Between Two Fates

Some siblings grow up like mirror images. Some spend their lives being as different as night and day. Moira and Hazel had been separated by circumstance, fate, and their own choices. They were in their late teen years when it all began, and in their twenties when it ended.

"Why are you doing this?" Moira asked in a bewildered tone.

"You stole my life!" Hazel screamed angrily.

Rain hammered down on their heads as they stood on the terrace. Moira's back was pressed against the railing, trying to get away from the blade pointed at her nose. Lightening cracked, flashing across the sky to illuminate the sisters.

"How could I do that?!" Her voice shook with fear and cold as freezing water soaked through the thin fabric of her nightdress.

"In 1858! You should have been the one to marry that weasel!" Hazel shook her head frantically. "Not me!"

"Five years ago, you chose James. I didn't even have a choice." Moira reminded her. "You said James would be manageable because he was injured. You just had to-"

"Look at him now!" She gestured to the castle behind her. "James disowned me and left me with nothing. And YOU?! You're here living like a bloody princess!"

Hazel lunged forward and Moira dodged to the side. She wasn't fast enough to escape a hefty jab to her shoulder from the blade. She yelped, holding her wound with trembling hands.

"You ended your marriage, Hazel! I didn't even know until last week." Moira replied. "If it's a money problem, I can help you."

"I don't need your help or your lecturing. You've no need to act like a big sister now." Hazel argued. "If you die, I'll play the role of a mourner and come to stay. Everything that should be mine, I'm taking it all back."

"You don't want to do this. You think you want my life, but you don't understand!" She stated desperately.

"I don't need to understand. I just need you to die!" She lunged forward just as she finished speaking.

Moira jumped back and her rear grazed the banister. She lifted her hands defensively as Hazel lifted the blade to strike again. The blade struck her raised forearm. Moira shrieked as she was pushed off balance by the blow.

Instinctively, her arm shot out in front of her. She grabbed Hazel's wrist, hoping to steady herself. She didn't know she was already too far over the railing. Both young women toppled from the parapet. Hazel shoved Moira away from her, even as death approached them.

Moira squeezed her eyes shut in panic. The wind whipped her wet hair around her head. She opened her eyes as her lungs ran out of air, silencing her scream. All she saw was the night sky rising quickly above her, and the shadow of her home.

Wait! I've never even been happy! It's too soon! She screamed silently to herself. A moment later, Moira came to an abrupt stop. She didn't feel any pain. Only the hardness of the ground rippled through her. Black nothingness swallowed her, making her one with death.

She expected to see her life flash before her eyes like the epic poems claim. She saw nothing. No memory of her childhood. She almost wished there were. Her father had died when she was two, it might have been nice to see him.

Her mother's remarriage to John Brinkley the year her father died was a key moment in her life. As was her sister's birth a year later, when she was three. In one moment she became unwanted, and in the other she lost the only value she held in her mother's eyes. Still, neither memory arose.

The poets and philosophers had been wrong about death. At least, they were wrong in Moira's case. Perhaps the darkness was a gift. A solitary place where she wasn't expected to relive her pain and struggles. Or perhaps, this simply wasn't the real end of her at all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Gasp*

Moira sat up, startled and in a panic. Heaving her breaths, she touched her hand to her chest. Her heart was beating quickly in her chest. She was alive, but how?

With fearful eyes she looked around her. She was laying on a familiar cot in a small, stone room. She stood in disbelief and approached the the mirror above her washbasin. In the polished, stained surface she saw herself.

However, her face was different. Her cheeks were a bit fuller than usual. Her auburn hair was longer and woven into a braid over her shoulder. Moira touched her face to make sure she was seeing herself properly.

A moment later, she pinched her arm and hissed in pain. "It's not a dream." She mumbled, rubbing her now sore arm.

I've gone back, somehow. This is my room at John's estate. I haven't been back since I got married. Moira's thoughts only deepened her curiosity and uncertainty. How long ago was this?

The sound of raised voices beyond the door drew her attention. Moira stepped up to the door, peering through the crack. The conversation outside answered her questions, while somehow posing more.

"The agreements are already sent, Hazel!" Her mother stated sharply. "It's too late to change the engagements."

"I won't marry him, mother. He's a sickly, crippled soldier! I change my mind." Hazel whined.

"Your father says his family's wealth could sustain your line for generations. He's not just a soldier. He's a lieutenant colonel." She replied knowingly.

"But-"

"No more arguing!" Vivian snapped, before exhaling heavily. "You simply need to have children, and you'll solidify your position with the Cumberlanes."

Hazel replied, but it was muffled like she was mumbling.

"The lieutenant colonel has been looking for a bride for years. He's already too old to be good marriage material. He won't turn you away or be easily rid of you. You need see the advantage in attaching ourselves to the Cumberlanes. Any changes now would cost our family's reputation."

"Is that what matters? If Moira rejects the engagement to Evan, the marriage would fall to me. I'm the youngest." Hazel reasoned.

Today is the day the steward comes to finalize the arrangements with Hazel. She's been eagerly bragging about the engagement for days already, now she wants to change it? Why is it different than last time? Moira thought to herself.

She turned to the trunk at the foot of the bed. Inside were three dresses and a small stack of books. Moira pulled out the green dress and her only other under-dress. She changed quickly, knowing she didn't have long before she would be summoned.

None of her dresses were new or fancy. Still, the green had only one re-sewn seam. She had barely tied the back when a single knock feel on the door. A second later, it open. Hazel walked in and looked her over with a small, condescending grin.

"That dress won't help." She snickered. "You still look like a maid."

"Did you need something?" Moira asked, like she used to do.

"Turn down the engagement." Hazel demanded.

"Why should I?" She looked at her with a furrowed brow.

"He's a worthless farmer." She replied easily.

"Then why do you want him?" Moira asked.

Hazel looked at her strangely. Death had made her bolder, and her younger sister had yet to understand what had changed. She just knew something was different.

"I thought being a cripple meant James couldn't afford to disown me. How would he dare? He would never find a new bride! All I would have to do is have a child, and any man could give me one." Hazel sighed like explaining was tedious.

"He would know the truth. Why would he claim the child?" Moira raised an eyebrow at her.

"He should have had no choice. His sickly body will never produce an heir anyway." She shrugged.

"If you agree to Evan, what of your fiance?" She probed. "John would never let you cut off the Cumberlane family connections."

"You can have James. Evan will be the richest man in the county in a few years. He must become my husband." Hazel crossed her arms over her chest.

"In a few years...?" Moira stared at her with wide eyes.

Was Hazel reborn too? That's why she wants Evan. She thinks he's destined for success. No... It's impossible. Moira's thoughts were racing.

Hazel looked startled, like she had spoken without thought. "Don't worry about it! You just have to be a good girl and do what I say."

It's true. She was reborn, but she's wrong about Evan. If not for me, he would have bankrupted his family long ago. Moira stared at her for several moments, as if she was thinking over the proposed swap.

"Fine." She finally stated. "You want to marry into a family of gentlemen farmers... You can."

"You-" Hazel snapped angrily. "You'll see! I'll be the richest woman in the county."

"I'll be waiting to see it." Moira replied with a small smile.

If I turn down the engagement, Mother will be livid. Luckily, James sent for Hazel the next day. Otherwise, she might kill me herself. She silently pondered.

She raised her hand as if to slap her older sister for her impudence. Moira grabbed her wrist, much to Hazel's shock.

"I've never competed with you for anything. Mom loves you. John loves you. You've been given the best of everything. I have nothing." Moira tossed her arm away. "Why do you always have to fight me for things I don't even want?"

"I get the best of everything because I deserve it. I can't even stand to look at you! You're always so pathetic, but you act arrogant. Like you belong in this family, like you deserve to be my sister..." Hazel replied sharply. "I just hate you. I don't need a reason."

Moira knew her sister hated her. After all, she even killed her in their past life. However, it seemed that whatever animosity she had in the last life was even deeper now. She shook off the chill that rolled down her spine, to look into her sister's gaze seriously.

"I'm going to give you some advice. Firstly, you'll only succeed if you work for it. Nothing good is earned from the backs of others." Moira stated coldly. "Secondly; if you want my engagement, you'll leave now."

"Hold up your end, or you'll pay for it." She snapped in response.

Hazel huffed angrily, before turning on her heels to storm out of the room. She threw Moira a furious look over her shoulder, but her sister wasn't bothered. She had already righted one wrong in her life. Now, it seemed that the changes Moira could make were endless.