A life of losses and gains

A mere reflection

What happens when someone has to share their skills and talents with another? When all they are is a clone of someone else? How is someone supposed to feel when all their life has been nothing but a mere reflection of another's?

For as long as I could remember my entire life has been this journey of following the steps of those above me. That's not to say I'm not a real person, I eat and breathe the same as anyone else, but for most of my childhood, I felt as though I was a nobody, a replaceable piece of a puzzle, a shadow that was cast by a bright light.

I guess to make sense of my insecurities I have to think back to when I was still a young boy, an orphan raised in my little village out in the middle of nowhere, away from the bustling kingdoms where the rich spent their nights in brothels with women and wine. I was one of many orphans, but I in particular lived my life alongside another, found the same day as I was, was my adopted twin brother Arthur.

We both grew up in pretty much the same situation, mirrors of each other, we ate the same food, went to the same school and even trained under the same regiment for the village guards, which in our childhood we both looked up to greatly.

Our similarities ended there though, for as great or intelligent we were, we were not the same person and there was one thing Arthur excelled more than I.

Charisma.

How do I know? Well, it was a slow process, at first I thought it was just because he talked a lot, but eventually, I realised it wasn't just that, it was the fact he genuinely was bright like the sun itself, a shining symbol of happiness and greatness, something I clearly lacked since I fell to the wayside.

Knowing our differences, I lost my will to do anything, what was the point after all? I do my best, but that was echoed by Arthur in tenfolds, so why try at all?

Everything just became mundane in the end, even training with the village guards, which was a privilege for any young adolescent boy or girl. Being a guard was considered a high position, one full of rewards and fame. Yet, despite all of those promises, it amounted to nothing when compared to the happiness I wished for.

So, exercises became nothing more than a pastime, an activity to relieve my boredom.

I remember it quite vividly, the last time I trained with the guards. We were made to line up while the instructor watched us perform techniques that were hammered into us through exercises.

By that point, I had cared very little for the work we were made to do, so while Arthur practised the techniques I stayed in my room to read a book.

Anywho when it was time to be tested, I was up first. I may not have wanted to work, but it was still a privilege to be there, so I at least tried to look like I was interested and readied the blade on my side.

I eyed my target, took a deep breath and then lunged forward with as much strength as I could muster. Then, in one motion, I took my blade off its sheathe and sliced the dummy in half.

"Very good."

The instructor then dismissed me and recorded my score on his clipboard with a small smile on his face. Though it didn't last long because it quickly returned to the stern expression he had before as he called for the next person to go up.

Arthur was last so all eyes were on him, the air was tense, expectations were high and much like anything he did, excitement was rumbling all around.

Eyeing the dummy, Arthur readied his blade and the moment the instructor yelled go, he zipped forward, dug his blade into the dummy's side, and cut it cleanly in half.

Silence then fell on us before a roar of glee erupted from the other students in our regiment. They quickly crowded around Arthur and started telling him about how great he was and how they wished they could do what he did. Meanwhile, I was off the side watching the entire thing unfold and the veins of our instructor start to pop out from the noise.