Old Customs

Published On: 10-02-2016 15:50

A lonely wooden cabin stood out of the pure white snow.
It was not any odd, old cabin. Many such cabins were scattered across this God-forsaken land, but this one was different. This one was mine.
Lumberjacking is a killer to your lower back. As the charcoal sky above me gathered menacing clouds and the lake before me turned a thick shade of oil, I decided I had cut enough wood for the day. Sweating in the icy north wind, I returned home early.
My mind journeyed to Majessa. My goddess of a wife. Her curvy figure, her alluring eyes, her tender touch; all calling me to her.
The noises travelling to my ears sent shivers down my aching spine and I froze on the spot. My next steps were difficult, harder than running in deep snow.
Majessa lay naked, tied up in a bundle of ecstasy with another man. And, not any man. My twin brother. It took them a while to escape their nirvana and pay attention to my presence.
Tears departed from Majessa’s honey eyes and guilt was born over her face. I could not bear to stare in her direction. My trembling eyes met those of my brother’s. There was nothing to be said. Our tribe had its own set of customs and we both knew what had to be done.
Soon, the outside world welcomed us. Us and our axes.
A battle to the death.
My rough hands were tight around the only friend I ever trusted. My axe slashed through the air and met my brother’s with a deafening thud. We both swung again… and again, colouring the snow below us crimson red.
Old customs may never die, yet one of us was about to.

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