Volume 1 - CH 2.5

“They probably made us walk all night to a faraway village on purpose. They wanted to tire us out so we’d let down our guard.”

The brothers were walking aimlessly through the fields. They had lost their horse, and they did not have a destination in mind. There were a lot of grass plains where no crops grew in southern Travachess. The soil was certainly arable, though there might be a lot of weeds, but the entire nation was swept up in the madness of politics and her people did not care enough to farm or cultivate the land.

“You think so?” Boris responded while nodding back.

He looked a bit gaunter than he had yesterday. As they had left Savanon Village, the gatekeeper had informed them that not only were there several other villages close by but that there was also a large city, Gwareh, in the neighborhood. This was what the brothers were discussing currently.

“So many people approach others with the intent of screwing them over,” Yevgnen said bitterly.

They were not making their way to another village. They had no money. Guildmaster Deraki had not given them the money he had promised before the mercenary guild had left. Likewise, Yevgnen and Boris had been too caught up in the fact that they had managed to recover Winterer that they had completely forgotten about the money. And the money Yevgnen had been carrying with him earlier had also been stolen by Yanika when she had stolen Winterer from him.

“They also never questioned why so many people were after us to begin with,” Boris replied. “They just killed twenty people without bothering to figure out who was in the right and who was in the wrong first. Actually, they might not even have killed them at all. But either way, the fact is that they wouldn’t have known whether or not there was a good reason why we were under attack.”

Yevgnen patted his little brother’s head and made a mess of his hair like he had always done back at home.

“You’re a lot smarter than me, Boris.”

It was long past dinnertime, but they had nothing to eat. They had bought a piece of bread with the last silver coin that Yevgnen had managed to find in his pocket before leaving the village, but they had already eaten it for breakfast and lunch. They really had nothing left now.

Boris had never been this hungry before in his life. But he was more worried about his brother’s mood than he was about his aching stomach. There was no way that his brother was okay with the fact that his little brother was hungry. Boris wanted to tell Yevgnen that he was okay, but he didn’t think that Yevgnen would believe him.

What was Yevgnen thinking about right now?

“Should we take a little break?”

Naturally, they would be camping out tonight. The brothers found a nice patch of grass near a big tree and sat down. They didn’t even have a single blanket to wrap themselves up with. Nor did they have any flint to start a fire with either, because all of their things had vanished alongside their horse. The two brothers stared out into the open fields in silence. It was dark, and the only thing they could see were the tips of the wet grasses shining beneath the moonlight, but they kept staring for a very long time nevertheless.

Boris didn’t remember falling asleep.

The first thing he remembered was a terrible nightmare. Someone’s cruel hands were strangling him. He couldn’t breathe. He struggled to break free, but to no avail. He squirmed and wriggled with everything he had until finally, he felt something by his feet. He kicked. Something got tangled up around his leg before he finally managed to push it away. It was only then that the hands around his throat finally loosened up.

Still unable to discern between dream and reality, Boris breathed in and out so hard that his throat hurt. His eyes were still closed. It was only after he felt the chilly breeze kissing his neck where the hands had been that he realized that he was actually awake.

Slowly, he opened his eyes.

It was dark. The day hadn’t started yet. Boris looked around, but nobody was there. Then, he looked down at his feet and saw something like cloth by his feet. He tugged at it slowly only to realize that it was Yevgnen’s armor. He had probably draped it over Boris after Boris had fallen asleep.

Boris combed through the darkness once again until he finally found his big brother. His brother was laying a short distance away. But there was something strange about him. Yevgnen was sprawled out over the ground, as if he had fallen over after someone had pushed him down. But Yevgnen had very good sleeping habits normally.

Boris leapt up to his feet. What if whoever had been trying to choke him earlier had done something to his brother first?

He walked over to his brother and brought his hand up to Yevgnen’s nose. Yevgnen’s breathing was ragged, but, thankfully, he was breathing. Boris grabbed Yevgnen’s hand to wake him up. But Yevgnen’s hand was oddly warm. Then, he brought his hand up to Yevgnen’s face. His brother’s cheeks and forehead were warm too. Had he caught a cold after giving his little brother his clothes while they were sleeping outside?

Boris brought over Yevgnen’s armor and brushed off the dirt. Then, he draped it over his brother and lied down next to Yevgnen so that his back was touching him. He hoped that this would be enough to warm his brother up.

Boris fell back asleep quickly. Perhaps he was simply worn out.

The brothers somehow managed to make their way to another village the next day. Yevgnen was holding Boris’ hand while looking this way and that as they walked the streets. He asked a few people if there was anywhere he could sell objects made of gold.

Yevgnen’s hand still felt warm to the touch. Maybe that was why his face looked haggard too. Boris asked him repeatedly if he was feeling sick, but Yevgnen continued to shake his head no in silence.

When his little brother’s questioning became persistent, Yevgnen forced a smile and said, “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

They made their way to the newly built house by the main road that people had pointed them to. It was so sparsely furnished that it almost looked empty. There was a ladder leading up to a hole in the ceiling, but the house didn’t seem to contain any rooms otherwise. The only person inside was a man who was dozing off on a chair next to a table that looked like it had originally been a wooden crate.

“How much can you give us for this?” Yevgnen asked him. He was pawning off his mother’s heirloom.

Boris was surprised by how little hesitation Yevgnen seemed to have as he handed the mirror over. It was something that Yevgnen had cherished dearly for a very long time. It had been difficult for him to get ahold of any keepsakes of his mother because their father had not taken kindly to the idea that his sons would lose themselves in her memory.

The man cracked one eye open to look at the mirror, and then he snapped out of his sleepiness and peered deeply into Yevgnen’s face. Then, he rubbed his eyes and pulled out a pouch of money that had been hidden inside the wooden crate. He began scrutinizing the sapphire on the mirror’s lid as soon as Yevgnen handed him the mirror.

The mirror was an antique. There were dark rivets on its ivory surface, making it look like it was made from mother-of-pearl, and there was a deep blue sapphire embedded in it. Etched onto the inside of the mirror’s cover was Yevgnen’s mother’s initials—Y. J.

“This isn’t half bad. I can give you three hundred elso for it. How’s that sound?”

Yevgnen knew for a fact that the mirror as worth far more, but he didn’t know how to negotiate. It took him a while before he finally managed to reply, “I… don’t think that’s enough.”

He had never bartered for anything before in his life. He had never even haggled down the price of something when he was the buyer. He couldn’t help but flush in shame. He couldn’t help that asking to raise the price of something he was trying to sell felt disgraceful.

The man snuck a glance at Yevgnen’s reddened face and shrugged.

“Don’t you know the difference between buying something new and buying something used, young man?” the man asked grumpily. Yevgnen had no idea how he was supposed to respond. The man continued, “You’d have to be a thief to ask for more than three hundred elso for a used good. I’m already giving you a good price, and that’s only because I live all the way out here in the middle of nowhere. Anywhere else, and you’d be lucky to get two hundred.”

When Yevgnen failed to reply, the man continued, “And only nobles use stuff like this. Maybe a tavern wench will decide to buy it from me, or maybe someone will buy it just so they can use the jewel for something else. Besides, stuff like this isn’t even popular anymore. The jewel alone might get you a hundred elso or so. You should consider yourself lucky that I’m willing to pay you more for the rest of the mirror.”

Yevgnen did not know how to refute the man’s logic. He looked down at Boris’ face before he finally lowered his head and said, “I’ll take it, then.”

“Brother…”

Before all this, Yevgnen would have refused to sell his mother’s heirloom for three thousand elso, which was nothing to say of a mere three hundred. Today, however, he handed the mirror over willingly. He kept his eyes glued on the mirror until the man had finished wrapping it up and putting it away.

The man even gave them a coin pouch on the house because Yevgnen had nothing to carry the three hundred elso in. He would have only needed to carry three coins in total if the man had paid him in gold 100-elso coins, but the man had only paid him in silver. Yevgnen stowed his coins away awkwardly before leaving the building.

Boris stared at his big brother’s profile, but he didn’t know what to say. He dithered. Yevgnen looked bitter, but Boris could plainly see the emotions he was trying to hide underneath.

Boris wanted to say something, but before he could, Yevgnen cheerfully said to him, “Well, we finally have money again! Shall we go and grab something to eat? I’ll buy you anything you want. Just say the word.”

Boris didn’t reply. Not only did he know that they only had three hundred elso, but he also understood painfully well what they’d had to sell in order to obtain that measly three hundred elso. How could he possibly respond?

It wasn’t that he wasn’t hungry. But his heart felt emptier than did his stomach. It was unbearable. Perhaps that was why he had asked Yevgnen the question that he had being doing his best to avoid asking.

“Brother… When is Father going to contact us?”

Yevgnen, who was doing his best to feign cheerfulness, flinched ever so slightly.

Even still, he promptly turned back to his little brother and replied, “Ah, well… Maybe it’s taking him a  while to get healed up? I guess he doesn’t want to reconvene with us after he’s all better.”

It sounded like Yevgnen had prepared his answer far in advance. Boris looked up at his brother, but he quickly brought his gaze back down. He had accidentally seen the moisture glistening in his big brother’s eyes.

“Okay…”

Boris was already looking down, so he pretended to nod back as he replied. Yevgnen resumed walking. His right had was clenched tightly around the coin pouch in his pocket.

They booked a room at the inn for the night.

Their pouch of silver coins had already shrunk noticeably after buying a proper lunch and dinner. Boris had wanted to tell Yevgnen that he would be fine with just dried bread and water, but he held back because he understood that Yevgnen wanted to give his little brother something good to eat.

The brothers fell asleep in their respective beds. Boris began having nightmares again. This time, he felt someone squeezing his chest while shaking him. He began coughing because he couldn’t breathe, and he woke up the moment that his head—which he had been shaking wildly—snapped back.

“Ahhh!” He couldn’t stop himself from screaming.

A black shadow was squeezing his chest. But Boris’ terror only lasted as long as his scream did. It was quickly replaced by astonishment once he realized who that shadow was. He knew those arms.

It was Yevgnen.

“B-Brother… Why…?”

Nothing he said seemed to be getting through. Yevgnen, whose face Boris couldn’t see very well because it was dark, threw his little brother down on top of the bed and planted his fist into Boris’ stomach. This was something that the normal Yevgnen would never do even if his life was in danger.

“Ugh…”

It hurt so much that Boris felt his consciousness beginning to fade in and out. He couldn’t even scream. He was utterly helpless, like a branch in the wind, as his big brother tossed him this way and that. His shock overpowered the physical pain.

Why is my brother doing this? Just why?

Boris couldn’t fight back even if he had wanted to. After all, he was only twelve. Yevgnen was shoving, grabbing, and hitting Boris as if he truly intended to murder his own little brother. Boris would have already been long dead if Yevgnen had been holding a dagger.

Did he lose his mind?

“Brother… Yevg…nen…”

Boris’ voice was as wispy as a mosquito’s. Yevgnen got up, but then he suddenly stopped in his tracks as if he’d spotted something. Then, in his terror, Boris remembered that Winterer was also there with them in the room.

“N-no!”

He had cried out not because he was desperate to live but rather because he frantically wanted to keep his brother from the shock that would surely come over him after he realized what he’d accidentally done. Boris was battered and bruised at this point, but he miraculously managed to jump up and grab his big brother in a bear hug.

Yevgnen was more than capable of prying Boris off and throwing him to a corner of the room if he wanted to. But the bloodlust that had been boiling inside him had abruptly extinguished just then. Boris let go when he felt Yevgnen falling slack. Then, Yevgnen staggered two steps over to his bed and collapsed on top of it unconscious.

Was he asleep? Boris climbed back up to his feet and carefully made his way over to his brother. Yevgnen’s condition was similar to the state that Boris had found him in last night too. Yevgnen’s face and hands were feverish, and he was breathing heavily.

Boris went back to his own bed. He was alarmed and agitated, he ached all over, and his heart wouldn’t stop pounding. Obviously, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep. Something terrible had just happened. Something so terrible that it had never come up even in his worst nightmares. His mind was in chaos. He had no idea how to process what had just happened.

Just what kind of secret was Yevgnen hiding from him?

Boris was only able to fall back asleep after dawn. Yevgnen was already up and ready to head out by the time he woke up again.

“What’s wrong? I tried waking you up so many times. Did you have a nightmare or something?” he asked as he sat by the edge of Boris’ bed and peered into his little brother’s face with worry in his eyes.

Boris didn’t know what to say. He felt his heart thump again as soon as he saw his brother’s face. He was so alarmed that he thought that his heart might jump right out of his chest. Then, Boris realized that he might be making a face and quickly tried to sit up. But he didn’t get very far before he groaned and collapsed back down onto his bed.

“Ugh…”

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Boris recalled the silhouette of his big brother he had seen last night as he watched the expression on Yevgnen’s face changing into apprehension. What expression had Yevgnen been wearing last night? Boris didn’t think that any of the faces that he’d ever seen Yevgnen making before would suit the way Yevgnen had been acting last night.

“I-it’s nothing. I… I fell off my bed in the middle of the night. That’s all.”

It was a lie that he had made up on the spot. It was only after he had spoken that he realized that he had no way of explaining all the bruises that were covering his body. Yevgnen looked flabbergasted.

“Geez, you’ve never fallen off your bed before. You must’ve been exhausted.”

Both brothers had good sleeping habits. Yevgnen helped Boris up. Boris’ neck and shoulders hurt—they felt like they were breaking apart—but he did his best not to let it show.

“Should we spend another night here?” Yevgnen asked. “You don’t look too well. Are you sure you aren’t sick or anything?”

“What… about you?” Boris managed to ask.

“Me?” Yevgnen nonchalantly spread his arms open for Boris to see and continued, “I’m as fit as a fiddle. You were asking yesterday too. Do I look sick to you?”

Or so Yevgnen said, but he looked even more haggard than he had yesterday. He really did look ill.

Boris pondered laboriously over what he should say to his brother as he got changed and followed Yevgnen down for a late breakfast. In the end, however, he wasn’t able to say anything. Something told him that he shouldn’t.

They ended up spending another night at the inn. Boris stayed awake in bed and listened to his brother fall asleep. He waited for a very long time, but he didn’t think that Yevgnen was actually sleeping. Then, Yevgnen got up. He walked around the room barefoot for some time before he started taking deep breaths and stretching out his arms and shoulders. It chilled Boris to the bone, though he didn’t quite know why. It took a little while longer before Boris realized that his brother didn’t intend to sleep at all.

A little longer, just a little longer… Boris tried to stave away sleep for as long as he could, but he eventually fell asleep. He woke up in the morning. It’d been a while since he’d woken up at a reasonable hour.

“Did you not sleep last night, Brother?” Boris asked in alarm when he saw Yevgnen sitting in his bed with bloodshot eyes.

Yevgnen smiled awkwardly and shook his head as he replied, “I did. I just woke up early.”

“You look tired.”

He looked more than tired. Yevgnen looked gaunt, as though he had been agonizing over something all night long.

“Anyway, we should get moving today.”

They left the village. They had tacitly agreed to make their way to where their Great Aunt Janine was, but neither of them knew whether they’d actually be able to make it there. Actually, they weren’t even certain that they were even going to see her to begin with. They were simply pressing onward, as if their only real goal was to start moving in any direction.

Yevgnen was unstable as he walked. Boris pondered for a long time before he finally decided to say something about it.

It was already lunchtime by the time he finally asked, “Father’s not coming to get us, is he?”

“Hm?”

Yevgnen’s response almost sounded apathetic, especially considering what Boris had just asked him. Boris looked up at his brother a moment later. It was only then that he realized that Yevgnen hadn’t understood a word he’d said.

Yevgnen was never like this. Right now, however, it was almost like he was in a blank daze. Like his mind was a thousand miles away.

“Oh…”

Yevgnen finally seemed to have understood what Boris had asked him. His eyes began swimming like he was dreaming. It took yet another long while before he finally answered.

“No… That’s not true…”

He sounded like he was replying only because he had to. His attitude now was a complete contrast to how earnestly he had been trying to persuade and deceive his little brother into believing otherwise previously.

Boris stopped walking.

“Be honest with me. I’ll be okay. What happened to Father? Did our uncle capture him?”

Yevgnen stopped too. He pressed against his brows as if he had a headache, and then he slowly sank down to his feet. Then, he buried his head in his knees and wrapped his arms around it.

“Just a minute…”

Summer was passing, and the sky was just as blue as it had been yesterday and the day before. It hadn’t rained since the war had ended. Maybe that was why Boris could recall the memories of that day so vividly, as if it had only been yesterday. The torches that had surrounded the manor, the terrifying summon, the strange monster he had seen as he had been sitting by the lake all alone, the way his brother had shouted… He could remember it all so vividly.

That was why it was so strange. He could remember everything else so clearly, but then his memories suddenly became a tangled mess after a certain point. He had tried to recall everything time and time again, but all that he could remember was that his father had gone to face his uncle at the swamp and that he had his brother had been standing back to back until, for some reason, his legs had given out from under him.

Just what on earth had happened?

A chill ran down his spine and refused to leave whenever he tried to brush off the fright he had felt in his memories… and the dreadful terror. He became so dizzy, like something might happen to his brain, whenever he tried to recall anything else.

Out of nowhere, Yevgnen looked up and said, “Come here and try holding it, Boris.”

Yevgnen was holding Winterer out to Boris. Boris was confused as he walked up to his big brother and took the sword.

Then, Yevgnen continued, “Draw it, and trying swinging it.”

“Right now?”

Boris was hesitant, but he took two steps back and drew the sword as he was told. It wasn’t easy. He somehow managed to pull the blade out of the scabbard, but he began tipping over as soon as he tried to extend his arms. The sword was still too heavy for him, even though Winterer was lighter than the average steel sword because it had been forged from a mysterious material.

“Not yet, huh…?”

Yevgnen climbed up to his feet and walked up to his little brother. He walked behind Boris and supported his arms from behind. Boris was finally able to remain upright while holding the sword once Yevgnen supported his arms like splints.

“Like this…” Yevgnen said as he gently wrapped his hands around Boris’ wrists and slowly swung the sword.

The resplendent blade that arced in the air like a rainbow, the sunlight glistening at the sword’s pointed tip, the brilliant light burning eternally into his memory…

The warm figure wrapped around him. My big brother.

Boris found himself mumbling something quietly before he knew it.

Don’t go. Please don’t go. Please don’t leave me here by myself.

“If only you were a bit bigger,” Boris heard his big brother whisper quietly. Boris wholeheartedly agreed. How nice would it be if he was old enough to actually be able to help his brother instead of being the powerless young child that he was now? If only he was seventeen—sixteen, even.

Winterer’s white blade slashed vainly through the empty air. Up, down, and to the side. Yevgnen, who was doing everything in his power to give his little brother as much as he possibly could, never took his eyes off the blinding white blade.

“Father won’t be coming. He’s gone to somewhere he can never return from. He’s been gone for a long time now. But I’m sure he’ll be fine since the butler’s there with him too. The butler will always be faithful to Father’s wishes even if we aren’t there with them.”

Boris listened quietly without saying anything in reply. He was certain he hadn’t known about this until now, but he didn’t feel much of anything in his heart. He felt like Yevgnen was merely confirming something that he had already known. He couldn’t help but wonder if he had already been expecting this.

No, perhaps he’d actually known all along. His father was dead, and his brother was in pain. Perhaps it was simply that something had devoured a portion of his memories and sunken into a silent oblivion. And, just as Boris decided to reclaim those memories one by one…

An image suddenly flared to life before his eyes.

Rumble…

It was thundering in his memories of the days gone by. The memories of his final moments in Jinneman territory, which he had been repressing, was suddenly revealed to him as though he was peering into them through a crystal ball.

He could see a pair of gigantic wings.

Yevgnen squeezed Boris’ hands when he felt the little brother’s arms beginning to shake. He was trying to hold his little brother in a warm embrace because he thought that Boris was shocked to hear about their father’s passing.

“Oh…”

The veil was drawn away, and his memories began opening up like a book.

He remembered a pair of reddish gray wings that reminded him of a curtain of fog spreading open wide. Their total wingspan was wider than five grown men were tall. But they weren’t beautiful. The wings looked ghastly, like patches of fleshy membrane with lumps here and there, and the ends were lined with hundreds of razor-sharp talons, like teeth.

He remembered a voice. It had sounded like someone was dragging a rake across an iron gate. It had seemed to piece not only his ears but also his heart, and it had made his skin and the inside of his nose sting.

Boris dropped Winterer. The sword penetrated the earth where the grasses were swaying side to side. Yevgnen pulled his little brother into a hug. Boris was burning up as he shivered.

“Boris, you…”

His nanny had called it a ghost. Indeed, it had been just that—something that should not have existed in this world, just like the partially-summoned krigal. Its wings had seemed to fade in and out of existence, and between those wings, had been its vivid eyes that glistened like flames… Oh, Boris was so glad that he hadn’t been able to take a proper look at the ghost because its wings had obscured his view.

“B-Brother… t-those… those… those wings…”

Yevgnen turned his little around so they were face to face. Then, he asked, “Did you remember?”

Everything else came back to Boris like a crashing wave now that he had started remembering.

Boris had encountered the ghost of Lake Emera, which he had always been terrified of, that night. His big brother had jumped forward, grabbed him, and pushed him back. Boris had lost his balance and fallen over because Yevgnen had pushed him too hard in the heat of the moment. He had looked back up only to see those ginormous wings folding around his brother. The talons at the ends of the ghost’s wings had been glistening like teeth hungry for blood…

Boris had tried to run. He had always thought that he would never do anything of the sort, but he had been so terrified that night. He saw himself trying to run away in his memories. He had run all the way to the lake before he knew it, only to find his father collapsed on the ground. Had his father left any last words for him?

Yes… He had. Run! Get away from here! his father had shouted. His voice had seemed to cut through the air.

Boris’ memories flickered out after that. He had probably passed out by then.

“Brother… What happened to you that night. What… happened?”

Boris was slowly realizing why his memories of that night were so fragmented. It was because he had witnessed something that he could never accept. Something that he’d never wanted had happened that night. Something that he’d always been afraid of. He was a coward, so his fragile mind had instinctively tried not to remember the truth.

Yevgnen did not answer him.

It was cold that night.

The brothers were sitting opposite of each other as they stared at the flickering flames. They were still in the same exact place where they had stopped earlier during the day. They no longer felt the need to keep traveling. They no longer cared about where they ended up.

“You should get some sleep,” Boris said to his brother.

But Yevgnen shook his head no and turned his gaze back to the campfire. He had started its flames using the coins he had obtained by selling his mother’s keepsake.

After a long while, Yevgnen abruptly said, “Resume travelling by yourself after you wake up tomorrow morning, Boris. We should part ways tonight.”

Those words sent more chills down Boris’ spine than anything else he had learned or remembered today.

“I don’t wanna,” he quickly shot back while shaking his head furiously.

“It’s not about what you want,” Yevgnen replied. “I can’t stay with you anymore. I… don’t have much time left.”

Boris stared across the fire and directly back at his big brother’s eyes as he shook his head once again. He shook his head no with everything he had.

“I don’t want to. I’m going to stay with you until the bitter end.”

Sorrow filled Yevgnen’s eyes. He prodded at the campfire with the long branch he was holding as he quietly replied, “Even if I might end up killing you the next time I have a fit?”

The ghost of Lake Emera.

Yevgnen had told Boris that the ghost had killed their Aunt Yeni. Boris didn’t remember his aunt. The only thing he knew about her was that she had used to live in the manor with them.

Aunt Yeni had a room in the manor, and it was always kept clean, just like their mother’s room. Boris had snuck into her room once. There, he had found an unfinished painting left behind in the small sitting room that was attached to the bedroom. It was a painting of a young man. Boris had been too young at the time to be able to tell how good it was. The man, who had been left behind in a dead woman’s room, had been nothing more than an outline of a face and an elegant chin.

“Aunt Yeni was really kind. She was a good person. She used to give me a lot of cookies. Mother used to hide the cookies, but Aunt Yeni would always find them and give them to me if I grabbed her skirt and gave her puppy eyes. She was so tender-hearted that she could never tell anyone no. I cried and clung to her so much when I heard that she would be leaving the manor soon to get married that she locked herself in her chambers and refused to come out. She was afraid that she’d end up turning down her marriage if she saw me crying.”

Vlado, their uncle, had pulled a prank on her and told her that her betrothed had gone to Lake Emera. Aunt Yeni had believed him and had actually gone to find her fiancé even though she had always been terrified of the lake. Her fiancé had actually been locked in the manor basement the entire time. Not a single hair on his head had been harmed.

When could the people of Travachess finally stop fighting? Was it only after their bloodlines were ended, the hearts of their loved ones were soiled, and the curtains had fallen over a bloody conclusion?

“It was already too late by the time someone found her. But they didn’t find our beloved Aunt Yeni. The person they found by the lake was a raving madwoman who had ripped off all her clothes. I remember it… Mother immediately locked me in my chambers and didn’t let me out when Father and his men came back after finding her. I was so worried and curious that I couldn’t stand it. I loved Aunt Yeni very much, you see. I was worried that she’d gotten hurt after going to the scary lake all by herself, and I was scared that she might have died. That’s why I pushed Mother away and went outside. Mother chased after me, of course… but she was too late. I’d already seen everything.”

It had taken three soldiers just to hold Aunt Yeni down. Her clothes had been in tatters, revealing the naked figure of the maiden inside, and there had been streaks of blood in her disheveled hair. She had looked terrifying. Yevgnen’s aunt had not been able to recognize any of her family, which of course included Yevgnen himself. She had simply continued shrieking undecipherably, as though she saw everyone around her as her enemy. It had sounded nothing like the gentle tones that his aunt normally spoke with. Her shrieks had reminded him only of a mindless beast.

“Father and Uncle fought bitterly that day. It was pretty scary. I don’t think Uncle Vlado realized that this would ever happen to Aunt Yeni even in his wildest dreams. He was probably only planning for his men to kidnap her once she was alone. Father wasn’t exactly pleased that Aunt Yeni was marrying into another political party either, and that’s probably why he didn’t do anything about the fact that her betrothed was locked up in the basement. He probably never even imagined that Uncle Vlado had sent her to Lake Emera. Either way, Uncle Vlado became a criminal, and his position within the house became weak. Father sounded so calm when he said that the only cure for the madness incurred by being attacked by the ghost of Lake Emera was death.”

House Jinneman’s past was being laid out before Boris’ eyes. It solidified into his reality. He felt so insanely frustrated as he learned about a truth that he could not possibly accept.

Their father had been the true lord of the house by then. Neither their grandmother, who had tried to stop her eldest son in tears, nor their grandfather, who had stepped outside because he could not bear to watch, had been able to stop him. Their father had killed Aunt Yeni. It didn’t matter if he hadn’t actually committed the act with his own hands, but Yevgnen knew his father. His father wasn’t the kind of person who would have left it to someone else to end Aunt Yeni’s life.

Everything had become nothing more than a bad nightmare after the years had passed. But now, it had become his reality once more. The only reason why his own madness had laid dormant for a bit instead of manifesting immediately was because he hadn’t been as badly wounded as Aunt Yeni had been.

Despite everything, he had tried his best to cling to hope at first. He hadn’t been injured as badly, so maybe he would be okay. Or, at the very least, maybe the madness would stay dormant until Boris was old enough to survive on his own. He would have offered anything if only he could have at least that much. He would have willingly suffered even the worst humiliation if only he could have that.

But reality was cruel, and it refused to budge for him.

“I… I don’t care,” Boris finally said. He had finished organizing the long story that his brother had told him this afternoon. “I know what you’re thinking right now. But you should know better. Do you really think I’ll be able to survive for much longer without you? I remember everything that’s happened because of Winterer just over these last couple of days. I’d rather stay with you until the bitter end. I’d rather that you just kill me with your own—”

“Boris!”

It had happened in but an instant. Yevgnen had jumped up and slapped Boris across the face.

“Did you already forget what I told you when we left that warehouse to find Winterer?” Yevgnen continued. “Did you forget already? What did I tell you? Tell me what I told you!”

Yevgnen had never grown this angry at Boris before, but Boris understood where his anger was coming from.

“You told me… to survive…”

Yevgnen was not like his father. He was not the kind of person who was capable of killing his own younger sibling, even if they had lost their mind. Yevgnen was the kind of person who would struggle to survive until the people he cherished could keep living, and he was the kind of person who would do everything in his power to find even a fistful of happiness if he could and give it to the people he loved. If Yevgnen had been in his father’s shoes, then he would have waited until the bitter end for his little sister to come back to her senses even if it meant having to lock her up in the meanwhile. Even if it meant he had to look after her until his dying breath.

“Don’t you dare saying anything about wanting to die ever again,” Yevgnen said through clenched teeth as he did his best to reign his emotions in. “Your life is going to be different from mine. Don’t follow anyone’s lead but your own. Don’t lend your ears to other people’s circumstances. Don’t lend your ears to the words of others’ at all. They’ll only make you weak.”

Boris nodded back before he truly understood what Yevgnen was saying.

Yevgnen continued, “You need to be really strong… once I’m gone. You won’t have anyone to act as your shield anymore. You won’t have the time to stop under a shade to rest. Don’t trust anyone, and don’t ever let your guard down in front of people. It’ll be hard, but… I’m sure it’ll all be worth it in the end because it means that you’ll survive. You need to survive until you’ve finally managed to uncover all the infinite possibilities there are in your life.”

Once he was done talking, Yevgnen pulled away and sat down somewhere far away from Boris. Then, he hung his head. Boris realized that Yevgnen was sad that everything he’d just said to his little brother no longer applied to himself. This, was the third thing that Boris would always remember whenever he thought about his big brother.

Boris walked over to his brother and placed a hand on Yevgnen’s shoulder. The two of them stayed like that for a very long time.

Yevgnen did not sleep the next day, nor the next day after that.

His efforts were in vain, however. Yevgnen grew weaker by the day, and he started having fits even when he was awake. He had already made Boris hold onto Winterer. He had even told Boris that he could stab him with it if he had another fit as he handed it over. Boris had furiously shaken his head no, for Yevgnen’s sake. There was no way that he could ever bring himself to stab his own brother.

Eventually, Yevgnen realized that he was missing pieces of his memory. He could not remember anything that happened when the madness took over. He would wake up in the morning only to learn that it was already well into the afternoon, and he would start a campfire for the night only to suddenly realize that it was already dawn.

He was always grateful that his little brother wasn’t in his line of sight whenever there were any gaps in his memory. Boris had stopped sleeping with his big brother, and he would quickly go away whenever he sensed that something was wrong. He never went very far.

Yevgnen took off Snowguard and gave it to his little brother later that night.

“You keep it. I don’t need it anymore.”

“But it’s yours.”

Boris still refused to accept the fact that his brother was dying.

“What use does a dead man have for armor?” Yevgnen replied with a faint smile.

Then, he forced his little brother to wear the piece of armor that had the resplendence of snow and draped a coat over it. It seemed to make Yevgnen happy for the first time in a very long while. He was overjoyed by the mere fact that he had been able to give his little brother even one thing that could protect him.

Yevgnen began talking about something he didn’t usually talk about that night. He told Boris about their uncle.

“It’s technically true that Uncle Vlado murdered Father, if you split hairs. But it was actually the monsters in the lake and the red-eyed ghost that killed him. Maybe Father would have never let the monsters get the better of him if Uncle Vlado hadn’t injured him first. Maybe it would have been Uncle Vlado who died instead. But in any case, there’s an endless list of people you can point to if you’re trying to find someone to blame. Will you make me a promise, Boris?”

“What is it?”

“Don’t ever try to get revenge.”

Boris didn’t need to ask who he wasn’t supposed to get his revenge from. He opened his eyes wide in disbelief.

Yevgnen continued, “I can’t explain everything to you, but I… I hope that you, at the very least, will be able to escape from the complicated cycle of grudges that surround our house. They didn’t form in just the span of a couple years. Countless families have been torn apart throughout the years because of Travachess’ political problems. But things only persisted for so long because people never learned to let go. The cycle wouldn’t have continued for so long if even one side had let go or decided to forgive and forget.”

“But Father—”

“Father would never say this to you if he was alive,” Yevgnen interjected. “Sometimes, I’m really glad that you’re still so young. You still have so much more to live. You still have so much more to see and experience. So, forget everything that’s happened until now. Forgive it. You’ll get chained down to the never-ending cycle of revenge too if you don’t. Don’t pass down an inheritance of blood to your future children.”

Boris didn’t understand what Yevgnen was trying to tell him, but he knew that his brother was already suffering and did not want to go against him. The only thing he wanted was for his brother to get whatever was weighing him down off his chest.

Boris nodded back. Yevgnen made the boy promise him over and over again. Boris had not understood just how heavy it was to make a promise to a dying man at the time.

Yevgnen did his best not to fall asleep that night too. He had already tried to hurt his little brother during his first fit, which had happened while he was sleeping. How much more damage would he cause if he fell asleep and had another fit now? He was so much weaker now than he had been a few days ago.

Boris had fallen asleep by the fire. Yevgnen watched over his little brother with bloodshot eyes as he did his best to stay conscious. But he hadn’t slept in four days. It wasn’t easy to keep himself awake. It had already taken superhuman effort just to stay awake for this long.

His consciousness was beginning to fade. He could no longer tell the difference between dreams and reality. He somehow managed to stay up for a good part of the not by continuously shaking himself awake, but he could barely recognize right from left anymore.

He heard a voice filtering into his ear. Was he dreaming? Was it real? In any case, the warm breath that tickled him felt good.

“It’s okay. Just go to sleep. You can rest. Just rest…”

Yevgnen had fallen asleep while reading on a hill under the warm spring sun once. The wind had been so refreshing… People had been smiling and waving at him in his dream. They had told him to come to them. He had woken up before he could. Boris had been tickling the tip of his nose with a leaf.

This was his recollection of that warm spring day.

It felt so comfortable. Like he was smugly inside a warm blanket. Like he was submerging deeper into warm waters. His heart seemed to melt away. And then, Yevgnen realized the truth. Painful reality could not touch him in his sleep.

He could tell, with sudden clarity, that his little brother had gone back to bed. His mind cleared up. He could plainly see what it was that he needed to do. There was just one thing left for him to do now. One last thing that he could do for this little brother’s sake.

It was time.

Boris saw something glowing through the fog of sleep. Someone was digging up the earth with nothing but a single sword. It was so bizarre that he figured he must surely be dreaming. His befuddled mind closed his eyes to the strange vision he was seeing.

Even though this would be the very last time that he…

It was already late into the morning by the time Boris finally realized that he had not, in fact, been dreaming last night. There was a pit in the ground—the very same pit that someone had been digging in his dream­—not too far away. It was much wider than he remembered. There was a small hill of dirt next to it.

The weather was nice. The skylarks were singing today. The sky was cloudless and as still as a lake, and there was a crisp chill in the air. The boy took a deep breath and surveyed his surroundings.

He didn’t see his brother anywhere… Or Winterer for that matter.

Boris jumped to his feet. Then, he stopped to think. His thoughts were cycling on repeat. It was time to face the facts now.

It hurt. He felt like a sharp and pointy needle was stabbing his heart, but there was nothing he could do to assuage the pain. He hurt, like an animal skewered on a spear, as he swallowed the emotions that threatened surge up from his throat. He couldn’t say a word. He could barely even breathe.

Boris forced himself to his feet and slowly walked over to the pit. His big brother was sleeping inside it with his eyes closed. He was resting, just as Boris had told him to. He had fallen into a deep slumber from which he would never wake. He looked so peaceful, as if he had fallen asleep while listening to a lullaby.

There was a gaping wound in the pit of Yevgnen’s stomach, right below his chest. Darkened blood had dried all around it. But the sword that had caused it was not attached to him. Winterer was lying by its lonesome off to one side of the pit.

It was not easy to stab yourself with a sword as long as Winterer. Boris felt like he could see it happening right before his very eyes. Yevgnen had propped the sword against the ground and thrown himself on top of it, and then he had used the very last dredges of his strength to pull sword out so his little brother wouldn’t see it. Yevgnen had likely been digging the pit all night long, and his fingers were split and bruised.

He had toiled so much so that the boy who survived him would not have to… And the boy he left behind almost resented him for that.

Why? Why? You weren’t even able to live your own life…

The boy sat, speechless, in front of the pit for a very, very long time. The breeze kissed his cheeks as the sun climbed high into the sky. Entire years seemed to pass him by in mere moments. The boy did not budge, as though he had been turned into stone.

He did not cry, either.

The sun reached its zenith and began to climb back down. It wasn’t long before it began painting beautiful colors in the western sky. A long breeze brushed over the fields and swept through the boy’s long hair. It touched the pallid young man in his twenties as well. That young man would stay young forever. He would never age again. The wind kissed his eyelids as it passed by.

Abruptly, Boris sprang into motion. He took off his coat, and then he proceeded to take off Snowguard, which he had been wearing underneath. Then, he climbed down into the pit. He hugged his brother’s corpse upright, and then he draped Snowguard over him. The boy was sweating profusely. The strenuous act took up all his strength. But he refused to give up. There seemed to be madness in his eyes as he struggled to put Snowguard back on his brother’s body.

Yet, there was also a quiet resolve seeped deep into his features. The likes of which that could never have belonged to a madman.

Eventually, he succeeded in his task. He could no longer see that gaping wound by the time he laid his brother back down. The white armor had become a white shroud.

The stars were embroidering the sky by the time his hoarse voice finally escaped his lips.

It’s time for bed now that the long day is over.

The shooting stars have returned to their Mommy star’s side.

Worry not and rest, for I am watching over you

So that none may wake you, my baby.

The boy climbed up to his feet and began pushing the hill of dirt into the pit. Dirt and pebbles poured down over the young man wearing white armor.

Even if the dark night frightens you, the morning will come soon.

Remember not the hardships of the world and shed not your tears

For I’ll give you a good night’s kiss and stay by your side.

The night will pass before you know it as you dream happy dreams.

Dirt was piled higher and higher on top of the face that he would never see again. The grave did not even have a marker. The fields were empty. The brothers had not seen a single soul during the days they had spent here.

The boy looked around. Instead of marking the grave, he chose etch everything he saw here deeply into his heart.

It was time to leave.

“Good night, my brother.”

It was the late into the night, but Boris did not delay. He was no longer a twelve-year-old boy in his heart as he walked away without ever looking back.

That night was the start of a long and moonless winter.