Isaac's senses slowly returned to him. He was lying flat on top of a firm surface, his head resting on something soft.

  Where was he? What had happened? Where was his armour? He had been...

  He sprang awake, a gasp on his lips, as his eyes scanned for approaching enemies.

  All he found was a camp, with Azure Guards milling about, huddling in small groups around meals being cooked on mana burners. Some were crying, others were giving their support, most were sharing stories.

  He looked up and found a ceiling. Around him were old crates that had been shoved into piles, used as backrests or chairs by the guards.

  A voice spoke up, right next to him. “We're in the storage room, in the central spire. The main door is closed. We're safe.”

  Isaac spun his head around, his sight landing on his exiled brother, David, sitting cross-legged next to him, back against a crate. He had a sad smile on his face, but his eyes cast a warm gaze.

  He spoke again, his tone hesitant. “Isaac, I'm... I'm glad you're ok.”

  The younger brother stared, his mind still attempting to put the pieces back together. David said nothing else, waiting.

  Isaac turned his head back toward the camp, mentally counting the guards he could see. Out of the 80 men and women he had brought down here with him, he counted about 50. Heavy losses, but not a disaster...

  His face scrunched up. It should have been a disaster. They had gotten swarmed by the Fels. They were all going to die. He...

  Unbidden, one of his hands reached for his chest, rubbing the spot where he had been pierced by the bone spines. One of them had been right where his heart stood.

  Eyes widening, he looked down to confirm what his finger felt: smooth, unblemished skin. Not a single scar.

  “...How?” The word escaped his lips.

  “My girlfriend's potions are pretty potent.” David gave as an explanation.

  “...Potent? Potent means a healing potion that will close up open wounds within a few minutes. This is... impossible.” Isaac said, looking up at David.

  His brother shrugged, as if a potion that denied death its due was as mundane as breakfast tea.

  But that hadn't been all! Isaac narrowed his eyes. “What about the Fels? Who fought them back? How did the other camps get back to us? Are there any wounded? I need to confer with my troops, form a plan of attack to clear out this infestation. This can't be le-” He began getting up, only for his brother's hand to stop his rise, gently pushing him back down.

  He fought the motion, but David's hand was as unmovable as a boulder pressing on him.

  Lying back down, he sent his brother a glare alongside an unspoken question.

  David shook his head. “Rest, for now. Everybody that could be saved has been, and the only wounded are the ones whose limbs we didn't find, but even they are as healthy as they can.”

  Under Isaac's continued glare, David sighed. “The infestation isn't going anywhere. As for the other camps, my companions and I escorted them back here.”

  The younger brother narrowed his eyes. “How? Weren't there Fels in the way?”

  David looked elsewhere, “...there were.”

  “And?!” Isaac demanded.

  “...I fought them off.”

  The Wardenfel heir stared at his brother, a lump of burning coal in his chest. When he finally found words, they dripped with molten slag. “You fought them off. You!? How am I supposed to be-”

  “He did, Isaac.” A deep, rumbling voice interrupted him. Leandro's.

  His eyes spun toward the retired knight. “How!? He's a reject! A failure! Did...” Dots connected within his mind. “You've been training him! That's why you came to this town!” He accused the large man.

  Leandro dipped his head. “I did, but get that thought out of your head. What David did is far beyond what I taught him as an Azure Guard.”

  “What does that mean?!”

  The veteran's eyes hardened. “It means, as incomplete as his training is, David is already far beyond what any guard could ever achieve.”

  Eyes of boiling ice spun toward David, attempting to find a weakness, anything, to peel away the lies he was being told.

  But he found none. He got up, swatting David's hand aside, and marched back to his troops.

  His brother watched him go, shoulder slumping, before looking at Leandro.

  “What did I do wrong?” He asked.

  The veteran turned his head toward Isaac, observing him for a few moments before answering. “Nothing. This fight only has one participant, and it is not you.”

  He didn't like those words, but they rang true.

  David sighed. There were eight years of absence to mend. Hoping a single night would be enough had been foolish.

  His troops all told the same maddening story. His brother flying in with guards, unleashing a giant sword of light that carved up the Fels in a single strike, while a catkin saint followed in his wake, dispensing potions that brought the dead back.

  Isaac just... couldn't wrap his mind around it. The strings were too short, and no matter how much he pulled, he couldn't tie them together. He understood the truth. He just couldn't accept it.

  And yet, what else could he do? They all said the same, and the results were there.

  His reject brother, who had run away from his duties, had saved them all.

  Including himself. The younger one. The one who always had to run himself ragged just to not be left behind. The one who didn't even have enough mana to receive a single imbuement. The second choice, of his parents, and of his... sister.

  Annabelle. Murdered by the one she loved most.

  The fire inside his chest hurt, coiling fiery tendrils around his heart and squeezing.

  He needed... something. He had to make sense of it all. He needed answers.

  His eyes darted around the camp until they latched onto someone.

  A small catkin near the back of the camp, sorting potions over a cargo cloth. Alone.

  David's woman.

  She would have answers.

  He cut a straight line toward her.

  She didn't notice his arrival, her attention on taking inventory of her stock of potions.

  Only when she noticed his shadow over her did she turn her head, flinching as she saw him towering over her.

  Her ears flattened. “Hum... hi?”

  “You. Your name?”

  “N-Niala, huh, my lord?” She offered.

  “Niala.” He said, advancing a step closer. “I need you to tell me about David.”

  The tip of her tail swished, as she seemed to regain her composure, sustaining his stare. “...What do you want to know?”

  Isaac narrowed his eyes. “Start with the sword. My troops all said he had a magical sword. What is it? Where did he find it?”

  He saw a flash of fear in her eyes. “It's, huh, Heartsong. We... He made it during a fight with a gr- with a Fel.”

  “He made it? Explain.” He ground out.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  “I... he pushed his mana out into the shape of a sword, and it just... kind of happened? You'd need to ask him. My Lord.” She babbled.

  The fire around his heart seared.

  “That is NOT an answer, woman!”

  “I'm really sorry, but it's all I know. I'm sure David would-”

  “Do not-... Fine. What about his mana reserves? I've been told he kept his imbuements active, without end, since the start of the night. How is that possible?” Isaac demanded.

  “He... you really should be asking h-”

  “I asked you! Answer!” Isaac took another step, now an arm's length away from the kneeling catkin.

  Niala flinched, squinting her eyelids, but keeping her sight squared against the noble's. “He just has a lot of Mana. Like, a lot a lot. The fai- when he was measured, they said he'd poured trillions of manawatts out. Leandro said he'd never even heard of something like it.” She said.

  As she spoke, his glare turned piercing. For a moment, he looked as if he was about to slap her.

  Instead, he snapped his hand forward, grabbing Niala's collar and pulling her toward him. He lowered his face close to hers.

  “Stop with the stories. Start. Making. Sense.” He growled.

  She opened her mouth to reply, but David's voice rang out.

  His words cut the air apart. “Let go of her.”

  Isaac spun his head toward him, but kept his grip on Niala. “You do not command me, brother.” He warned.

  David triggered his imbuements. All of them. The excess mana flared blue, reaching the ceiling, lighting the whole room. All heads and ears turned their way.

  “I said, let go of Niala.”

  Isaac's eyes twitched between his brother and the girl before he scowled and pulled at Niala's collar. She meeped as she was jostled up to her feet and between him and David.

  The courier took a step forward, but stopped when Niala was interposed between the two men, his face hardening, and his fists tightening.

  Isaac spoke. “Perhaps, with your precious girl on the table, maybe you'll finally start telling me the truth?”

  David growled back. “What are you talking about!? None of us has told you a single lie.”

  The younger brother scoffed. “You take me for a fool? I very pitting well know that you can tell no lies and still omit the truth. What have you been NOT telling me, brother?”

  “What are you doing? What are you asking!? We saved you, you bleeding idiot! Should I just have let you die?! Save me all of this nonsense?!”

  “Tell me how! I don't want tales of flying with a magic sword that you farted into existence and miracle potions that's coming out of her ass!” He shouted, shaking Niala on his last few words.

  Something that David did not appreciate, as his face scrunched up and the blue flame around him doubled in brightness. “You... IDIOT. Let go of her RIGHT N-”

  “DAVID!” Niala shouted.

  He blinked, his growing rage brushed away. “Wh... what?”

  She softened her features, her ears flopping. “Please, just... let me talk with him. I don't think he wants to hurt anyone. Stop glowing blue and looking like you want to murder someone.” She said, pushing through their link a feeling of safety and certainty.

  David looked between Niala and Isaac, eyes squinting, before sighing and reining back his mana, shutting down his imbuements. He remained where he was, but crossed his arms and said nothing more.

  Niala silently worded a thank you to her beloved before turning toward Isaac, as much as she could while he still gripped her collar. She looked him in the eyes.

  Her voice was soft, calm. “He's intimidating, isn't he?”

  Isaac's eyes fidgeted. “What? Who?”

  “David.”

  His stare became pointed once more. “Don't s-”

  She cut him off. “When I first met him, he just appeared out of nowhere, thrusting his hand at me after I'd fallen on my butt. That tall, dark, imposing idiot was just standing there, right next to me. I thought he was going to mug me, but he just wanted to help me back up.”

  Isaac squinted. “What ar-”

  She shook her head. “After that, we had a lot of adventures together. We saved his nephew from Kwiller venom, we rebuilt an old house, we discovered and stopped a sacrificial ritual that had been going on for two hundred years...”

  “Woman, sto-”

  “And that wasn't even over a full year! So much has happened. I'm telling you all this, because I want you to understand; I saw David deal with so many people, and he always has this... intense look about him. When you don't know him, he comes off as this confident, certain, overpowering force of nature that puts you on the back foot, makes you wary.”

  Isaac stared. Niala ignored it and kept going.

  “But, really, he's just an idiot. A strong, loyal, honourable, well-meaning, secretly kind, goofy, and smart idiot.”

  Off to the side, Leandro grinned, while David shot him a side-eye, which only served to widen the man's smile.

  Isaac grimaced. “He's my brother! I know him! Why are you speaking as if I don't!? What are you trying to get at!?” He barked, tightening his grip on her collar.

  She only shook her head. “You don't. I think you knew him. You knew David Wardenfel. That's not my David. Or maybe it was, but he'd been hiding it. Tell me, Isaac, what kind of man is your brother?” She asked, ears turned up, staring into his soul.

  “He... he's weak! A loser! A quitter! Unworthy of the name! He failed to control himself and got my dear sister killed! He failed to bear the burdens of an heir! He left me alone with them! And now he- he has the gall to show up, out of nowhere, and say that he's so much better than me!?”

  He was panting by the time he finished.

  Niala gave him a comforting smile. “He's acted in a very intimidating manner, hasn't he? But you know, he told me, when he saw you at the town hall, he wanted to take you in his arms, and tell you how happy he was to see you again.”

  She turned her head toward David. “But that idiot didn't, because he was scared you'd be angry.”

  Niala turned back to Isaac. “And all those things you said, that he's weak, and a quitter, and so on. Are those things you thought of him before, or after, your parents threw him out?”

  Isaac opened his mouth to rebuke her, to tell her he'd always thought of him like that, because that's who he was.

  But his words refused to come out.

  Because that was a lie.

  Before, when they were younger, he had been envious of his brother, and a little bit scared of him, too, because, and to the pits with her, the woman was right. His brother was intimidating, in the way that people who plow ahead through life without any signs of indecision are.

  But... he knew. He didn't want to admit it, not even to himself, but he knew. He had seen his brother change over the years, after his mana measuring ceremony. Looking back on his immature self, he had seen the dark cloud that had sprouted over him, sapping away at his being, hollowing him out.

  He had seen it happen, but he didn't want to accept it, because to accept it meant he understood why he had asked his father to rescind him as the heir.

  It meant David had been strong enough to stand up to their father. Strong enough to survive out on his own. Strong enough to save himself.

  And he, Isaac, had not been. He had complied; he had forced himself to become the man his Father wanted him to become.

  Because he wanted his Father to look at him the same way he had looked at his brother. The same way he had looked at his brother.

  When he looked back up at the catkin, his eyes were sunken, trembling. His grip on her dress lessened to nothing more than a limp hold.

  Niala motioned behind her back for David to approach. She needed to repeat the motion three times before her dense hunk finally understood and approached.

  She stepped to the side, surrendering her spot to David, who stood awkwardly in front of his floundering brother, before she rolled her eyes and made a hugging motion, pointing her eyebrows.

  David slowly put his hands over his brother's shoulders, expecting him to swat them away, but Isaac did nothing but stare.

  The older sibling cleared his throat. “I... Isaac, I wish I could have been there for you. I wanted to be there for you, but I wasn't allowed. I sent you letters, but I guess they never reached you. I even tried to sneak back in, but the guards caught me and threw me back out. Five times.”

  He let out a deep breath. “Our history... I can't undo it, but please believe me when I say, I didn't want to leave you alone, I am sorry for what happened, and I was so terribly happy to see you again, after all those years.”

  Isaac slowly grabbed at David's shirt with both hands before he lowered his head, butting it against his brother's chest.

  His voice trembled. “Brother... why did you leave me alone...”

  David's breath caught, and, eyes glistening, he pulled his younger brother into a hug.

  Both men remained silent, their minds focused on not shedding a single tear and unable to come up with something to say, because men, and especially Wardenfels, did not cry.

  Niala, who had been waiting with giddiness on the side, stopped wiggling, her smile of triumph turning into a grimace of defeat, as she threw her hands in the air and stomped away, mumbling.

  Stupid men and their stupid rules about crying.