over and over and over and over and over and over and

[find me in the future]

The bow trembles in my hands.

The arrow is off-course.

It is always off-course.

It plummets, useless, into the underbrush. Twenty paces. Not worth the calluses.


"Again."


I dare not to turn to her voice, and instead pluck another arrow from its straw bouquet.


The bow trembles in my hands.


Always off-course.



"Again."



A barley bird watches from a shady branch. She knows the truth. She knows there is no danger.




"Again."




The bow trembles in my hands.

[find me in the future]

I lift, swing, and-

The sword falls from my grip.

I am not strong enough.

It clatters upon the polished tiles. My reflection sighs. Why bother with training?


"Again."


Her expression is as severe as her tone, but at least her eyes aren't spiteful today.


I lift, swing, and-


Not strong enough.



"Again."



On these days, my brothers never laugh. Mother's favorites. They know that laughter is no medicine for shame.




"Again."




I lift, swing, and-

[find me in the future]

The fiddle's steel strings shriek.

I falter, wince, and lower my bow.

Artless and lacking.

One word- always one word- a knife held to my throat. It's always the same.


"Again."


I close my eyes, imagining a different life.


The fiddle's steel strings shriek.


Artless...



"Again."



Somewhere far away. I deserve no more. A warm hearth. Peaceful fields.




"Again."




The fiddle's steel strings shriek.

[find me in the future]

I lie awake and listen.

In the hall, the starsinger casts her bones.

A future to perceive.

Mother's chainlinks hiss, sounding out her inquisitive movements. Fate, signed and sealed.


"Again."


Her voice strains, grim-taut.


I lie awake and listen.


My future-



"Again."



I have never heard her beg. What do they see? Fear rolls alien from her tongue.




"Again!"




I lie awake and listen.

[find me in the future]

In the morning, Mother gathers us in the hall. We join hands, my brothers and I, while she watches on. The starsinger touches our shoulders and whispers her prayers to the Seer.Why?She says something more to Mother, something that mists her eyes, and then she takes her tools and leaves.




I am given a year and a day.And then...



Mother sends us into the fields, though at first I do not go far. She bars the sanctum door behind us.She knows the truth.I catch cold glimpses of her ascent through the windows of her tower, clutching at her moonstone pendant.


My brothers are calling me.

We know that we will only have this one day for reprieve, and Time such as this is not ours to squander.