Ethan and Theo finally reached the stream, the sound of rushing water greeted them, crisp and alive. Fish darted beneath the surface, silver flashes catching the light. Theo's eyes widened in awe. "Look! They're jumping!" he shouted, nearly tumbling into the water in excitement.
Ethan caught his arm. "Easy," he chuckled, shaking his head. "You'll scare them off before we can catch any."
They sat at the bank, and Ethan leaned down to splash water on his face. It was cold, refreshing, cutting through the sweat clinging to his skin. Theo knelt beside him, cupping his hands to drink greedily.
Later, as they worked to set up camp nearby, Ethan struggled. He tried to strip bark for rope, his hands slipping. He attempted to fashion a shelter from branches, only for one to collapse on his shoulder.
"Damn it," he muttered, rubbing his arm. "I need something sharper, something to cut with." His eyes shifted to Theo. "What've you got in that pack of yours?"
Theo shrugged and pulled it open again, revealing flint, twine, an old pocketknife, and several folded rags.
Ethan stared. "…You've had these things this whole time?"
Theo blinked. "Yeah?"
Ethan laughed full, genuine, and warm. "Kid, you just saved us a bunch of time."
Together they worked, Theo handing tools, Ethan using them with skilled hands. A shed-like lean-to rose from branches and leaves, reinforced with rope. Flat stones made a fire circle. Poles carved from saplings became makeshift rods, sharpened at the tips. Every detail came alive: knots tied tightly, branches angled to keep out the wind, a bed of moss laid for rest. By the time the sun dipped low, their camp looked less like desperation and more like survival.
As twilight deepened, they sat by the fire, warmth brushing their faces. Theo's voice broke the silence. "My grandfather used to tell me stories. Once he said fairies led him out of the forest when he was my age. He swore they guided him—tiny lights in the dark, whispering through the trees. That's why I think… maybe there are magical creatures out here. Watching."
Ethan listened, gaze drifting to the flames. "Fairies, huh?" He didn't laugh or dismiss it. Instead, he whispered, "What if?"
Theo beamed, satisfied that Ethan didn't doubt him.
After a pause, Theo tilted his head. "Tell me a story now."
Ethan hesitated, choosing carefully. His voice softened. "I have a brother. Older than me. When we were boys, people said we look alike. I didn't see it, but… others did. He was stronger, louder, always the first to fight for what he wanted. I… I was quieter. And sometimes, that made me invisible in my own family."
Ethan's voice grew distant, his eyes fixed not on Theo but on some place far beyond the trees.
"One day, we argued. I don't even remember what it was about, something small, stupid. I was maybe eleven, he was thirteen. I shouted at him, he shouted back, and it ended with fists. We rolled in the dirt, both of us scraped up, angrier than we should've been. I thought… maybe I hated him then."
Ethan paused, drawing a slow breath before continuing.
"Not long after, some older boys came around. They'd been watching us fight, I guess. They knew me as the quiet one, the easy target and on a daily they would call me names and provoke me. I can't remember the exact details but they started in on me shoving, calling me names. And before I could even stand up, my brother was on them."
His lips curved in the faintest shadow of a smile.
"He didn't hesitate. Three of them, bigger than us both, and he still threw himself in like he'd take them all apart with his bare hands if he had to. And he did it for me. Even after the bruises we gave each other, even after all that anger… he chose me. Every time, he chose me."
Ethan's voice softened even more, low but steady.
Theo listened wide-eyed, resting his chin in his hands.
"I think that was the first time I understood him. He wasn't just loud and reckless he carried a weight I didn't. He fought because he believed no one else would protect us if he didn't. He was my shield, even when I thought I didn't need one."
...zZzZ
Silence lingered between them, only broken by the distant sound of wind threading through the trees. Ethan let out a quiet breath, his eyes lowering.
"But," Ethan continued, "my brother no matter how rough he could be he never let me feel completely alone. When storms came, he'd stand by me. Even when we argued, I knew he'd protect me if it came to it. That's what family is meant to be, I think. Not perfect. But there."
.....
The fire crackled, filling the silence that followed.
Ethan leaned back, soaking in the stillness. It was quiet and peaceful so much so that when he finally glanced at Theo, the boy was already asleep, curled near the fire with the faintest smile on his lips.
"The end and goodnight" Ethan Whispered.
The sun had already sunk behind the tree line by the time the search party trudged back into the village square. Their boots were heavy with mud, their shoulders sagging with fatigue and something heavier still....failure. Lanterns glowed faintly from doorways, the square buzzing with restless villagers who had gathered, waiting for word.
Theo's mother was the first to rush forward, eyes wide, clutching her shawl so tightly it seemed she might tear it. "Did you find him? Please, tell me you found Theo"
The Head of the group, Elias, shook his head grimly. "No sign of the boy. We covered the northern ridge and the old paths by the stream. Nothing."
The words dropped like stones into the crowd. Murmurs rippled through them, doubt and fear mingling.
"You mean to say you scoured all that land and didn't see a trace?" one man barked.
"Maybe you weren't looking hard enough," another accused, glaring at Elias.
"We did what we could," Elias snapped, his patience fraying. "It's dark. Another hour in those woods and we'd risk more than just one life lost."
Theo's mother's voice cracked as she spoke. "I told you he's out there. Alone or maybe with Ethan but my son is out there!" Tears streaked down her face, and she clutched at her skirts. "Why didn't you push further? Why stop now?"
Jonas stepped forward, jaw set, trying to sound reassuring. "We'll head back out first light. No one's giving up on the boy."
"What about Ethan" someone exclaimed "Are you going to try just as hard to find Ethan, we know you two have history and that may cloud your judgement".
"You shouldn't go tomorrow Jonas!" another exclaimed.
Jonas clenched his jaw, trying to seize control. "Then where is he? If Ethan went after him, where's the proof? For all we know, he's gone deeper into the woods and left the boy behind."
"That's not fair," Elias muttered, but Jonas pressed on.
"You all know what he's been accused of. Why trust his word? Why trust him?"
Hushed voices rose again, some in doubt, others in defense. The square fractured into tense arguments, and the weight of the night pressed down on everyone like a shroud.
Hana had stood on the edge of the crowd, saying nothing as accusations and defenses flared like sparks. When the search party dispersed at last, she turned quietly, Mira following at her side.
They walked the dirt path toward Hana's shop, their footsteps crunching in the stillness. Neither spoke at first the air too heavy, the silence too raw. It was Mira who finally broke it.
"They're scared," she said softly. "That's why they lash out. Fear makes people cruel."
Hana hugged her shawl closer, her voice low. "I can't stop thinking about Ethan. He went after Theo without hesitation, and still they speak of him like.....like he's a curse on this place." Her throat tightened, her eyes burning. "Maybe I should've said something. Maybe I should've defended him."
Mira glanced at her, brows furrowing. "You've carried enough, Hana. You can't fight the whole village on your own."
"But I did nothing," Hana whispered. "Nothing when he was being torn apart by gossip. Nothing when he walked into that storm alone. What if he doesn't come back?"
Mira slowed, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "You cared for him when it mattered. Don't twist that into guilt. You're not responsible for their blindness."
Hana stopped walking, turning her face away. "And yet I feel it regret, like it's carved into me. Every choice I made, every silence I kept… it feels like I failed him."
They stood in the dusk, the faint glow of Hana's shop just ahead. Mira's voice softened. "Then maybe now is the time to be different. To speak. To choose differently."
They reached the door, the air between them heavy with words unsaid. Hana unlocked it, the familiar creak of the hinges breaking the night's hush. Inside, the shop was dim and quiet, the faint smell of herbs lingering.
They sat for a moment, still speaking in low voices.
"What if Theo is never found?" Hana murmured. "What if Ethan…" She trailed off, unable to finish.
"Don't," Mira said sharply, shaking her head. "Don't bury him before you know the truth."
Hana pressed her lips together, her eyes wet. "But what if the village is right? What if..."
A sudden knock rattled the door. Both women stiffened, exchanging startled glances.
Mira rose, cautious, and moved to the door. She opened it slowly. A tall man stood in the doorway, travel-worn, his clothes dusted from the road. His gaze was searching, sharp yet weary.
"Evening," he said, voice low but steady. "I'm sorry to intrude. I've been traveling a long while, looking for someone."
Mira hesitated, but stepped aside politely. "Come in."
The man entered, nodding in thanks, his eyes scanning the modest shop before settling back on the two women.
"May I ask," he began, voice carrying the weight of distance and purpose, "have you heard of a man named Ethan?"
Hana's breath caught, Mira's eyes narrowing in shock.
"Yes," Hana said slowly, her heart pounding. "Why do you ask?"
The man's expression tightened, and he drew a breath that seemed to steady him.
"Because," he said, voice low but resolute, "I'm looking for my brother. Ethan."