A Terrible Love

     The wreckage was like play for young Bo, and he spent the afternoon winding in and out of the fallen trees and large stones that seemed to have been thrown in the middle of the village like so many pick up sticks.  There was mud and dirt everywhere, much to his delight.  But like so many other young ones, the masks of misery that his caretakers wore were as meaningless as the voice he heard.  His mother often cared for other infant nagets, their squalls were no more than noise to him now, although the first time he remembered hearing their cries he had covered his ears in shock and run with terror.  But his parents were going on about there being so much destruction; so much loss.  Where was the baby?  He knew how to make them stop crying.  You just made silly faces at them until their laughter bubbled over like mother’s soup in the pot.  The destruction couldn’t be so bad if there were still babies crying.  He asked mother about it.  
     The little naget’s tail was prettier than any he had seen before.  All the nagas in his village had dull red and black tails, with little yellow stripes in between.  The one mama found had bright bold red and yellow stripes, with black in between.  Backward.  Bo was mesmerized by its tip as it thrashed with her tears.  Pretty.
     As much as mother said she was their sister, Bo still remembered the day they had found her.  So many other memories of that time had faded away with his youth, but that one remained, bright and clear as the stars in his mind.  By the time he was ten, she was six, and he began to feel strange things inside of him; warmth and tension, with the flutterings of the butterflies that she loved so much.  He blushed vividly whenever he saw her playing at the edges of the fields, but that time soon passed into another more dangerous one.
     Bo had realized a while ago that Marissa’s tail was the only backwards one in the village, and as she grew older, more and more people in the village began to notice.  Once the young rogues in the village caught wind of it, they made her life a nightmare.  Bo experienced his first taste of rage when Marissa had come into the house sobbing, her slender arms covered in fist-sized bruises, the sting of a slap on her face.  She had fallen into his arms in a heap of tears, and he had cradled her tightly to him, every muscle in his body screaming to chase down the nagas he saw slipping away through the tall grass of the fields, jeering and laughing.  But he had bided his time, waiting.
     Father taught him how to fight, and his fists and a short spear became Bo’s constant assurances of Marissa’s safety.  Whatever he did, he did it with one eye on her, the other on his work.  At night he sometimes crept silently into her room, simply to watch her, soft and silent in her sleep, lashes fluttering with her dreams.  By the time father told him of his future as leader of the tribe, he knew without a doubt that he would be the one to protect Marissa from their prying eyes.  He would be the one to keep her safe from the floods that ravaged the plains every year.  He would be the one…to watch over her children.
     His children.
     He fought anyone who dared antagonize her.  With frozen anger he made them apologize, and sent them on their way.  His heart burned with every bruise they left on her, and he thought he would die each time she smiled, her eyes alight with wonder at her winged companions.  She held his heart in her hands every time she laughed, and each day he found it harder and harder to return her embraces with the firm and supportive love of a brother, instead of bending to her smiling lips to drink of the laughter that bubbled so merrily from them.  
     But her innocence was what made him remain silent.  He knew that she thought of him as nothing more than a brother, and anything Bo told her would surely break her spirit like lightning broke the sky.  She would be shattered, the last shards of her confidence torn away by the fact that she truly didn’t belong.  But she did belong, he told himself over and over.  His heart was so full for her that he would make this village see her differently.  He would.  She would understand.
     She had to.
     That night, Bo resolved to tell her.  He was twenty, and she was sixteen.  He was an adult and she a full fledged nagi.  His father was growing old and soon his arms would be the only ones to protect her.  He had to tell her.  Bo stood over her sleeping form, his mind racing for a way to tell her so she could understand.  He longed for her in ways he knew that only she would be able to satisfy, standing by his side as the one who would never leave him.  He knew he couldn’t convey this to her with words.  Words weren’t enough.  But to force his affections on her…..
     Torn by his emotions, Bo bent, holding his hair at the nape of his neck with his left hand, his right cupping her face in his fingertips.  If she couldn’t understand, he would lose her forever.  Stooping next to her, he lowered his lips over hers, and in that instant all his inhibitions were gone.  Pulling away, he noticed a faint smile on her features.  It was a sign.  It had to be.
     The next day, Marissa finished her work and went out into the tall grasses, where the butterflies flitted about in the wildflowers.  Bo gazed at her, his heart pounding wildly as he set his daily catch in the shed.  Leaning his spear in the corner of the house, he went out to her.  A butterfly painted in vivid blues landed on her nose as he reached her, his shadow falling across her form.  The creature flew away as she turned to look at him, that loving smile of hers playing on her features.  He couldn’t look at her.  The moment was too powerful.  Whatever happened, her happiness was in his hands.  But he couldn’t let it pass.  It had been too long.
     “Bo!”  Marissa rolled over in the grass, looking up at him.  Her long hair caught on several strands of grass, the sun glinting off of her locks.  Her face darkened.  “What’s wrong?”
     His emotions were tearing him apart.  It must have shown on his features, for Marissa’s eyes were filled with concern.  He was shaking inside.  “I’m in trouble, Marissa, he said, seating himself beside her, still unable to look at her.
     Then it came.  “Why?”
     “I'm in love with someone.  She's the most beautiful nagi I've ever seen and I want to take her as my wife and mate, but I'm worried about what she'll say.”  It was true.  In so few words he had said it all, but they still didn’t convey the torment within him.  One glance at her features told him that she still didn’t understand.  She was smiling with joy, but it wasn’t the right kind.  Bo’s heart was pounding so strongly he felt he would be torn apart.
     “You'll never know unless you try.  Why don't you just tell her how you feel?”
     “Because,” he said, his voice breaking, “I don’t want to frighten her.”
     “Why would you frighten her?” She asked.  Bo turned and looked at her, drinking in her features with a hunger he could no longer bear.  “You're the kindest, bravest naga I've ever met.  Who is she?  Maybe I can talk to her and....Bo?”
     Bo had never been one to act on impulse.  He was the perfect hunter, controlling his body’s quivering nerves until the moment was right to strike.  But this went beyond the hunt.  Faster than he realized he could move, he was hunched over he slender form, his lips covering hers, one hand tangled in her hair.  “Oh Marissa,” he breathed, hardly able to speak.
     He could feel her terror and confusion, her need for flight.  It pounded in rhythm with his own, beating wildly.  “Bo!” She cried.  “Stop!  This isn’t right! You’re my brother!”
     The moment of truth.  Of course she wouldn’t understand.  But he had to make her.  She had to understand.  “Not by blood,” he rasped.
     “What?”  She continued to struggle against him, her palms pushing against his chest.  She arced beneath his body.  “Bo, what are you saying?”
     Seizing her wrists, he forced her over her head, meeting her eyes with his own, feeling something savage and violent rising within him.  "Mama found you in the rubble after the flood years ago, Marissa.  You're not my real sister.  You don't even belong to this tribe." His gaze was intense, capturing her own as a serpent would capture a bird.  He drove his words home.  "That is why.  That’s why everyone else…hates you so much.  You're not one of us!"  
     All the strength was gone from her.  Here eyes were vacant, a shuddering sigh escaping from her lips.  Releasing her arms, he cradled her form against his own, pressing his mouth against the curve of her neck, a vein pulsing wildly against his lips.  Her head lolled weakly to one side.  
     “I’ll never be one of them.  Never.”  A single tear fell onto his arm.  Her heart was breaking, he knew.  But he could be its rescuer.  He could save her.  Her dress fell away, exposing her ivory flesh to his eyes.  He held her tightly to him, breathing into her ear.
     “Yes you will Marissa, just as soon as I make you mine.”
     Her body riveted as though he had struck her with lightning.  “You promised to always protect me!”  The words tore from her mouth, a veritable scream in his mind.  He slammed her into the ground.  He was losing her.
     "I'm the future leader of the tribe, Marissa!” He shouted, his face inches from her own.  The tears were rising in his eyes, and he couldn’t stop them.  “If you are my mate they'll be forced to accept you!  What better protection can I give?!”  He moved to her, another moment and she would belong to him, completely and utterly.  His fingers clutched at her, straining to hold her, as though, somehow, he could make her see.  He couldn’t, he realized.  She wouldn’t be able to let go.
     This thought was punctuated by her sudden strike beneath him.  Liquid fire pierced his shoulder and flew through his veins.  Howling in pain, he pulled away, but she came up with him, her teeth buried in his flesh.  Bo clutched at her hair, trying to make her release him as more of the fire seized him.  His flesh felt as though it was being torn from his very bones.  He could stand it no longer.  Pulling his hand into a fist, he drove it into her stomach, flinging her away from him.  His eyes weren’t focusing.  Shaking all over, he collapsed into the grass, hearing Marissa moving away from him.  “Marissa,” he rasped, then louder, “Marissa!”  Over and over he called for her.  Someone was coming.  His lungs wouldn’t fill.  The fire in his veins was eating into his mind.  Instead of darkness came a veil of red that enveloped him.  He was barely aware when rough hands lifted him from the ground.  

     His flesh was slick with sweat.  Over and over her name swirled in his mind.  Everything hurt.  His breath was like arid wind.  Someone was shouting, another weeping.  The world was spinning…he couldn’t…couldn’t….
     Her voice came to him like cool waters.  “Bo?”
     He struggled to open his eyes, shivering with cold.  “Marissa?” he croaked, smiling faintly.  “I thought you would…avoid me at all costs…after what happened.”   He wanted to say something more.  But the world was slipping again, spinning in spirals until all he could do was shut his eyes and give in.  “I’m dying,” he said soundlessly.  This time the veil that covered his thoughts was darkness.
     A cool touch.  Though it burned his skin, he clung to it.  There she was again, calling his name.  He fought to be free of the fever, to look at her again.  Her eyes were shining with tears.  Tears he had caused.  
     “I’m sorry Bo,” she sobbed.  Her voice was barely a whisper.  “I…I didn’t mean to.”  His mind was clearing.  He had to comfort her.
     “My fault,” he sighed wearily, doing his best to take a deep breath.  His throat was swollen, and he fought back a racking cough.
     “You don’t hate me for what I did?”  He almost laughed.
     “I could never hate my little sister,” he said wearily, “but you have every right to hate me.  I promised to protect you…and instead I caused the most harm.  Forgive me.”
     She laid her head on his chest, her hair soaked by his sweat.  “I don't hate you, Bo,” she said quietly.  “It doesn't matter what you did, or that we're not really siblings.  You'll always be my brother, but right now you need to worry about getting better.”
     Bo sighed, and in that moment, he felt his heart die within him.  “Thank you,” he said.  If nothing else he could set her free.  Closing his eyes, he slipped into darkness again.  This time, he didn’t fight it as it dragged him slowly under.  All he had ever fought for would never be his.  At least in darkness there was no agony.
     “Goodbye, Marissa.  I…love you,” he said into the stillness.  
     Then there was nothing.