This is just like back then, Mel thought, as she crashed through the snow. It was cold beyond brisk, the kind of cold that gets in your nose and sticks. It wasn’t so much a break in the weather as it was a breaking point in their lives. Small powdery flakes, swirling around her; they landed against the sensitive skin of her face, a thousand frigid hornets. They clung to her ears and made nests in her eyelashes. She tried to blink them away, but between that and the tears, her eyelids were heavy, gummy. These little stars craved distance, flew out behind her like ghosts, propelling her forward. It seemed like they were pushing against her hindquarters, whispering run, run, run. She pulled the burning air into her lungs, felt her pulse in her ears: run, run, run. Somewhere in the darkness, her sister pursued her, following behind like fire does the wind. There were no soft cups of light, but a glowing trail, the flames licking at her heels, leading right to her, drawing Mara like a moth to a light. No crossing, no whimsy, no joy, just a straight, turf pounding race for her own life. Deranged giggles echoed around her, drawing close on one side, drifting far on the other. Mel couldn’t decide if Mara was toying with her, or if she honestly couldn’t catch up. Reflections, reverberations. Never one without the other, but soon to be the other without one. The far down itch, that long festering wound, had abscessed and burst forth, leaking purulent ichor in a long trail behind her, like organs dangling from wounded prey. Her eyes darted to the side across every drift, beyond every tree trunk, the very real threat of Mara appearing, crashing into her, knocking her down and finishing the job she’d started. Mel didn’t feel the wound in her neck, sharp teeth just inches away from her jugular. Blood leaked from the two puncture wounds, their sting simply folded into the rest of the cold, the panic, the adrenaline. Her blood splattered in the snow, creating a visceral, physical trail for Mara to follow, along with the psychological one. An arm and a leg and all the trees in the forest was not enough distance; the only thing that heartened her was not seeing Mara’s eye spots reflecting in the darkness. But even without that, Mel was haunted, a specter nipping at her heels. This time, she knew it was coming. She skid to a stop just before the river, cutting right and sprinting down river, hoping to find-- anything, really. A town, a settlement, a camp, other people, someone, anyone, to save her, to stop Mara. Charging footsteps in the silence, a red flash in the night. Mara’s chest came careening into the side of her body, sternum to shoulder-- and broke the illusion, shattering the imagine into a thousand pieces as she reared up, not in time to stop herself, hind end sliding on the snow and landing sharp on her tailbone. “Coward! Rat!” Mara shrieked as Mel ran on. She didn’t spare her sister a glance but the urge was still there, the desire to look and see if Mara was okay, to laugh good-naturedly at her mishap. Her heart might have squeezed if it wasn’t so focused on pushing blood and oxygen through her adrenaline-fueled body. For the briefest of moments, she felt like she might make it; she thought, hoped beyond hope, that she was home free. And then there was a sharp change in the air and the wind picked up and she was skidding to a stop at the top of a large drop; the water careened downward, too large and too quick to be properly frozen. She hadn’t heard the churning falls over the slam of her own pulse, the huffing of her own breathing. Her feet slipped out from under her and she backpedaled, stones crumbling away from where she dug her hooves into the snow. She paused for just a moment, exhaustion crashing into her like Mara had tried to do, and she pivoted to run along the mountain’s edge-- --a shadow reared up and wrapped around her legs, binding them. She fell hard on her side, breath pushed from her lungs, cold shocking through her. She was dragged through the snow; it clogged her nostrils and ears, muffling noise and adding to the panic. Fighting against the squeezing shadow, thrashing futile, bruising. A dark shadow stretched over her. A nose, disturbingly gentle, pressed against her cheek, sweet breath fanning over her skin, rustling her eyelashes. “Why-- why are you doing this?” Mel asked, gasping, fighting to force the words out. “Why!” Mara shrieked, close to her ear. “Why, why, why. You’re so self important.” “You’re my sister!” Mara stepped back, tonguing over her bloodstained teeth. “You’re my sister,” she parroted, mockingly, lips twisting up. “Do you hear how pathetic you sound? God, you were always so presumptuous. Asking questions, demanding answers.” She stepped back, striking a hoof into the snow. “I never understood what mother and father saw in you.” “I don’t-- they loved you, Mara!” Her legs thrashed; the shadow loosened. “‘Loved’ me. They loved me.” She spits, Mel’s blood splattering across the ground. “They only ever cared about you! No matter what I did, no matter what I said, they only cared about you.” Her voice hikes up at the end, like she might break into tears, but instead she giggles, hair falling across her face. “I tried so hard. And then I helped you home that one time you twisted your ankle-- you remember, we were still babies? I walked you home and they were so relieved that you were okay, they couldn’t stop praising me. Thank the gods you were there, Mara. We’re so proud of you.” She was pacing, now. With every sharp twist, the shadow around Mel’s legs grew more and more slack. “It was the first time they’d ever appreciated me. The first time they’d noticed me. And I realized the only time I had worth to them was in relation to how close I was to you. Their affections were measured through you!” Mel rolls to her knees, trying to calm her heartbeat. “I learned I had to keep you down. I had to put myself in a position to help you. I had to put you in danger, in threat of harm-- not enough to kill you, no, but a terrifying moment, an injury-- anything to keep you rattled.” Mel felt that like a rock to her skull, even though deep down, she’d known. She’d known and she’d ignored it, because she wanted to pretend it wasn’t real. She didn’t want to believe that her sister could be doing these things to her. “But it backfired on you, didn’t it?” she said, voice low, measured, even while her limbs trembled. “Because it was so fleeting. They would immediately turn to take care of me. And you’d be left out in the cold, again.” “Oh sweet Melinoe, so clumsy,” Mara spat with such vitriol her whole body shook. “So cute, so quirky. Our special little girl. It was disgusting.” Stomp, stomp, stomp, turn. “So I had to keep escalating. Every time, it had to be a little worse, and a little worse.” She stops, falling deathly still, pupils constricting to pinpricks. “After a while, I realized it wasn’t working any more; and then, I just kept going because I liked it.” Mel swallowed, bile sluicing down her throat, tears pricking at her eyes. “You-- mother and father loved you. They saved you.” “‘Saved me?” Mara screams, voice flaring hoarse at the end. “What kind of sick bastards bring a child into their family just to ignore them?” Her breath is heaving now, chest pumping. “They stole my pride and they stole my self worth. They didn’t even tell me they were dying!” Her voice broke, and she was really crying now, almost sobbing. “Because they knew, Mara,” Mel said, shuddering to her feet, the realization sending a different kind of ice through her veins. “No one’s that clumsy. They knew, at the end. That you were crazy. They were scared you would do-- this. Exactly this.” It hurt, it still hurt, but she had to steel her heart. She had to say it. “Up until the end, they were protecting me. Me, and not you.” “Shut UP!” Mara screamed, so loudly it knocked snow from the trees. “They should’ve left you in the cold to die where they found you, you sick freak!” “I’LL KILL YOU!” And Marakorum’s voice was not mortal, not anymore, and she was charging forward, she was going to crash into Melinoe and drive them both over the cliff to their death, and she hit her sister’s body and went flying through the illusionary shape of it, pitching forward over the edge, and falling, screaming, falling, screaming. It was so far down, her voice disappeared before it could be cut off. Melinoe shook and looked at the space in the air where her sister had been. She cried and felt sick, trembling uncontrollably. Her sister had beat her, had almost killed her, had been trying to kill her, all their lives. And still, Mel felt sick. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed, snot and snow frozen across her face. “I’m sorry, I love you. I love you, I’m so sorry.” Her legs collapsed out from under her. She knew she should walk to the edge, to look, to make sure, but she couldn’t. She stumbled and slipped in the snow, and she crawled away, tripping like she was drunk, sobbing so powerfully she couldn’t breathe. Around her, the snowflakes fell.