(This may not be suited for all to read.)
"Glîrel where is your brother?" Arasdes, her mother, questioned while placing the last plate on the table. The rich smell of the beef stew filled the dining room.
"I am not my brother's keeper, mother!" Glîrel replied while pulling the chair out for young Rîlhel who climbed into her chair and sat down, her small tongue running over her lips as her stomach growled after a long day of play.
"You may not be his keeper but I am certain you know where he has gone. It is supper and his chair his empty."
Glîrel rolled her eyes "All I know is that he went off with his friends to celebrate something. He refused to tell me what. Claimed that it was improper for a woman to hear." There was a small laugh heard from Glîrel's husband, Calaer. The young woman's eyes turned to him at the laughter "You know, don't you?"
Calaer shrugged his shoulders and sat himself down beside Rîlhel, the small child looking up at her father with a wide smile. Calaer looked down at the girl with a small grin of his own but eyes soon returned to his wife, not having enough bravery to ignore the woman for too long. "The runt has finally found a woman to accept him" He stated bluntly "They thought it means to celebrate."
Glîrel felt her cheeks warm at her husband's answer and stepped over to the small girl who stared up at her father with curiosity in her eyes, about to ask something when interrupted by her mother who wiped her thumb against the girl's cheek to brush away some dirt "H-hey! Stop it!" Rîlhel whined, waving her mother's arm away and looking up at her with a pout.
Arasdes huffed and shook her head "He better be able to get up in the morning. There are chores to be done before the first snow."
"Then tell him that when he gets back, mother! I wasn't the one who sent him out to drink. I'm sure that he'll manage to roll out of bed, headache or not. Else we'll just have to leave some water out to chill and dump it on him." Glîrel was not shy of her amusement at the thought, recalling the yells of her brother the last time she had given him such rude awakening.
"Can we eat now!?" Rîlhel questioned impatiently looking between the three adults with the pout growing "I am hungry!"
"Yes. Go on, sweety." Arasdes kindly answered as she stood opposite the three and handed a basket of bread over allowing the girl to start while the adults performed their supper ritual. Their faces turned towards the west, gazing there for a solemn minute before they sat to dine.
The hour turned late and the fall rain hammered against the windows, the young child sat in her bed and cradled by her mother to sooth her fear of the roaring thunder that would rumble nearby. "Hush, Rîlhel. It's only thunder, it will not harm you." Her mother murmured to try and calm the frightened child.
Out in the main room Calaer and Arasdes spoke among themselves with the elder woman peering towards the window with concern "Perhaps you should go out and look for him? The rain is getting worse and we cannot afford for him to get sick now. He may have had a drink or two too much and sat somewhere to rest unable to get back up."
Calaer grunted and shook his head "I'll go seek him out" He resigned and rose to his feet, grabbing his coat and throwing it on as he stepped to the door and opened.
He was startled by a figure standing outside in the darkness and reeled a step back, the small carpet slipping under his heel causing Calaer to fall back.
The man he looked upon was drenched from the rain and stepped forward to invite himself to into their home. There was a crazed glint in the man's eyes and a dagger gleaming in his hand.
Calaer turned to get up onto his feet to reach for his weapon but it was too late. The man was already upon him and the blade was quick to find its mark, buried deep into the nook of his neck
"What is going on?" Arasdes rushed towards the front door turning pale at the sight and a scream erupting from her. The man's gaze rose to the woman that turned to rush into the kitchen to find a blade to arm herself with.
The blade was yanked out of Calaer's neck as the man rose, purposeful steps made towards the kitchen an arm looping around the woman before she could turn to defend herself. Arasdes gasped and tried to struggle out of his grip but it was too strong, her head was forced back and cold steel raked through her exposed throat. The grasp slacked, and let the woman fall.
Inside the bedroom of the young girl Glîrel had gotten her daughter to hide underneath the bed after hearing the screams outside. Gripped with fear she grabbed the candleholder off the desk and inched her way to the door with her back finding the wall beside the door and the weapon she had found for herself raised and ready.
Glîrel felt her heart in her throat as the heavy footsteps neared the room and soon the door opened, the man stepping inside and peering through the darkness.
The thunder rumbled outside again as the candleholder came swinging towards the man's head making him to stumble but it did not cause him to fall. He whirled around and caught the woman by her throat, growling in anger as he slammed her back against the wall.
Glîrel cried and tried to scream but it was silenced as the windpipe was crushed in his grip, her hands desperately clawing at his arm but it was of no use. The blade came up and with a single thrust struck into her chest and twisted violently. Glîrel's face turned pale and contorted in agony, her body dropping against the wall as his grip loosened and the dagger pulled back.
A cry was heard from underneath the bed as the child witnessed the dead stare of her mother after her body had fallen to the ground. Her eyes then darting to the man's boots as he turned and stepped closer, slowly squatting down by the bedside.
"Come out, Rîlhel" The voice was familiar to the child and despite it all the girl crawled from underneath the bed to seek comfort from the man she knew. The child knew no better as she was gripped with fear and now stood in front of the darkened man.
A twisted smirk contorted a once familiar face into something much more terrible. Crazed eyes met hers, glistening with tears. She realized that she did not recognize this man at all. But by then it was far too late. The blade drew back, heavy with the guilt of thoughtless massacre.
Her small, fragile body fell. Only then did the weight in his hand become tangible, a window of clarity amidst the haze of bloodlust.
Blood dripped from the point of the dagger as his hand begun to tremble.
