1
X921 – Winter
The letter from the Capital of Prospérer came in the form of a courier.
It would be official; he would partake in the knight exam.
Finlay was beaming and was even more excited than his own son.
There would be a little farewell party, but he, being the recluse he was, barely had anyone to invite—if at all.
Trust that his family did look.
He had grown popular with the village girls over the years.
They'd camp outside their backyard and watch him train shirtless and all.
But having a bunch of hormonal teenage elf girls at a farewell party?
Yeah. That didn't seem like the right move.
So they just had a family dinner.
Finlay seems to get emotional when he's drunk—he shed a few tears and sang some old folk songs.
Izkeial didn't say much. There wasn't really a way to tell what that boy was thinking.
Was he excited to finally be a man and join the knights in Prospérer?
Or was he nervous?
As for gifts, Finlay gave him a pocket watch.
It wasn't fancy or anything, but it was pretty.
Karrie gave him a red ribbon necktie that Moria helped her make.
"Here... big... bigger brother, I um... made this with Miss Moria."
"Thank you, Karrie," he said gently.
Kyleigh got him a knife.
It was amicable and had his initials engraved in it.
"This is too much."
"No, don't worry. I've been putting money aside for a while for each of your coming-of-age parties, so don't worry."
"Thank you, Miss Kyleigh." He bowed.
"Oh... oh... no problem."
"Jeez, just accept what Mom got you," Simon spoke up.
"Ah. Guess you didn't get anything this year either, did you?" Izkeial said flatly.
"Why would I? All you probably would do is bury it or forget about it."
Eyes went to Simon, then to Izkeial, with question marks above their heads.
"What are you talking about? Izzy would never do something like that," his father said.
"Oh really? I saw him clear as day bury the doll Karrie made him! I've been holding my tongue, but he hasn't changed a bit since then, and I'm tired of him acting the way he does!" Simon stood up at the table.
"Calm down. If that's true, I'm sure he has a good explanation. Right, Izkeial?" Kyleigh looked to him.
"...."
"Izzy?" his father said.
His eyes went straight.
He clutched his hands.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Si. You must have misunderstood what you saw, but I never did such a thing. I keep all my gifts locked up tight in my safe."
"Tch. Liar."
"I'm not lying. You can check that spot you claimed I buried it in if you want. See if you find anything of value."
Simon was getting nowhere with this.
"You've become a real bastard, you know that."
Simon stood up and went into the backyard.
Ten minutes later
"What...? It's not here…?"
"Told you so. You have a very active imagination, little brother."
"Screw you, I know what I—"
Finlay cut him off.
"That's enough, Simon."
"Fine. So you moved it. Still doesn't take away the fact you would ruin something your little sister gave you."
He huffed and brushed past him.
Simon didn't like the way he treated them—especially Karrie.
She was just a child who didn't do anything wrong.
And to be treated the way she was, as just another person and not blood, made Simon annoyed.
And he was at his boiling point.
2
The day off Izekial's departure arrived
Kyleigh seemed off these past few days
She was in the kitchen washing the same dish as she exhaled wearily
"Something wrong, Miss Kyleigh?" Simon trotted up behind her
"Oh, nothing, dear. Just deep in thought! Thinking about all the things your brother might be up to or get to do as a knight," she smiled
"Oh, well, I say goodbye. "
Kyleigh blinked in surprise, "Eh, you shouldn't say that.
"Why not? It makes no difference whether he stays or leaves; he doesn't talk or interact with his own family and does his own thing most of the time. Whether he's here or not, it doesn't really make a difference," Simon said with his hands behind his head. He, of course, loved and cared for his brother. Still, resentment was slowly creeping up; he had seen what he did those years ago to the doll, and he never brought it up, but it made a pit in his stomach. It annoyed him beyond belief, the doll Karrie had made for home, which was thrown aside like it was nothing. He thought about confronting him before, but Simon knew himself and his brother enough ot know he'd worm his way out of it with his words. Izkieal was special that way; he was tough and intelligent, but a loner who barely spoke or interacted with his family, and now that he would be moving away, it felt as if nothing would truly change around here, and that was an odd feeling.
"I'm sure your brother will miss us very much," she said with a smile that didn't quite reach her ears.
"Sure, whatever, I'm sure he'll be sobbing over leaving his younger siblings."
"Si….:"
Karrie popped her head into the living room
"Is bigger brother really going away?" She said in a quiet tone
"Yeah, he, something he probably always wanted. "
"I'm sure it's not like that, Simon, he's seventeen now, he's found something that drives him, we should praise him instead of being upset he's gone'
Simon clicked his tongue.
"I-i never said I was upset! It's more of good riddance if anything, he doesn't eat with us anymore, or so anything family related anymore, it's not like he's even here. Plus, on his birthday, he"
He looked over to Karrie.
"I just don't get why you're defending him. He treats you and Karrie the worst out of me and my father. I've seen it myself, you two should be thinking it's for the best if he just left."
"---"
"That's how you really feel, little brother?"
"!!" Kyleigh's eyes drifted to the back door
Izkeial was soaked in sweat
"You bet it is, you're a big stupid jerk, a poor excuse for a big brother."
"Oh yeah? You sure you should say that to the one who used to read to you and teach you reading when father worked late?"
He slung his wooden sword over his shoulder.
"That was years ago, and you probably only did it cause Father asked, you haven't read a single word to Karrie or taught her anything, unlike me. Just admit it, you don't care about us, you're selfish and self-centered, and I bet you're glad you're going away."
"Boys, stop fighting. You should be proud of your brother, Si, and Izkeial. You shouldn't push him, he's twelve, he's gonna misinterpret things." She tried to calm the two brothers down.
"You are your mother's son after all, you're gonna leave just like she did." Simon gritted his teeth, clenching his fist
"Are you done with your little temper tantrum?" He tilted up his head
"That's it, I've had enough, let's have a duel, big brother, I'll give you a parting gift of kicking your ass."
"Big brother, bigger brother, please don't fight, mama is right, we should get along before bigger brother leaves."
But Simon already had his mind made up; the years of his brother acting the way he did brought him to his boiling point.
"Fine, but I'll give myself a handicap, don't wanna hurt you too badly,.. I won't use magic."
"Whatever makes you feel better, brother."
And so the final bout between the two brothers began
3
"Please stop this, it's going too far," Kyleigh pleaded.
The two brothers stood in the backyard, facing each other with wooden swords.
Karrie came back out of breath.
"Mama! The chief is busy—there's a bunch of adults in suits and armor in town. They look like they're from an army…"
"Them again? Why do they keep bothering us… and at a time like this… and Finlay's in town…"
"Handicap or not, you're not gonna win, Si."
"Shut up! I can see the future, you know? I see you crying for forgiveness—on your knees."
He pointed his sword at him.
"Hm. Cry for forgiveness, eh? Well… let's see if that future happens."
The wind brushed their hair as the two stared at each other.
Each brother was fighting for their own reasons—
One out of frustration and love for his little sister…
The other to show him his place.
Simon was the first to move.
He charged at him, kicking his feet off the ground and kicking up some grass.
He was like a wild animal; all of his built-up frustration came bubbling out.
Izekial parried him, and Simon stumbled.
"Gah—damn!"
He charged again.
He had no rhythm or beat to his movements.
All he wanted to do was show his big brother up.
"You're not taking me seriously, are you?"
He swung again.
"Why would I go seriously against a bratty child?"
Thwap!
Izkeial whacked the back of Simon's back with his sword.
Even holding back, it still stung like hell.
"Ahh!"
Simon traced his fingers along where he was hit.
"Damn it…"
It felt like he was whipped in the back.
"You've never got to learn the Tor Style… thought I'd show you before I go. A little brotherly lesson."
"Wow, big brother, this is the most I've heard you speak that long in years," Simon chuckled.
"---"
"Yeah, that sure shut you up."
Simon stood, using the sword as support, then readied his stance once more.
(I have to try harder. Focus more. There's gotta be an opening…)
He looked at Izekial's hands.
"That's it," he said to himself.
He charged once more.
"..."
Izkeial loosened his wrist, readying his Tor Style swing—flinging his wrist to parry him yet again.
"!!"
Simon aimed at his wrist instead of the body—and knocked the sword out of his hands.
His brother's sword went flying upwards.
He had deduced a weakness in Izekial's sword style.
Then, with his opening, he went to strike his neck.
"Got ya!"
Izkeial quickly reacted on instinct.
"Gahh!"
Simon was kneed in the stomach.
Then Izkeial grabbed him by the collar and spun around in a full three-sixty—
and threw him across the garden into some pots.
He wasn't sure himself if he was conscious.
He couldn't breathe—having the air knocked out of him.
Before he could even gain his bearings, Izkeial appeared and rushed to his side.
Not to check on him—
But to point a wooden sword at his neck.
"Yield?"
Each inhale came ragged and shallow.
But what hurt the most…
Wasn't the breathlessness—
It was his pride.
"Huff... huff…"
He swatted away the sword.
And went to grapple with him, but being twelve and his brother sixteen, there was no way he could overpower him.
Izkeial simply brought the hilt of his sword down—
Crack!
—hitting the back of his head, knocking him out.
When Simon woke up, Izkeial had already left for Prospérer.
The two brothers had left things… on bad terms.