know who you are. It’s weird. You trying, all of the sudden.”
“Do you two even know who you are, without each other?” Alador suddenly asked. Slowly, they both shook their heads. Then they left, going into their room. He walked in a few hours later, Amity behind him,
“You’re right, guys. I know you are. I know I sucked. I’m going to try now, though. For all of you. I won’t get it perfect. But I will try. I promise.” He put a hand on both of their knees. They flinched back, moving slightly to the side to let Amity slip between them.
“Okay, Dad,” Emira finally said. That was that. That was all that needed to be said. Neither of them knew how they felt about Alador. Neither of them would know for a long time. But he was trying. And it was a step in the right direction.
Four months later, Edric and Emira stood in front of two separate doors, their hands clasped together. Their father had suggested therapy for all three of them. And they had finally agreed. They had separate therapists, though, even if their appointments were at the same time.
Emira took a deep breath, waving her arms around a few times. Edric grinned and did the same, “you ready?”
“Yeah. This’ll be… an experience.”
“If it’s really boring, knock on the wall three times and I’ll break us out.”
“Same,” Emira laughed. They looked down at their clasped hands as their names were both called, from separate rooms. Alador gave them a brief thumbs-up from behind them, where he was fighting with Darius, who was waiting for Hunter to come out of a different appointment.
“We, uh, we will come out at the same time, right?” Edric asked.
“Yeah,” Emira said, “you’ll wait for me if you come out first?”
“Of course. See you in an hour?”
“See you in an hour,” Emira smiled. They separated hands and went into their different rooms, trusting that the other would be safe in the room beside theirs.
Another step in the right direction. For all of them.
Things would be okay.