THE LAST KEEPER

Chapter 349: 349: THE SISTERS

Two little girls stood beside a waterfall, one was taller than the other, perhaps to show their age difference. White water thundered from the cliffs above and vanished into a dark pool below, filling the valley with mist and noise. They had been warned all their lives never to enter the water, though no one had ever explained why.

The elder sister always obeyed the warning and was satisfied.

"Rika? What do you think would happen if I jumped into the waterfall? I mean, I know how to swim," the little one said with excitement.

"Rina, you can’t. What if it does not have a bottom and you never return?" Rika said, holding Rina’s hand and pulling her back on instinct as if she was going to jump at any moment.

"But then we will never know. Perhaps it is shallow, and I will float right back." Rina insisted.

"If you keep saying such nonsense, I will tell Mom and Dad, and they will not allow you to come play here anymore," Rika threatened.

"Fine, fine. I am just playing. You know I am just playing," Rina said, but the sparkle in her eyes was clear. She was deeply thinking about whatever she was saying, and not even Rika was fully fooled. Every day they returned to the falls, and every day the younger drifted closer to the water while the elder watched from a safe distance. One was clearly cautious by nature, and the other carried the restlessness of a bird that hated cages.

Years passed, and the girls grew a little older. They were now young maidens of thirteen and fourteen seasons. Rina appeared even more untamable than before, and the growing distance in their relationship could be seen whenever Rika sat far from the waterfall weaving baskets or doing something useful. Rina, on the other hand, was always off fighting boys or getting into trouble. It often seemed that the only reason Rika came near the water at all was to make sure her sister did not jump to her death.

One evening, with the sun painting the mist gold, the younger sister stood upon a rock hanging over the pool.

"Don’t," Rika warned. She had only looked away for a moment, and the next thing she saw was Rina standing upon the sharpest rock where a single jump would carry her into the forbidden part of the waterfall.

Rina smiled.

"I’ve always wondered what it feels like."

Then she jumped.

The waterfall swallowed her instantly.

The elder rushed to the edge and waited. Fear slowly gave way to terror as the pool remained empty. For the first time, she imagined a world without her sister in it. Yes, the girl was feral, but that did not mean she wanted her dead.

Minutes passed.

Then more.

Rika panicked.

She wanted to jump in after her sister, but she was a coward. She had always known she was a coward. Even now, as she stood on the edge of the waterfall, her legs refused to move. Her sister could be dying, yet she could not bring herself to leap. She hated her weakness, but she could not take a step.

Then the surface broke suddenly and the younger emerged laughing, her hair plastered to her face, delighted by her adventure. She climbed from the water still smiling, only for that smile to fade when she saw her sister’s expression. Relief, anger, fear, and love all battled within it at once.

Rika told their parents everything the moment they returned home, and Rina was promptly forbidden from ever returning to the waterfall. For a while, Rika believed the punishment would finally tame her sister, but Rina only seemed to grow wilder with age. As the seasons passed and the girls became young women, Rina’s reckless adventures only multiplied.

She climbed cliffs, disappeared into forests, challenged older boys to fights and races, and returned home with stories that spread through the village like fire through dry grass. Somehow, she always survived. People laughed at her antics, admired her courage, worried over her safety, and spoke her name constantly. She was not acting as a young maiden at all or following the rules of society, yet somehow she always found favor in people’s eyes. Rika had always carried herself with dignity and could even be called the fairest maiden in the village, yet she found herself walking in the shadow of her feral, uncultured sister.

At first, Rika paid little attention, but slowly she began noticing things she wished she had not. Whenever Rina vanished, their mother could not sleep. Whenever she returned, their father would scold her before embracing her. The villagers praised her spirit, forgave her mistakes, and made her the center of every conversation. Meanwhile, Rika did everything she was supposed to do. She worked, obeyed, helped, listened, and remained dependable, yet her efforts passed unnoticed because she never caused enough trouble to demand attention.

At first, the feeling was small, a passing sting she quickly buried. Then it returned more often. With every story told about Rina, every laugh shared at her expense, every worried glance their parents reserved for their troublesome daughter, something dark began taking root inside Rika. She told herself she was merely annoyed. Then she convinced herself she was simply tired.

But bitterness is patient. It grows quietly beneath the surface until it becomes impossible to ignore. One day, Rika realized she no longer smiled when Rina entered a room. Her laughter irritated her. Her successes angered her. Her very existence felt like a shadow cast over Rika’s own life. And by the time she understood what had happened, the bitterness had already become something far uglier. Without meaning to, without even noticing when it began, Rika had started to hate the sister she had once been terrified of losing.

She once even wished she had let her die in that waterfall. The thought should have scared her, but she entertained it.

Her breaking point came when the Choosing happened. She had been filled with rage when the most esteemed boy of their generation proposed a betrothal to Rina, but the Choosing... the Choosing was something she would never forget.

Rina was not worthy of the Choosing.