The Twins - NaNoWriMo '07

Chapter 4: Complications

“GET DOWN!” she yelled. Stefan obeyed, dropping to the ground none too gracefully and covering his sister with his body. He heard another two loud ‘twacks’ as two more dangerous arrows buried themselves in another tree.

“Xya al’y’Mithriël ÿla al’y’Laranté, amuli koi’alla Tî’rí ela kir’sha Tri’zaavi!” she muttered, as shiny magic flew from her hands and circled the clearing. Cries and grunts were heard, but the silver curtain had closed. Beyond it, Stefan could see deformed shapes trying to come through.

“Hurry Stefan, I don’t know how long this will hold!”

Stefan then noticed that she had opened the portal and was waiting for him. He picked up Ana again who murmured against his shoulder, and walked up to the edge, Elena grasped him and his sister tightly, and they stepped into the shining substance as the curtain disappeared. He heard a single cry before he was falling motionlessly again.


They stumbled and fell on the rug-covered stone floor in Elena’s room: Ana ended up under Stefan, and Elena halfway on and halfway off. Stefan stood and freed his sister. He picked her up and set her gently down on the bed. She was still very warm, so he took a cloth and wet it from the water in the carafe and wiped her face. Only then did he notice that Elena had not stood. He went over to her, and saw that the arrow sticking out from her left shoulder.

“Elena!” he cried, not knowing what to do, “Elena help me,” he whispered, “What do I do?” Pain painting her face, she pushed herself upright with her right hand. Stefan came around and put an arm around her waist, so she could sit upright on the floor.

“Aaah,” she groaned between her clenched teeth, “Damn those demons to Hell and back!”

“What do you want me to do?” Stefan asked, his eyes wide with concern, “Should I ring for someone?”

“No. I don’t want Cael rushing in here,” Elena replied. She took a deep breath, wincing as some blood trickled out of the wound and onto her coat.

“Bring the tray with the water carafe here. In the top right drawer of my desk, you will find a knife. Bring that too,” she said, as she closed her eyes briefly. Stefan scurried.

“You need to cut the coat away. It will be impossible to remove it otherwise. First cut the left sleeve away,” he did, pulling the sharp, silver blade knife with the gilded handle easily through the fur and fabric. He slipped the sleeve off of her arm. The blood stained her green dress a darker, crusty, and ugly blackish.

“Now, cut from the collar to the edge on the left,” he complied, and the front left of the coat fell away.

“Now is the tricky part,” Elena took a deep breath, “Cut from the edge of the collar down and around the arrow. Not too close, mind you!” Stefan eased the knife down slowly, trying to anticipate his patient’s shudders of pain. When he had passed the arrow shaft by at least twenty centimeters, he changed directions, bearing left. As he reached the end, the rest of the coat fell to the right, and Elena grunted as the bit of coat left around the arrow weighed down on it. Going around to her right side, Stefan helped to ease the coat off, and he left it pooled at the floor.

“Okay,” Elena said, “Try as best you can to remove the coat without moving the arrow.”

Stefan stared for a minute. “This isn’t a trick question, is it?”

“No. Moving or breaking the arrow could potentially ram the point in further, and I would rather not hit anything vital. But to do any healing at all, the piece of coat has to come off first. It’s too thick to do otherwise,” Elena explained quickly.

“Okay…” Stefan took a deep breath to try and stabilize his trembling fingers. He glanced at Ana on the bed, who was muttering slightly as she lay on her side. ‘For Ana,’ he thought, and began unsticking the coat from the fabric of Elena’s dress.

It was slow, painfully slow. The crusts stuck fast before jerkily coming apart, and Stefan did his best to not jar the arrow. Little by little, the fabric came loose, and the boy struggled not to let it stick again. At long last, it was only stuck to the arrow around the center.

“Now what? I can’t remove the coat without touching the arrow: there’s blood that’s sticking the two together,” he asked Elena.

“Okay,” she said, “Pull the fabric upwards slowly, and try to keep the arrow stable by holding it beneath the fabric.”

Stefan held the fabric by under with all five fingers, by circling them around and holding the arrow shaft in his fingers. With his left thumb and index fingers, he held the arrow firmly. Slowly, he pulled upwards in infinitely small jerks to loosen the dried and drying blood. With each small jerk, Elena grunted. When the fabric came loose, Stefan was surprised, and his left hand moved, causing Elena to cry out loud.

“Sorry!” Stefan cried, and, discarding the fabric, grabbed the cloth, dipped it in water, and applied it to the wound. It turned instantly red.

Elena was breathing heavily, and fighting to stay awake.

“Now keep doing what you’re doing. Wash the wound as best as possible with the arrow still in it,” she instructed thickly. Her vision was blurry.

Stefan washed the wound and watched the water in the carafe turn pink.

“I don’t think I can do much more with the arrow still in your shoulder. It has to come out soon, doesn’t it?” he asked.

“Yes. I’m going to tell you how,” Elena paused, gathering her thoughts, “Pull from the base. I don’t know how deep in it is, but it’s going to bleed a lot more when you take it out. If the arrow is triangular and pointed as I believe it is, then the end points will rip my skin when you take it out. Don’t be alarmed, and once you’ve started, finish taking it out. Whatever you do, do not stop halfway.”

Stefan swallowed with difficulty, and managed to croak, “Yes. Now?”

“Give me the spare cloth first,” she said. He did, and she twisted it, then placed it in her mouth, “No’.” she said around the cloth.

Stefan placed his left hand on her shoulder, to keep it down while he pulled the arrow. Wrapping his fingers around the shaft as close as possible to the point of entry, he began to pull. Elena moaned in the cloth as she ground her teeth in it. Steadily, Stefan pulled, trying not to see the blood that began to trickle, then surge out of the wound regularly. It was thick and dark red. Stefan then found resistance. Pulling a little harder, he saw the end points of the head poke their way through her skin, bringing a new surge of blood.

“Aaah!” came Elena’s muffled groan.

“Almost there,” Stefan said, trying to be soothing. He continued pulling, and it got easier, as the arrow was thinner at its point. At last, it was out. Fresh blood welled and spilled down her ruined gown. He put the arrow on the tray, and picked up the cloth. He soaked the end in water and scooped up the trails of blood. Refolding it, he dipped it in water again and began to clean the wound. Elena dropped the cloth from her mouth.

“You won’t be able to clean it entirely if you keep going like that. I bring my dress down,” Elena said matter-of-factly. Stefan blushed.

“Oh good Lady,” she said, turning slightly and seeing his reddish face, “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a woman topless before!” She grinned, though the pain made it look more like a grimace. Stefan mumbled incomprehensibly.

“You’re going to have to bring it down on my shoulder anyway, there’s no way I can move my arm without making the wound bleed even more,” she continued, “You should probably cut my sleeve away. The dress isn’t salvageable anyway, so it might as well be useful. Although velvet is certainly not a first-choice bandage.”

Stefan took the knife up again and began to cut the fabric. It yielded easily, unlike the coat. He swiftly cut the shoulder away, and cut around the wound as he did previously. With infinitesimal care, he once again separated the fabric from the skin, wincing slightly each time it pulled. He could hear Elena’s teeth grinding against each other.

“There we go!” he exclaimed as the fabric came free. He put it next to the arrow. Now completely uncovered, the wound looked worse than ever. Blood pumped steadily from it, and the skin was red from both blood and inflammation. It was swollen and obviously tender to the touch, as Elena shuddered when Stefan put water on it again. He washed away the dried blood, trying not to apply too much pressure. Though the blood still welled, its flow had lessened. Keeping the sodden cloth on the wound, Stefan asked, “Where can I find bandages?”

“Bottom left drawer of my desk,” Elena said shortly.

“Can you hold the cloth against the wound while I get some?” He asked.

“Sure,” she reached around with her right hand to hold the piece of cloth firmly. Stefan stood and went to the desk. He pulled open the correct drawer, and found a multitude of stacked linen bandages, herbs, pouches for poultices, string and needles, and lengths of wrapping gauze. Taking a few bandages out and a length of gauze, he closed the drawer again and walked back to where Elena was sitting. He washed the wound again before pressing the bandage to it.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to take the rest of your dress down, so I can wrap the gauze around you,” he said, trying not to blush.

“Alright,” she replied, and with Stefan’s help, she brought the other arm of her dress down and off. Her corset hugged her torso; defining her figure. With shaky fingers, Stefan wrapped the gauze around three times before tying a small and secure knot in the front.

“There,” he said, “I’m sorry I’m not so good with herbs and whatnot, but I thought it’d be best if I just washed it and covered it.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get Shanah to help me later to prepare a poultice and redo the bandage,” Elena stood and shed the rest of her dress. She stood in her petticoat and corset. Easily, she walked over and pulled a robe over herself.

“Now let’s have a look at your sister,” she said, and walked over to the bed. Ana was shivering slightly, and her brow shined with sweat. Muttering, Elena cleaned the bloody water and restored it to its crystal clear state. She said the same spell to clean the cloth, and then liberally soaked the cloth in the water. She wrung it over Ana’s face, letting the cool water splash. In slow-motion, Ana brought her hands up to her face, and wiped the water away. Her eyes half-opened and she moaned slightly.

“Aw my head…” she said, “What happened? Where am I?” She tried to sit up, but her arms felt like lead with marshmallow consistency.

“Shh, don’t move,” Stefan said, climbing on the bed beside her, “Your body’s reacting the magic as though it were an infection.”

“Oh,” she said softly.

“Don’t worry,” Elena said, “Drink this.” She gave the cup to Stefan to hold to Ana’s mouth. A strong dark liquid was in it; it smelt faintly of coffee but also of cocoa and cinnamon. He held the cup to his sisters’ lips, and she allowed a little to trickle into her mouth. She made a face.

“Ugh, what is that?”

“A reviving drink that will help your body accept your magic. We do not have much time if I am to instruct you before the Moon obstructs the sun,” answered Elena; Ana nodded slightly, and continued to drink.


Just as Ana was finishing the drink, a bold knock came from the door.

“Elena? Are you there? Can I come in?” said Cael’s muffled voice. The three occupants of the room looked at each other in fear, and, in the twins’ case, horror.

“Don’t move, I’m going to cast a glamour over you,” whispered Elena. She waved her hands and mouthed the spell. Ana and Stefan felt peculiar; as though someone had poured hot wax on them. When they looked at each other, they had to stifle a gasp: they were invisible to one another! Elena motioned to them that they should go in the closet again, because otherwise, Cael was sure to notice the depressions in the bed.

“Elena?” Cael questioned, knocking again, “May I come in?”

“In a moment Cael,” Elena said.

Stefan slid off the bed, and went around, feeling for his sister. Finding her elbow, he helped ease her off the bed, and they walked towards the closet. Elena magicked the door open, and they walked right in. Stefan settled his sister on a pile of extra cloth, and went to close the door. As Elena saw the door close, she tightened her robe around herself, and went to open the main door to her room. Cael had his hand poised to knock again as she pulled it open.

“Sorry to have kept you, I was a little busy,” she said a little breathlessly.

“Oh, I’m sorry to interrupt! I was just worried, since lunch was an hour ago and you never came by. I assumed you were working, and was just coming by to see if you wanted to take a break and take a breath of fresh air.”

“Oh, well… that’s very kind of you, but I’m feeling quite tired. I just had a trip to the Otherworld, and it’s just drained my energy. I think I’m just going to lay down for a minute.” She replied, trying to be as polite as possible.

Cael’s dark eyes further darkened until it was difficult to tell if they were even still blue. He glided into the room smoothly, shutting the door with a wave of his hand. Elena turned to face him, suddenly afraid. She forced herself to guard her thoughts most carefully while she wracked her mind to find something that would lead him out of her rooms.

“My dear,” Cael said silkily, “Have you yet no news of the twins?”

“No,” she swallowed, “But they were not in the Otherworld. Charon assured me that no human twins from the Land of the Godless had been seen on any of the Rivers banks within the day.”

“Then they MUST be here!” He shouted, bringing his fist down on the table by the door. It cracked. Orange-black sparks flew from his fingers.

“Cael, calm down,” Elena tried to no avail, “They are around, and they will undoubtedly show up. The Mistress will give them to us, have no fear.” This only served to throw him further into fury.

“The Mistress! The Mistress has better give them back quickly, lest I decide to root her out and cast her to Hell! Who knows how long she may keep them? A month, a year, ten years? What is time to her?” He yelled, spit flying from his mouth. Elena wiped a little bit that had landed on her cheek.

“Cael!” She admonished, “She will hear you, I beg you repent your words!”

It was too late. The stone crumbled beneath the man, and he began to slip backwards.

“What kind of witchcraft is this? Elena! Help me!” he shouted. Elena was torn: here was her enemy, disappearing into the Mistress’s clutches, yet if she did not make a move, he would know for sure on what side she lay.

“Oh Mistress, I implore you, he did not mean his words! They were spoken out of anger and frustration at our missing charges! Please Mistress, let him be!” She fell to her knees, her forehead touching the stone ground as she spoke to the castle. Almost instantly, the stone began to knit itself once more around Cael. Feeling it, he scrambled out before the ground trapped him. His robes were torn; his hair disheveled. His eyes still held a glimmer of madness, but it was dimmed by the recognition of his narrow escape.

“Thank you, Elena, thank you!” he said, pulling himself up. He walked over to her and hugged her. Elena stiffened with pain, and he felt her.

“What is wrong?” he asked, putting his hand on her shoulder.

Unable to retain herself, she winced and cried out softly.

“Elena! Are you hurt?” he exclaimed, and tugged at the robe. She couldn’t keep the robe around her, and he glimpsed the bandage.

“Elena! When did this happen? When you were in the Otherworld? Ah, curse those twins for disappearing! It is their fault that you are hurt!” Elena shook her head feebly, but Cael ignored her, “Curse them! Had they not disappeared, you would not have been hurt in the Otherworld! What? Why are you shaking your head? Are you telling me it’s not their fault? Of course it is!” He softened his tone marginally, “Have you made a poultice for it yet?” She nodded; that white lie would be useful. There was no way he could stably make a poultice in his state. He began to pace in the room, while Elena sat down in a chair, angling herself so her shoulder didn’t touch the back of the chair. She watched him go back and forth, his shredded robes feebly billowing behind him.

With a slight widening of her eyes, she realized that the arrow that had wounded her was in full view of Cael. There was no way she could conceal it from this distance; just casting the glamour on the twins had sapped her energy.

Cael, meanwhile, followed her look, and saw the arrow. He recognized it, and knew that she had not been in the Otherworld as she said. She had gone back to the Land of the Godless, and most probably with the twins.

“YOU LYING WORTHLESS CAST-OFF DAUGHTER OF SELENE!!!” He bellowed. Stefan shuddered even through the door. Elena looked up, fear in her eyes. Cael was standing over her, tall and overbearing.

“YOU WEREN’T IN THE OTHERWORLD WERE YOU?” he continued. Elena was too petrified to answer. He grasped her left arm and she screamed in pain, “ANSWER ME!” She shook in his hands.

Behind the door, Stefan heard Elena’ scream and almost flew out of the closet to her rescue. Things were obviously turning bad. He wished he knew some magic so he could help her! ‘Gods! Though I suppose Cael would beat me in a nanosecond,’ he thought ironically. Still, his blood, or perhaps the magic, boiled in his veins at the injustice happening on the other side of the door, and his incapacity at doing anything.

A bauble of light appeared in the closet. Stefan willed it to grow in intensity, and he immediately could see his surroundings as though in full day. He looked around desperately, looking for a weapon, something he could use to defend himself and Elena. There! A gilded handle stuck out from beneath the skirts of a multitude of dresses. Stefan pulled it out carefully, and found himself in possession of a magnificent sword. Gripping it, he found that it fitted comfortably in his hand.

A resounding slap sounded on the other side. Willing the light away (and it winked out of existence) Stefan risked cracking the door, praying that Cael would either be back to it, or too focused on Elena to notice anything else. When the crack was large enough for him to stick his head through he did. There, he saw that Elena sat facing him, and Cael stood over her, his back to him. His hands were gripping her shoulders and he was shaking her, as though to shake sense into her. Fury boiled in Stefan’s veins even more so. He glanced back at Ana, and saw that she was slowly recuperating her facilities. Then, keeping the sword behind him – and hoping it wouldn’t show through his body – he slipped out, hugging the wall. There was no way either of the two mages could see him. Stefan cautiously crouched beside the bed, and observed.

“Tell me where they are!!” Cael was still yelling. Elena seemed transfixed by something, and she refused to say a word. Stefan could now see Cael’s aura: it swirled darkly around him, a dark blue color like his eyes. At the moment however, it pulsed with anger and darkness. Shots of lightning cackled in it occasionally. Stefan shuddered, then shifted to a better position. Unfortunately, the point of the sword hit the night-table by the bed, and the vase of flowers rocked dangerously before falling and crashing into a thousand pieces on the stone floor. Stefan remained motionless, frightened, and feeling horribly exposed.

Cael turned at the sound of breaking china. The table was motionless, but beside it was the broken vase, with water seeping the stone. Elena stared in horror as she realized that Stefan must have slipped out of the closet. She prayed that Cael would not notice him. The mage would not be so easily satisfied. He let go of Elena, who gasped in relief, and made his way to where the broken vase lay.

Stefan looked up carefully. Cael was standing five centimeters away from him, and looked immense from his perspective on the floor. He gripped the sword tightly, though his palms were uncooperative and insisted on being sweaty.

“Who’s there?” Cael asked dangerously, in absolute still silence. If dropped, a pin would be heard, even on the carpet.

“I know you’re there,” he said silkily, quickly waving his hand a centimeter over Stefan’s head, “Ah… do not think you can hide from me forever young twin. I will catch you and your sister,” he then lowered his voice to a whisper, “And it will not be pretty if I have my way!” His sentence finished, Cael lunched to grasp Stefan’s hair, as though he could see him. The boy felt the mage’s hand close on his long hair, and he reacted intuitively: pulling the sword up in front of him, with the hilt at his chest, he pushed, with all his might, the blade to Cael’s stomach, standing at the same time.

The sword transpierced him through and through: the mage cried out and gurgled, before falling backwards, pulling Stefan with him. As he rolled off and stood himself, an iron grip circled his ankle and brought him crashing to the ground. Cael was still alive! The two males fought for the gilded handle of the sword; where one wanted to kill his enemy, the other wanted to finish what he had started. The sword twisted amid their grasps as though with a life of its own. It shifted in the gaping hole it sliced, further physically damaging the mage. His body twitched several times, convulsing around the sword, before he gurgled blood and his head lolled to the side, eyes and mouth open, blood dripping onto the carpet.


Stefan stood, breathing hard and trembling. He stared at the corpse, at the man he had killed.

It was Ana in the doorframe of the closet that brought all of their attentions back to the present. Elena had removed the glamour when Stefan had attacked. She walked over to the girl, and gently led her to the bed. Her fever was gone; her eyes sparkled golden with vitality.

“Ana…” Stefan walked over and stood by his sister, shaking his head slightly, his eyes vacant.

“Shh,” she said, and rose to hug him tightly. He cried on her shoulder, his shock eliciting this response from his body. They rocked together, locked in an embrace. Ana stroked his back, making soothing noises in his ear. He stopped sobbing, and looked at her. They were no longer mirror images: their eyes were different colors.

“I… I guess we’ll have to tell people we’re wearing contacts now,” Ana said with a half smile, in an attempt to ease the tension. Stefan chuckled once or twice. Elena joined them.

“The moon is moving forward, and I fear we have less time than I believed,” she said, “But Stefan… wherever did you get that sword?”

“I suppose the Mistress supplied me with it, unless you make a habit of keeping swords on the floor of your closet,” he said, jesting a little. Ana smiled, though inside she was worried: her brother was concealing his grief so quickly.

“No, that’s not really a habit of mine,” Elena said, smiling, “I am glad the Mistress is so active… She is confirming my beliefs that the two of you are important in the Weave of life.”

Ana and Stefan smiled a little uncertainly.

“What of our powers? Must we not develop them somewhat?” Ana asked, “I mean, how else are we supposed to complete the prophecy?”

“Yes. Unfortunately, we do not have the time to do properly instruct you,” Elena said, “So, we’re going to cheat.”

“You can cheat in magic?” Stefan asked incredulously.

“Of course, it’s a matter of knowing how,” she replied, winking, “But before we do anything, I’m afraid I need to send you back into the closet. I’m going to call for Shanah and she will help me dress my wound. When she has left, I’ll come for you. Try not to get into any trouble, okay?” A twinkle lurked in her eye, “Alright now, off you go!” she shooed them into the closet, and closed the door behind them. She cast a glamour over the body to hide it entirely from the all the senses but that of touch. Elena took her robe off and draped it on the bed. She pulled the concealed bell pull and a discreet chime rang in her room. As well as she could, Elena took out the herbs necessary for the poultice. As she brought out a new bandage to cover it all, someone discreetly knocked at the door. The woman went to open it, and found Shanah standing humbly.

“Come in girl, I need your help,” she said softly. Shanah glided in silently, and closed the door behind her.

“Yes Miss? What can I do for you?”

“In a moment, I will need you to wash my wound and apply this poultice, and then re-bandage my shoulder.”

“Do you want me to take the bandage off now?”

“No, not quite… I don’t want to risk infection. Have a seat, have a biscuit from the mantelpiece. I’ll just be a moment.”

Shanah looked about her a little uncomfortably. Miss Elena was the first and only one to treat her kindly, to treat her as a human being. The servant girl sat on the edge of the loveseat after helping herself to a biscuit from the bowl on the mantelpiece. She ate daintily and quickly, anxious to both fulfill her mistress’s wishes and be ready when she called.

“If you please, Shanah,” Elena called, “There is a jug of clean water with a cloth on the desk next to me. The poultice is beside it, along with the bandage and gauze. Can you help me unwind this bandage?”

“Certainly,” the girl answered, and proceeded to untie Stefan’s knot. Succeeding, she carefully unwrapped the gauze from Elena’s upper torso. The padded bandage stuck to her back of its own accord, by the blood that had begun to dry there. Shanah carefully peeled it back, unfazed by the red and inflamed skin, and the red jagged hole where the arrow had pierced.

“Miss Elena is lucky nothing vital was touched,” she remarked.

“Yes Shanah, I was very lucky. Can you please wash it?”

“Of course,” Shanah wet the cloth generously and washed away the newly crusted blood. She then took the warmish poultice that Elena was holding over her shoulder, and pressed it against the wound, wetting it a little with some more water, to ensure that the healing properties of the herbs would soak through to the wound. Holding the poultice with one hand, she then took the padded bandage and placed it over the herbs. Shifting her hold to her left hand, she grasped the length of gauze with her right hand, and, leaving thirty centimeters or so dangling from the end, she pressed it against the bandage, and proceeded to wrap it around Elena’s upper torso snugly. Reaching the end of the length, she let go of the bandage and pulled it a little tighter. Elena gasped.

“It is not too tight Miss?” said Shanah anxiously.

“No, no, it is fine.” Shanah tied the two ends securely, and tucked the left over parts into the wrapping.

Elena took a breath, but not too deep. The wound stung, but it was already being soothed by the poultice.

“Can you help me dress?”

“Yes Miss, would you like me to select a gown for you?” Shanah asked, moving towards the closet.

“No!” Elena said forcefully, and Shanah stopped and looked down at her feet, “I mean, no, thank you. I will get it myself.” She smiled at the girl who refused to meet her eye.

Elena walked over to the closet and opened it a crack. She slipped inside, magically lighting the place, and selected her cheapest gown of soft wool. She stepped out again, and quickly shut the door.

“This will do just fine. I’m afraid I’m going away for a little bit, and it would be best for me to be inconspicuous,” she explained to Shanah.

“Yes Miss.” She set to work at unbuttoning the dress. Elena then stepped into it, and Shanah helped her put her arms through the sleeves and then closed it up in the back again.

“Would you like me to arrange your hair?” Shanah asked.

“Yes, could you comb it and then braid it in a single plait down the back please?”

“Of course,” Elena sat at her desk while Shanah stood behind her and combed out the blonde wavy hair. A few minutes later, Shanah was working her fingers in the hair, braiding it tightly. Finally, her hair was just one long rope that halted half-way down her back.

“Thank you Shanah,” the servant bowed, “Could you please not mention to anyone that I am going away? I will let them know in my own way.”

“Certainly,” Shanah smiled knowingly. Her mistress’s missions always occurred like this.