⚠️ Content Warning: This is a disturbing flashback exploring the past of a central character, including themes of manipulation, familial betrayal, and sexual abuse. Proceed with care.
(Tana's POV)
10,000 Years Ago — Tana's Flashback
"Vetro is a problem."
"Yeah... he's starting to scare me. We have to do something about him."
I heard my siblings conspiring behind my brother's back. They whispered about sedating him, restraining him. I'd overheard things before—accusations that he was unstable, cruel, even insane—but to me, he'd never been anything but kind. I couldn't believe them. What scared me wasn't Vetro—it was them.
So instead of confronting them, I warned him.
"I'm appalled that... they would say that about me," he whispered, gently smiling as he ran his fingers through my hair.
"Thank you for telling me, Tana," he added sweetly.
I beamed with pride.
"I'm sure it's all just a misunderstanding. If you talk to them, I know it'll be okay. You're not dangerous, you're—"
"You're looking more and more like Mother every day… so beautiful," he said, cutting me off.
I blushed at the compliment. It was a high one, to me my mother was the very definition of beauty.
"Thank you. But don't brush me off! Promise me you'll talk to them," I pleaded.
He nodded and looked out the window.
"Oh, I will. I promise."
The next day, everything burned.
Fires choked the skies, painting the horizon red. Our home was in ruins.
I found my brothers' severed heads lying in the grass outside. The air reeked of ash and blood.
I ran away and found my sisters crying and screaming—Vetro had gone mad, they said. He'd murdered our father. Killed our brothers. He'd destabilized the planetary core. They claimed he was coming for our mother next.
"No!" I screamed. "You're wrong! V would never do that! And if he did—he must've had a good reason!"
They stared at me like I was possessed.
"He smiled, Tana," Larina shrieked. "He smiled when he killed Dad! I saw it!"
I couldn't breathe.
If it was true... then this was my fault. I warned him. I gave him time. My brothers, my father—maybe even our mother—died because of me.
My sisters, Larina and Cortav turned on me, assuming I'd taken his side. I had no choice but to fight back because... I didn't want to die.
In the chaos, I killed them.
My survival instincts surged, unlike them I hadn't chosen an element but my innate telekinesis exploded. It ripped them apart. Shielding me from their attacks as I curled up, shivering in fear.
Both her arms were torn from her body and her face split down the middle, but even in that state, with her dying breath, Larina cursed me:
"May the wounds I gave you never heal, so you'll never forget how you betrayed your family."
Her spell took root.
My face—split open—refused to mend. My body's natural recovery couldn't stop the bleeding. If it's a curse affecting me... then maybe it'll let me heal with skin that's not my own.
With that desperate thought, I stitched her skin onto mine just to stop the bleeding. It worked, my face healed instantly, but I'll no longer be able to look at myself without seeing Larina... and her curse repeating in my head.
The final battle was lost, and I was exiled with him. Three of our siblings managed to overpower Vetro, and our mother sealed the planet from him with a divine barrier.
Giving us no choice but to go to Earth.
He built us a house on an empty plot land.
I tried to adapt.
I wore bandages over Larina's skin. Vetro was the one who suggested, to hide the disfigurement. It helped me blend in.
I was the one who tended the fields, made clothes, and traded with humans. I did what I could to make life easier.
Weeks crawled by...
"Look what I made!" I said, holding up a robe embroidered with falling feathers, symbolic of my brother's lovely wings.
I was excited for his praise and feeling sentimental.
Vetro stood by the window, brooding. He only glanced at my work.
"Why are you wasting time trading with humans?" His tone was cold. Dismissive. Nothing like the man I knew. It didn't even bother to consider that the robe was for him...
"...Because we live here now..." I answered softly, while folding the clothes.
"So what? They should be bowing to us. Instead you've become a humble seamstress begging for change, and perfected a useless hobby." His frown deepened as he left the room, slamming the door behind him.
The whole house shook and my heart broke in that instance.
For the first time, I felt afraid of him.
But I pushed the feeling away. Perhaps I should take solace in the fact he said I 'perfected' my craft.
He's just stressed. This whole situation is stressful. I bet I can cheer him up, at least for a moment.
I cooked his favorite meal, beef stew, and finished sewing the robe for him.
He has built this house for us when we were banished, and Vetro is usually so kind. This is the least I can do. I knocked on his door.
"Hey, sorry to bother you but—" I began but paused when he flung it open.
He was sweaty, as if he had just exercised strenuously, wearing only an open robe and his underwear. I offered a timid smile.
"I made stew... and I finished your surprise," I chimed, hoping my positivity would move him.
"How thoughtful," he murmured. "Is there a reason?"
"Just you. I wanted to make you feel better."
He ran his fingers down my arm, lingering on my skin for an uncomfortable time. I flinched and retreated.
Then he grabbed my wrist, jerking me into his room.
"What are you—?" I began, but he dragged me, tossed me on the bed, and pinned my wrists with one hand.
"That hurts... I can't move—" I whined.
"Shut up." His voice was cold, so cold I got literal chills.
He lifted my dress. Covered my face with it.
As I felt his hand on my thighs, I squirmed, and cried,
"I'm sorry—Why are you mad? What did I do—"
Even then he didn't stop.
He thrust into me, grunting and panting, ignoring the cries escaping my lips. He wouldn't even look at my face. I don't know if he even noticed how much I was crying. Or if he would've cared.
Eventually, he lowered the cloth over my face but forced me to keep my head turned away as he continued to saitiate himself.
Time blurred. The stew spoiled without anyone getting to taste it.
He attacked me for almost a week, straight.
When he finally gave me rest, he left me to bathe alone.
I laid there and curled into myself, trembling. My body was too ragged to move.
The brother who once encouraged me, protected me, loved me... had broken something inside me.
But the next day... he was smiling again. His bitter disposition was gone and he treated me as if nothing happened.
We left his room and I follwed him still shaking.
"Is this my surprise?" he asked, seeing the robe laid across his chair.
"Y-yeah," I mumbled.
He sniffed it, and smiled brightly.
"Blue. My favorite color."
He changed in front of me, then rushed over to kiss my forehead.
"I love it," he said sweetly.
Then his gaze slowly drifted down from my eyes... and he kissed my lips.
When I pulled away, he pinned me to the wall, with a wicked grin.
"I love you more, though," he murmured. I was scared to move.
He pressed his lips to mine again. His kisses grew hungrier. Rougher.
He grinded into me, and I realized how he'd always seen me, not as a sister.
As something he could use and possess.
"Thank you so much, Tana," he whispered before taking me again.
After that, it never stopped.
He touched me every day. If I resisted, he bruised me.
Broke bones.
Refused to let me eat or drink until he got what he wanted.
Because I healed quickly he could be as rough as he pleased, and it pleased him to be rough.
A year passed like this, and I stopped fighting. My body responded even when I didn't want it to. I even started craving his touch like a depraved fool. I hated myself for it.
I knew he'd conditioned me, twisted my instincts—but knowing didn't make it stop.
"Good morning, Tana," he said one day, groping me while I cooked.
"Morning," I replied, barely audible.
Then he bent me over the counter, took me from behind. I had to struggled to turn off the stove so our meal wouldn't burn.
After he finished he left me on the floor and grabbed a juice carton from the fridge. He drank the whole thing then discarded the empty carton at my feet.
I've tried running away before, but every time I did, I blacked out and woke up in his bed, covered in lashes. So I stopped trying.
This isn't the life I wanted. But maybe...this is love... maybe I love him. Maybe this is normal. Maybe he loves me too and it's just hard for him to express feelings...
More days blurred past and one day as I gathered my items preparing to go to the market, Vetro stopped me and asked,
"Where are you going?"
He had on a sharp glare which matched his tone.
"To sell our goods... a-and get groceries." I explained timidly.
"Why the fuck are you always mingling with those things?!"
"...We need to blend in. It's normal to earn money, here."
"I'll kill every human in this town if I have to. Then there will be no need to blend in... You keep leaving me, do I need to cut off your legs to keep you home?"
It had been weeks since I left the house.
"I'm coming back," I whispered, already dead inside.
"I just hate being apart from you," he cooed, tilting my chin. "Fine. Let's go together," he conceded with a smile.
The pit in my stomach grew. But I smiled back anyway.
"Perfect solution," I lied.
We kissed in the doorway like nothing was wrong with it.
When we arrived at the market, a woman asked, "Is this your husband?"
"...Yes," I lied.
"He's very handsome. It's nice to meet you!" she said before walking away.
Vetro laughed—mocking, not amused.
Once she was far away he whispered,
"Why are you lying?"
"It's easier than explaining... our relationship."
"So you want to conform to human morality? Just like Mother. Both of you—fools," he rambled on idignatly.
I tried to focus on customers, but he grew more possessive. Scaring away most interested buyers, especially the men. If a man came close to the shop, he touched me vulgarly, glaring at them the whole time.
That day, when we got home, he was more violent than usual. He was convinced I wanted other men. He tore at my clothes and pulled me by the hair, throwing me into his bed. There he shouted at me and berated me for hours as he had his way.
The ferocity increased when I apologized and begged for forgiveness. He made sure I never forgot who I belonged to.
Now, he won't let me go anywhere without him. And he refuses to let me wear bandages over my face outside the house. So the villagers could see the real me.
Whenever I went out to the Market after that, he came with me.
With my scars on full display, even the regulars wouldn't buy from me.