It’s an absolutely wonderful day. It must be the warmest of the year. The sun is actually shining, like the clouds have parted just to taunt me. At least I have a few hours left before they drag me downstairs at nightfall. Knowing that I won't be the one to die makes this even harder than before. How can I live knowing I’ve murdered my own sister? I suppose I could drown myself in memory-muddying potions for the rest of my miserable life. Or just wine, that’s probably cheaper. Leo told me the Hunt had already chosen. That whatever happened tonight was fate, fixed long before we were born. I don’t know why I believed her. Maybe because I needed something to hold onto, even if it was a lie.

  I’m not going to waste the first beautiful day of the year lying and wallowing in my bed. I hoped Leo could find it in herself to enjoy it too, even though she knew it was going to be her last. At least it’s pretty and warm. Uncanny for Vesgrad.

  Pulling myself from my blankets, I took my morning robe from where it was draped over the back of my desk chair and tied it around my waist. The fabric was smooth over my shoulders, keeping me sheltered from the house’s prying eyes. I could feel it watching me, as if trying to make sure I wouldn’t try to run. As if I could. The cut on my leg was still fresh from last night, sending jolts of pain with every step I took. Running in those tunnels was going to be hell, not only mentally. I toppled over to the large glass doors on the far side of my room and swung them open, letting in a fresh sea wind carrying the smells of the city. Stepping out into the sun was like stepping into a drunken stupor. The warm rays were like feathers on my skin, warm and ticklish. I felt free in a way I hadn’t in years. It’s strange how freedom betrays you, letting you get a taste only to remind you still have worldly obligations. If only I could stay on my balcony, in the sun, forever. Pretending nothing is wrong.

  Sadly, that isn’t reality. The sun wouldn’t stick around to let me have that joy.

  The balcony stone was still cold from winter. I stood there barefoot, letting the chill remind me that I am still here, that I still have a body. The sunlight spilled out across the garden like an apology, too bright, too late. The wind carried the sound of the city, faint laughter, carriage wheels, and a street musician’s half-hearted melody. All those little lives moving on, untouched by the things buried beneath this house. It felt wrong that the world could still be so alive. I watched the light scatter on the rooftops, turning the chimneys gold. There were gulls, too, lazy, white silhouettes drifting above the water. I tried to follow them until they disappeared into the glare, wondering if they ever noticed the cage they flew over. The air smelled of salt and blooming things. If I closed my eyes, I could almost pretend the scent wasn’t mixed with the rot of damp stone. Almost. Behind me, the house creaked just enough to remind me it was there, watching. Its breath moved through the cracks in the floorboards, a steady pulse that didn’t belong to the wind. I looked down at the garden again. The frost was melting into the soil, and a few stubborn wildflowers had already started to claw their way through. I wondered if Leo had seen them yet; she always noticed things like that. Maybe she’d be out there later, sneaking away to steal a few moments of normalcy before night fell. She was better at pretending it didn’t get to her. Better at pretending we were still human. I envied her for that.

  I tried to imagine her standing there, just for a second alive, laughing, pretending we weren’t what we are. There’s something cruel about remembering her like she used to be, on a day like this. The warmth makes it harder to breathe, the air too full of everything she gave up. The happy, innocent girl she used to be. I used to think I’d feel her absence most at night, in the silence. I was wrong. It’s the light that hurts the most. It burns where she should be. Reminding myself of last night, I told myself again that it wasn’t my fault. That she’d said it herself. It wasn't my fault. But the words felt brittle even in my head, like they’d crumble if I said them out loud. I can still see the look on her face when she said it. I can’t decide what was worse: that she forgave me, or that she meant it. The sun was higher now, spilling through the iron rails and leaving thin, glowing lines across my arms. For a moment, I held them up, imagining they were bindings. Maybe that’s all this house ever gave us: a way to dress up our cages as devotion.

  If I stood here long enough, I could almost convince myself this was another life entirely. One where the sun doesn’t feel like a visitor, where the ground isn’t soaked in secrets. The warmth on my skin made me ache. It was too gentle, too forgiving. I didn’t deserve it. I wanted to stay anyway. Just for a little while longer. I knew that if I didn’t force myself back inside, I would stand here for hours. Watching the last of the snow melt, watching for Leo to appear, and smelling the crocus. One last chance to see her alive before tonight.

  I don’t know how long I stood there, letting my eyes drift between the garden and the birds in the sky. Leo never showed, probably keeping tucked away in her room and watching the flowers from a distance. I held onto the freedom of the birds, keeping myself from completely losing my mind. Even if I couldn’t be free, at least someone else was.

  When I stood in front of my wardrobe, tossing clothes around in an attempt to find something suitable for tonight, I noticed one of my shirts was missing. Since I only have three sets of clothes in regular rotation, I notice quite quickly when something goes missing. The perfect order in my closet had been disturbed. Thankfully, the shirt I had lost track of wasn’t one I wore very often. I wasn’t going to miss it. I settled on a muted ensemble of browns and grays. Something easy to run in: Dark, fitted pants and a dress shirt. Simple enough. I laced up my boots as I remembered Leo’s words. Pack a bag.

  I kept digging through my closet, picking out pieces I could throw in my satchel and carry with me. If that was even what she meant. I don’t know why I would need to leave if she intends to let me live. Among the mess of fabric, I noticed a dark red vest I’d never worn. I didn’t remember buying it, yet it looked brand new. Pulling it out of the hang, I saw the small paper tag dangling from the high neckline. I recognized the script as my mother’s infernal handwriting, and my heart sank.

  Yann?k.

  This is for your Krovposvet.. Wear it with pride. Good luck, dear.

  Mother.

  The note sent a shiver down my spine. I ripped it off the garment and threw it away. Inspecting the fabric closer, I spotted the set of golden rings mounted on the shoulders, and it suddenly dawned on me. The Hunter’s Mantle. The sanguine cloak bearing the house crest, which every winner bore after their Krovposvet. Our twisted version of a signet ring, showing the world who was victorious. Leonora must also have gotten one of these, if anything, to keep up the appearance that there still was a chance for me to lose.

  With a deep breath, I began putting it on. It stretched tight across my chest, almost restricting my breathing as I closed the buttons in the front. The collar wrapped around half my throat. Itchy. The gold trimming on the piece made it look disgustingly fanciful, made me feel disgusting, like dressing up just to kill. I threw a few more items in my bag, utilities, just in case I actually needed to stay gone. If I had the chance to escape. Closing it up, I stuffed it under my bed, just in case the walls were actually watching. It couldn’t be long before they came to collect me. I sat down on my bed, having one last thought about everything I could be leaving behind if Leo had lied to me. She wouldn’t, not about something like this.

  Father was knocking on my door as soon as the sun had set. His knock was forceful, yet not aggressive. He knew I would come willingly. There’s no use in fighting it anymore. I’m guessing that’s why he was sent to get me and not Mother. She had always been the one to deal with Leo. If Father had gotten that task, I think Leo would have been dead years ago. Opening the door, I greeted him politely. I plastered a smile on my face. It didn’t belong there.

  “Evening, Father,” I said coldly. Straightening my back.

  My father was one of few who stood at eye level with me. It was unnerving, having someone stare me straight in the eye, especially today.

  “I’m glad to see you’re ready, son.” He said without any sign of happiness in his voice.

  I gave him a curt nod as he moved aside, leaving the doorway open for me to walk through. My feet wouldn’t move, didn’t want to walk those steps down into the caverns, even though both mind and body knew there was no choice. I took a deep breath and forced myself to move, walking past my Father out of my room. He stayed close behind, him and the house both making sure I didn’t try anything smart. Like, there was nowhere to run anymore. This is it, and there is nothing I can do about it. If my life wasn’t miserable already, it sure would be once the Krovposvet is over. We walked in silence through the halls. I could hear the murmur of voices coming from the caves below; more than what could only be Mother and Leo. The whole family must’ve gathered to enjoy the show.

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  “Who’s here?” I asked my Father. Still keeping my eyes looking straight ahead. Turning around as we walked down the narrow stairs into the caves was a certain way to fall and prematurely die.

  “Everyone.” He answered bluntly. Confirming my suspicion.

  I had nothing to say to that. The fact that the entire family had gathered to watch me murder the one person I cared for most in this mortal world made my stomach churn with nausea.

  This really was just a game to them. A sport to be watched and enjoyed. They treated us like animals. Throwing us into the tunnels and watching us run for our lives through their runes. The thought made me vomit inside my mouth as we emerged into the vast cave at the bottom of the narrow staircase.

  Swallowing the sour, viscous liquid back down, I held my head high as I emerged in front of the crowd. Father grabbed my arm, hooking us together like he was about to give me away for marriage. Instead of a beautiful ceremony, he paraded me in front of my extended family. Every aunt and uncle, every cousin and nephew. Every failed child that hadn’t been one of a pair that watched me with jealousy in their eyes, wishing they could have had my place. Had it been up to me, I would have given it to them. Thanks to the quote-unquote ancient rule that only a set of twins could perform the Krovposvet and earn the highest honour there was within our family, the family was huge. Mother and Father both had many siblings who, in turn, had many children in hopes of having a set of twins to bring honour to their small part in this mess. I could see many of the twins that came before me littered in the crowd. Wearing the same blood red regalia that I had been coerced into. Only they had a Hunter’s Mantle bearing the family crest attached to the rings on their shoulders. The crimson cape shows their status as victors and survivors, serving the family.

  As we neared the center of the large hollow, I spotted Leo clad in an identical vest to the one I had been given. She stood so casually, like she wasn’t at all nervous about what was going to happen. She wore her regular clothes beneath the tight vest. Her lace sleeves and dark pants peeked through to show that the sister I knew was still defiant until the bitter end. Our eyes locked from across the room, and she smiled at me. Surprising. It seemed genuine, no hint of her usual scheming smirk. Either she, for once, wasn’t planning anything. Or she had already completed her plan. I don’t know which option scared me more. I suppose it’s not worth worrying about. There are bigger fish to fry now.

  Mother was standing next to her, keeping a firm hand on her shoulder. A silent warning not to try anything funny. The walk to the center dais didn’t take long. The four of us were standing there in front of hundreds of eyes staring at us with glittering excitement. Waiting for something to happen. The stone altar felt like a certain death behind me; that block was going to be the death of me. I’m going to have to become one of them, hunting down people to bleed on top of that stone. I would rather die. Yet here we are, deciding my fate. Father let go of my arm, not sensing the same need to keep me from running like Mother clearly did with Leo. He gave Mother an expectant look, saying.

  “Eris, darling. Would you do the honours?”

  And so it began. Mother spoke with glee, her voice shrill and sparkling. “It’s so good to see you all here to celebrate this wonderful day!” She rejoiced. The words made my stomach churn. I could hear the slow murmurs in the crowd, speculations of who was going to come out on top. Who would be deemed a failure and become another grave in the tunnels?

  I scanned the crowd, looking for any sign as to who they may favour as their winner; zoning out Mother’s words.

  “The time has come for our beloved children to enter the tunnels and show us who is worthy of joining our prestigious order.” She continued, receiving graceful nods from the crowd. “Look to one another, and see what eternity demands of us,” she said. “This is not cruelty.

  This is a blessing.

  Her smile was disgustingly bright; she genuinely seemed to be enjoying this. She fully believed that what she was saying was the undeniable truth. I did as she said anyway; there was nothing else to be done. When she finished, the sound of her voice lingered, echoing down the tunnels like a thread of light twisting through the dark. Leonora’s hand brushed mine, quick, deliberate. She was shaking. Or maybe I was. I couldn’t be sure. Above us, the floor rumbled softly, the sea pressing its weight against the stone, and for a moment I thought the house itself sighed, content that we had remembered our place. For that single moment when everything was quiet, things felt alright. There was only Leo and I, shaking with fear, staring at each other, smiling in a silent goodbye. Speaking now felt too loud. Out of place. I enjoyed the silence for as long as it lasted, relishing that last moment with my sister before Mother spoke again.

  “For the Hunt!” She beamed

  “For the Blood!” The crowd echoed, Leo and I staying quiet as they led us away towards separate entrances to the maze of tunnels. I had expected to be given one of the ritual blades I had seen when we snuck into these chambers as children. How wrong I was. Instead, I was simply told that two daggers had been thrown somewhere inside the tunnels for us to stumble upon. It was really a race against time. They could be anywhere. If I knew my parents right, they wouldn’t just have tossed them on the floor somewhere; they would be hidden. If anything, just to make it more entertaining for them to watch us fumble our way through the darkness, looking for them. Sadistic fucks; all of them.

  And so I stood there in front of a carved archway, staring into pitch black darkness. I could feel it staring back.

  I could faintly hear my Father behind me, explaining how I needed to push the button on the hilt of the knife down if I managed to stab Leo. It would suck her blood up into the blade so I could drink it later. I don’t know who came up with these sick traditions, but I’m happy they’re dead. At least I hope they are. People in this family live weirdly long. That’s not something to worry about now. Not my problem.

  Taking a few deep breaths, I tried my best to ready myself for what’s to come. There’s no avoiding it anymore. I felt weirdly nervous for something I had been preparing for my entire life. For something, I knew exactly how it was going to end. Yet I still felt the metaphorical butterflies fluttering around in my stomach. I hope Leo is just as nervous. If I’m seen as an underdog and end up on top, I’ll never hear the end of the celebration. That would almost be more hellish than the ritual itself.

  Thankful, I didn’t have enough time to think for my thoughts to spiral further before it all began. Without warning, Father pushed me forward, and I stumbled into the darkness. I could hear stone sliding into place behind me, effectively locking me in. I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I stood there. Feeling the darkness pushing in from every side, threatening to suffocate me if I didn’t move. The air was thick, like the darkness itself had settled like a heavy mist inside the tunnels. Remembering I was being watched, I started running. The cut in my leg burned with every step, but I couldn’t stop. I needed to find that knife before Leo ended up with both of them. I reminded myself that whatever pain I was feeling as I was running wasn’t anything compared to Leo losing her life. I have no right to complain. I ran for what felt like an eternity, slamming my face into wall after wall when I couldn’t see the turns coming. Because of the steady, warm stream of viscous liquid streaming down my chin, I realized my nose had broken somewhere along the way. So much adrenaline was pumping through my body that I had stopped feeling any pain a while ago. I didn’t stop running until I felt my foot snag on something. Stopping, I briefly caught my breath and crouched down, reaching my hands out towards the floor, hoping to find a blade. I have no idea how I didn’t smell it before I touched it. My fingers skated across the rough stone floor before finding something cold and soft. It bulged around where my fingers pushed against it. Like a sack filled with fluid or a pustule about to burst open. This was clearly not a blade, but I kept exploring anyway. Trailing my hands upwards, following the length of the bloated mass. I realized what it was when my finger slipped into what I think was a navel. The small divot made it clear that this was a bloated corpse. I don’t know why I didn’t immediately pull away. It is absolutely disgusting, but for some reason, I kept trailing my hands upwards to find the shoulders, in hopes of finding an arm, finding a hand, that with any luck was holding a blade. I hurried my search, knowing I didn’t have much time. Each centimeter of skin I touched made my gut twist further into knots, and I wanted to vomit. But this is not the time to be making a bunch of noise. It could lead Leo right to me. Instead, I swallowed my nausea down and carefully squeezed my way down the bloated arms. Careful not to burst them open. The corpse felt so small, like it was just a child. I couldn’t hush the thought that this could have been Leo and me, had we not been twins when we wandered down here as reckless teenagers. We got lucky.

  When I reached down to the small hands, I felt something cold sticking out of the top of the left palm. Focusing both my hands to the left, I could feel that a blade had been used to pin the frail hand to the ground. Stabbed straight through. It felt disrespectful to steal the last form of defense from a helpless corpse, but what choice do I have? I grabbed the handle and pulled the blade from the child’s hand. I feel the weight of it in my hand and find the button on the top of the hilt. This is the exact blade I need. I breathed a sigh of relief laced with disgust.

  Without thinking, I reached my hands down in front of me and pushed off. Not realizing that I was pushing my whole weight against that fragile, bloated stomach. With a sickening pop, the gut burst with a spray of decayed fluid and organ matter. I didn’t have time to pull back before I was covered in a chunky mess reeking of death. I could feel chunks of whatever was left inside the little corpse falling down my face. Dripping down onto my previously regal attire.

  This time, I did vomit. I couldn’t stop it. It took a long second before I could move again. I was frozen in front of the little body. Covered in what was once alive. The smell was unbearable, stinking like rotting meat and shit. Yet sweet. Just like that, I had desecrated this poor, dead body. There was no time to mourn or wallow in my own misery. I had to keep running. Clutching the blade tight, I forced my legs to move further into the endless labyrinth. Breathing through my mouth, both from exhaustion and in a futile attempt to escape the smell, I prayed Leo wouldn’t find me first. If we were to make our plan look believable to all the eyes watching us through the walls, I had to find her first.