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The shuttle door slid open, but Thexan couldn’t hear the characteristic pneumatic hiss. The blustering wind outside that threatened the shuttle’s flight path during their descent now forced its way in, filling the cabin with chilly air. Thexan hugged his woolen cloak tightly around him to ward off the cold and to stop the cloth from fluttering about while his other hand gripped the roof handle so tightly that the skin was stretched white around the knuckles.
Down below, Vaylin’s prison grew larger and larger as the shuttle continued its descent. The compound itself looked like a hideous cancer, a dark grey amongst the beautiful yellows of the late afternoon sun reflecting off of the clouds. The entire complex was made of greasy-looking durasteel right down to the skinny walkway and the small landing dock. Instead of the burnished metal he’d taken for granted seeing on the skyscrapers back home, there weren’t any maintenance droids here to polish the durasteel exterior to perfection. If Vaylin’s prison looked this dilapidated on the outside, Thexan didn’t even want to imagine the filthy conditions his sister endured inside every day.
It’d been months since their father had sent her here, and despite his many visits, Thexan had never seen the insides of Vaylin’s meditation chamber. The farthest inside the compound he’d seen was the long passageway leading into the bowels of the prison which was eerily lit up by blinking red lights, its walls decorated by snaking wires that he imagined snaring him in place should he decide to enter without his father’s permission.
Thexan hugged his dark cloak tighter. The late afternoon sun offered some warmth, but the gusty winds made the temperature drop slightly below what he considered as comfortable. But was he clutching his cloak around him because it was cold, or was he clutching it around him because of his underlying worry for his sister? He wasn’t sure. He’d visited his sister regularly, well, as regular as he could manage with his hectic lifestyle as a prince. Vaylin’s new caretakers were extensions of their father, and surely their father knew that he was visiting her.
But their father had never given his verbal approval that Thexan could visit Vaylin.
He took a deep breath. Father never said that you weren’t allowed to visit her, he tried reassuring himself. Even Arcann had visited her, but his twin’s visitations amounted to once every few weeks while Thexan visited once every few days.
Their father had to have known that he was visiting Vaylin despite the absence of verbal consent, but for whatever reason, had never said anything. Thexan understood that their father tirelessly toiled to set the three of them apart, either physically by putting great distances between them like with Vaylin or by turning them against one another through misplaced trust and broken promises.
Divide and conquer. Thexan knew that the way for their father to maintain his rule was that he and his siblings couldn’t, and wouldn’t work together as a whole to overpower him.
Or, maybe their father thought that his level-headed eldest son was competent enough to calm the raging hurricane that was Arcann and the capricious cruelty that was Vaylin just enough so that all three children would remain loyal to the Eternal Emperor. And more easily controlled and used, a sinister voice whispered at the back of his head.
Maybe he and Arcann were allowed to visit their sister because Vaylin had displayed good behaviour. Maybe their father wordlessly allowed the visits as they were Vaylin’s only lifeline for holding onto whatever shreds of sanity and humanity she had as she braved her imprisonment.
There were myriad possibilities as to why their father hadn’t acted on these unsanctioned visits, but Thexan hoped that their father didn’t see his children’s efforts at maintaining contact with one another as defiance against his authority, and that his sister didn’t suffer more cruelty because of it. He’d gently asked Vaylin at the very end of their visits whether or not their father punished her more because he visited, but she’d always shaken her head. And despite Thexan’s knack for analyzing people to discern truth from lies, he’d never been sure whether her wordless answer was genuine or a wonderful fib to soothe his worries.
The shuttle lowered onto the docking platform, and Thexan felt the gentle settling of the ship as the pilot killed the engine. “Stay and wait for my command,” Thexan instructed. He then turned to the other four Knights in the shuttle with him. “You four, with me.”
“Of course, Your Majesty,” the Knights said, their voices combining in a garbled mess.
The pilot gently guided the shuttle to the middle of the landing pad, and Thexan and his four Knights stepped out. In front of him, the blast doors slid open and his father’s guards, clad in black, stalked out of the gloom. Two lines of five walked towards him, one line on the left and one line on the right of the walkway, followed by two lines of the mysterious men and women clad in white and gold whose faces were covered with a long cowl.
And between the contrasting lines of black and white was his sister. Thexan took a deep breath and held it. His sister’s hair seemed to have grown back a little more, and now she sported a thick chestnut fuzz on her scalp. If Vaylin didn’t receive any more haircuts, all of her silky hair would soon grow back to what it was before. He missed the blond braid his sister wore in the past; he missed how the sunlight complemented and enhanced the natural gold in her hair, and he missed gently tugging on her braid as a sign of affection. The first time he’d visited after all of her hair had been shorn off, he’d thought for a split second that he was staring into a past version of himself.
She seemed gaunter than a few days ago, and it showed on the sunken hollows of her cheeks and the pastiness of her complexion. She’d almost lost all of the roundness of her cheeks, and in the late afternoon light, the shadows around her jawline and cheekbones seemed to accent her increasing scrawniness. Thexan felt a painful pang in his chest as he remembered how he’d affectionately poked his sister’s chubby cheeks when she was younger. He wasn’t sure if his beloved sister was emaciated because they’d purposely been starving her, or they’ve trained her so hard that her body started showing signs of strain.
The front row of guards stopped and the other guards followed suit, allowing Vaylin to walk slowly to him. It was a walk, but Thexan noticed the subtle spring in his sister’s steps as she fought hard against the urge to run up to him. He commanded his own Knights to stop and wait on the walkway while he continued walking on alone.
When Vaylin was within his reach, she jumped into his arms and buried her grimy face into his shoulder. Had it been someone else, he’d be disgusted by the action, but this was his beloved sister. His arms circled around her back, pulling her close to him for a bone-crushing hug.
“I missed you, big brother,” Vaylin squeaked softly into his shoulder.
“I’ve missed you too.” You just don’t know how much. Thexan felt a lump form in his throat. Their father had separated Vaylin from him and Arcann, and their mother had mysteriously disappeared. Their family was falling apart, with their father gleefully picking away the pieces one by one. He grit his teeth to quell the emotions that threatened to bubble out of him and affectionately ran his hand over his sister’s prickly scalp until he regained his composure.
If it was possible, Vaylin squeezed him tighter. “When will Arcann come visit?”
Thexan did his best to hide his disappointment. He suspected that Arcann had visited sparingly because he feared repercussions from their father. Not that he could blame his twin; whenever he and Arcann were punished for not meeting their father’s expectations, either through their schooling or from their training, Arcann always received a harsher punishment. “I – I don’t know,” he sadly told her. Vaylin looked at her feet, downcast.
“I brought a few things for you,” he murmured, trying to restore the good mood they both shared just seconds before. He carefully retrieved a cloth bundle from underneath his cloak. He’d been clutching his cloak close to his chest earlier not just due to the temperature, but because he carried a few precious things for his sister.
Vaylin’s eyes lit up. “What is it?” she asked quietly, although every ounce of eagerness and surprise was still there.
He silently thanked the Old Gods that she still had the spark in her eyes whenever she was giddy with joy regardless of all the horrors she’d withstood at the hands of their father and their father’s henchmen. The gesture itself was a beacon of hope that the old Vaylin was still in there, and if the Old Gods were kind and good, she’d always be there, unbendable and unbreakable in the face of whatever despicable things she’ll endure.
“I brought a set of clean robes for you. They’ll keep you warm when it gets colder,” He smiled sadly at her. He believed everyone had the right to be properly clothed and access to proper clothing wasn’t just a privilege for a select few, and it pained him that Vaylin was so excited just to see something that every person should have.
His sister was filthy, and the once-immaculate set of robes she proudly wore had now turned grey from grime and reduced to tatters in places. Even Zakuul’s worst prisoners were more properly clothed than his sister, the princess of the Eternal Empire. He felt the anger rise up to a steady boil inside of him, warming his fingertips, and he no longer felt the cold chill from the blowy winds.
“Thank you, big brother,” Vaylin whispered with sincerity, dispelling Thexan’s rising fury. She hugged the bundle tightly against her chest, and that bright spark of excitement reappeared in her eyes. “What’s this?” she asked curiously, poking at a hard lump at the centre of the bundle.
Thexan pulled his sister close. To the figures in black and white and to the golden Knights around them, it could’ve been just another embrace. He reached out for the set of robes and Vaylin gently placed the bundle back into Thexan’s arms. He carefully unfolded the robes, revealing a small, wooden figurine wrapped with twine.
It was the wood carving that their mother had made for her from a piece of wood found in the royal gardens when she’d been little. Other than the head and four legs, there weren't any other distinguishable features carved into the wood. He wasn't sure if it was supposed to be a nerf or some species of bear, but he was willing to bet that it was supposed to be the latter.
Vaylin froze and Thexan held his breath, afraid that his sister’s volatile temper would surface. The wooden toy was a bittersweet reminder of their mother, a warm, kind-hearted and loving woman whose gentleness tempered the ruthlessness of their father, but that their father’s cruelty had won out for their mother had left them in the end.
Thexan watched his sister, her expression blank as she uneasily weighed her options of whether or not to keep her toy. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked her softly. “If not, I’ll take it back.”
“I – I want to, but I don’t know if they’ll let me keep it,” Vaylin murmured, reaching out for the toy.
Thexan carefully placed the carving in the centre of the robes and neatly refolded it before handing the bundle back to his sister with a grin. “If they don’t know you have it, then they can’t take it away.”
Vaylin beamed and hugged Thexan tightly, squishing the bundle of fabric between them. “Thank you, big brother,” she whispered.
“Don’t hug me too hard,” Thexan wheezed out, his sister’s embrace squeezing the air from his lungs. “You'll flatten the other thing I brought you.”
“You brought me another gift?” Vaylin wondered, a wide grin spreading across her face.
Thexan reached into his cloak and pulled out a sealed bag covered with red and pink splotches on the inside. Oh, it definitely got flattened. “I got you a jam-filled pastry.”
With all of the tight embraces, the normally round and puffy pastry had been squished into an unappetizing disk, its fruity contents squeezed out and mixed with the powdered sugar to decorate the insides of the bag with a spectrum of reds and pinks. But that didn’t matter to Vaylin. His sister’s face lit up with so much happiness that Thexan feared her eyebrows might disappear into her hairline. “You’ll have to eat it here, right now, before they see you,” he reminded her.
There was a strange delight in watching his thin sister ravenously devour the pastry, and he hoped that the sweet treat would keep his sister sweet throughout and after her banishment. Their shared joy didn’t last long; soon after Vaylin finished her treat, the men and women behind her marched up to them.
Vaylin sensed it too, and Thexan pulled her into another tight embrace to stall time so that for just a moment, they could both imagine that they were back on Zakuul and haven’t been forcefully separated by their father.
Mother always said to be the last person to let go from a hug, he recalled the memory as he tightened the embrace to the point where neither he nor Vaylin could breathe.
The precious moment was too short, and when one of the faceless men forcefully grabbed Vaylin by the shoulders, she let go of Thexan instantly as if the embrace had scalded her. As she marched back towards her prison with the line of men and women behind her, Thexan caught her looking back at him, a morose expression on her face. He could’ve sworn he saw tears welling up at the corners of her eyes, but knowing his sister, she’ll never let them fall. Not in front of her father’s henchmen.
A forceful push from the cloaked man behind her rudely reminded her that the visitation period was over, and she turned away and disappeared down the long corridor, head held high.
Thexan didn’t turn away until the durasteel door slid shut. He blinked away the tears in his eyes and wiped his wet cheeks with edges of his hood. Like his sister, he wouldn't let their father's patrolmen see him cry either.
When he established some manageable level of calm, he marched back towards his shuttle, issuing orders to the Knights to prepare for the journey home. He promised himself that he’ll convince Arcann to come with him the next time he visited Vaylin. He also promised himself that the next time he visited, he’ll bring not one, but two jam-filled pastries for his beloved sister.