May All The Demons of Hell Protect You

Perfect. Perfect. Be perfect. The idea had been long hammered into the female's skull. Be graceful. Not a hint of clumsy or unrefined. Be delicate. Not one muscle too toned to be had on her entire body, no lessons in self-defense. Serve your superiors. Not a disobedient bone in her body. A puppet. A marionette. Bend her backwards- it'll be fine. Flex her limbs in ways they should not naturally go- she will not resist. Mere whimpers of pain will escape her, but none enough to irritate- she knew better than to annoy.

Her salvation in a world that had been so wholly cruel to her- her darling brother. He could do no wrong in her eyes. He could commit crimes worthy of spewing bile, and she would hardly bat an eye. It was a glorious sight; to see him so fit for life. Quite unlike her. No. She could only stare in awe at his talent for living. This was why she had been so attached to him since the moment they met. He was the ripple in the pool of suffering that had made up the entirety of her life.

A year had passed since the events that had left her catatonic. She could not remember what had happened after…. After that, She only knew her brother had taken her away from her pain. He had told her she would not be harmed again. Harmed? What did that mean? Wasn’t it what she was meant for? To be arranged however others wanted her to be? To be a perfect girl- woman now?

Cierzo had been waiting for him. Her delicate rosy form a stark contrast against the filth of the lands around her. He came back to her as he always had, lifting her up against the warm, hard structure that was his back. She felt at ease when he touched her, a sense of splendor washing over her as he brought her gently to a place all her own- a bison skin meticulously placed for her to sit away from the muck surrounding them. She worried for him though, beckoning him closer to sit with her.

“Es..” She called her nickname for him shyly, her toes kneading the soft pelt below with anxiety. “You don’t need to do all this for me.” Her voice was a wisp of a thing, so soft it might not have been audible to others. But her brother would hear the true meaning in her faint mew. She wasn’t worthy of his level of care.

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