Bloodvine

The moon shone and the farm was silent and they were free.

Two sisters were sitting on a wooden roof. It was riddled with holes, but well built. The precious few intact planks held them even now. It was comfortably warm, too; the everlasting twilight didn't have much part in that, but the torches scattered all around the old granary well kept them from freezing.

"What a day, huh?" They giggled at that, both of them. "Mmh."

The older one raised her head slightly, just enough that she could look the other in the eye. Her neck ached. "Have I ever told you how much I love you, kori mi?" 

"Only about a dozen times in the last hour" the younger one replied, but she did so with a smirk. Her auburn hair danced in the breeze. "But someone had to break the silence, and it sure as hell wasn't gonna be me, to sasa."

"Mmh." Speaking had gotten exhausting many hours ago, but some things just needed to be said. "When do you think the others will be here?" 

The brunette sister raised her index and middle finger and vaguely pointed to the right. "Can't be long. The lighthouse ignited, what, an hour ago? They should have crossed the bridge by now."

Following where she was pointing, the other let her head slack off to the side, feeling the wood on her cheek. Her raven colored hair fell into her eyes. She left it there. Up on the hill towards the far end off the valley, the old lighthouse stood proud. It had been used by her tribe for centuries if not millenia. The light had gone out a little more than three days prior, but recently reignited. 

When they'd noticed, they cried. 

They'd cried all their exhaustion and pain away, and then climbed up to the roof. Since then, they had been waiting. For the first time in seventy hours, they had allowed themselves the luxury of closing their eyes, but they hadn't slept. Not yet. Too heavenly was the silence and the ability to simply breathe.

"How's your arm, kori mi?" 

"It's alright. Stopped hurting last night." Turning her head once more, the older one shot her a glance. "The tourniquet is still tight, then. Maybe they can save it."

"Oh, it's fine. Don't worry about me, Kashra. Better watch out your belly wound stays closed." She laughed. "It's just an arm. We'll live." And then she smiled, and it was a genuine smile. After all these years, Kashra still didn't understand how she did it. 

Her younger sister Bishra, kori un belowt of her life, never stopped smiling. Born into an endless war, she smiled. Facing hunger and gore every day despite being a materi, the tribe of farmers, she smiled. When their parents had died and Kashra had wept for two days and a night, she smiled. 

When they had been assigned to the corn guard, the unit with the highest casualty rate by a mile, she had smiled. When the ereluf had killed her lover, she had smiled. And for the past three days, when the seterax just kept coming, she had smiled. 

Her little sister's smile was one of kindness and defiance and pride and compassion, and she wouldn't let anyone wipe it off her face. 

So Kashra had fought. She'd fought for a day, holding the granary that stored vital food for the tribe. 

When reinforcements hadn't arrived by nightfall and the seterax lit torches outside, she'd fought on. 

When half her unit had fallen by the second evening, she'd fought on.

When the seterax fell back to regroup by the end of the second night, she'd built barricades out of the bodies of the fallen.

And when they returned by noon of the second day, she'd fought on.

Even when the enemy vanguard had broken into the granary and all lines collapsed, she'd fought on like a madwoman, with gloves and hooves and vines until she had driven them back.

By the end of the second night her fur was covered in such a thick crust of blood she wasn't even sure if she would ever be able to clean it again, but she'd fought on.

When the third day ended, only Bishra and her were still alive and they had given up all hope for reinforcements, but she would let nobody in the world snuff out her sister's smile. So she'd fought on. 

And finally, when the third night ended, the bonfire had lit up on the old lighthouse. Her brethren had reclaimed the entrance of the valley. Help would come soon. They seterax had fled, no doubt racing to fall back to the front lines of the conflict, miles to the east. 

"You know what they started calling you on the second day?"

"Hm?"

"Vin Belowt." 

Kashra just scoffed at that. It hurt. She had lost a lot of blood, and every breath felt like a dagger in her chest. "Good. That'll teach them to stay away from you." 

"I swear, think of yourself for once. A name like that brings prestige, but fear oso. You might have assassins on your heel soon." There was concern in Bishra's eyes, but the smile was still there.

"Hmm. I might." She wouldn't. Not before this war was over. Silently, sleep took her.

The moon shone and the there were calls in the distance and they would never be free.