Betrayal

A field at midnight. The darkness is soft, and hushed, and the grass is frosted and silver. It is cold, a winters night without snow. There is the promise of a warm day ahead, but now it is cold, and the cold seems as though it will stretch on to eternity. The trees stand, silent sentinels to the two figures below.

A man stands, a dagger in his hilt. His hand hovers above it, and his eyes are dark. She kneels before him, head bowed. Her long golden hair covers her face, and her hands are clasped in her lap. She is crying.

"I won't hurt you" he says, as he readies his blade. He is procrastinating before the final strike. He swallows hard, and she cannot know his mind. She knows only what he says, what he wants her to know. She has followed him, meekly and silently, never questioning his intentions. Only the smallest glimmer of doubt stirs in her heart, but she ignores it.

"I won't hurt you" he repeats, gripping the hilt harder. He raises his dagger, faltering for a moment. She is unawares, her eyes cast to the ground. She does not see. She does not know he is going to hurt her, to make her bleed and cry even harder. She does not know that he is capable of betraying her so completely. She does not know that anyone is capable of such coldness.

"Do you promise?" She whispers. "Do you swear?" All she wants is reassurance, to hear it from his lips. If he says it, if he swears it, it will be true. She has never lied to him, and knows he would not lie to her.

"I promise." He says, his voice soft and caring. He places a hand on her shoulder, and squeezes gently. She swallows back her tears, and raises her eyes for a moment. The knife is hidden in the darkness. She lowers her eyes once more, satisfied. The knife flashes in the star light for a moment, before cutting into ivory flesh.

She couldn't see it coming. He moved behind her, out of her line of site. She is taken by surprise, no hint of the knife or the hand that held it. Her eyes widen, and she falls forward, aware that pain like this has never entered her life before.

Her eyes seek out his, but he is still behind her. She cannot see him, and he offers no explanation. Why? He promised! He told her he wouldn't hurt her! He had lied to her, looked into her eyes and lied! What had she done? At every fork, she had taken his path. She had denied him nothing, and he had turned on her.

She lies on the ground. It is not a death blow, but she feels as though she will die. She doesn't see him leave, doesn't hear his footsteps. Her cheek rests against the pale cold grass, and she cannot find the strength to move. Betrayed. The word is sharp, like a blade. He swore!

She is heedless of the tears that streak her face. She feels nothing but numbness, icy and consuming. It spreads from her belly, embracing her whole being. There is nothing, not thought or feeling or even pain. She is beyond pain. She is betrayed.

She lies there for hours, not moving. She has stopped bleeding, but the stains are there for all to see. She knows that she will scrub and scrub, but they will remain. The wound and the stains will always be there, for all to see. She will try to hide them, but nothing can remain hidden forever. She slowly picks herself up and wipes a few stray tears from her eyes. The night is almost gone, and the grey light of dawn is creeping over the mountains.

She knows she will never see him again. He came, did his damage, and left, like the hot winds of the dry season. And even though he has hurt her so, that thought brings her sorrow. Her only wish was to see into his eyes when he brought down that blade, to see what his soul said as he did the one thing he swore he would not do.

But the pain is dulling. She does her best to hide the bloodstains, and lifts her head up high. She has her pride, and she will not let them see her hurt. Walking slowly, she leaves the field, as the mornings sun melts the night's frost, and coats the grass in gold. With the sun comes the warmth, and the promise a new day for all.