My siblings can be harsh. I believe that it’s in their natures, but I feel that they can be unnecessarily cruel. Perhaps it’s in my nature to believe that, but of course, they would then argue that I’m just too passive. The way they spit it frames it as a weakness, but I’m not sure if it is. They think the only actions worth taking are active actions. How plain of them.
Just because I can be passive, doesn’t mean that I don’t have strength.
Ask the man in the ice.
When we were born, triplets as we are, we latched onto the different objects presented to us as gifts. My brother, fiery and proud as he is, reached for the sun with fingers darkening as they took it. His face grew bright and glinted gold in the high places. He’s hard to look directly at, and he is beautiful, but he is beautiful and harsh. Our middle sibling dipped their hands into the stars and watched the fluid drip down their arms. All of the points of light fit them well. Gender is too defined of a choice, and my darling prefers more than just two. They spread the stars across their body, and became as the light glinting over their collarbone and angles, gentle in most cases, but just as burning as our brother up close. I, coming last and waiting for my siblings to choose their gifts, received the moon in the same way, calmly, gently, and perhaps rightfully. The light it cast over me was soft, drowning, but clean as water. I felt the color wash out of me, leaving my hair a field of snow and pale electrum. I moved my arms slowly, felt the tides follow my fingers with each movement.
After that, we were set to rule as we were supposed to. My brother would rule the day, citing his beauty as the reason why men should gaze on him the longest. “And your cruelty?” I asked, my lips pursed in a smile.
The remainder of this story can be found on my patreon at https://www.patreon.com/hermesden/posts/awake-awake-170372184?utm_campaign=postshare_creator
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