We Two Are One

~2~ Where Lies This Brother of Mine

I stare at the pastel blue ceiling and feel the soft warmth of the mattress beneath me. It is peaceful. The calm silence is melodious, lulling me. I missed this feeling. But the void I feel from the missing part of me makes me loathe this partial bliss, like an itch only half scratched.

I close my eyes. All is black, like our ending. All was dark and quiet despite the flashing lights and chaos.

I open my eyes. I must find Artie. Where would he be? Is his room in the same place before Father married Lady Elsie?

I jump out of bed. My body may be young and weak, but it's still learning and growing. This may be the right time to train it. Yes, Artie and I need to be strong. Stronger than ever. The strongest.

I bolt through the corridors that are still bright and lively. Running past the servants, guards, and magicians, I make a sharp turn into Father's study. I hear the busy scritch of his quill behind a mountain of paper.

   "Young lady, you mustn't be in here!" scolds the butler, who followed me inside.

   "Shh, it's a surprise visit! Lady Elsie told me to tell Father a secret," I say, mischievously.

He falls for my act and returns to patiently waiting by the door. Secret love messages from Elsie were likely a common occurrence. Oh, are a common occurrence.

The past is my present. The more recent past is a future that I will prevent.

I open the drawers under the shelf in the corner and use them to climb. I take a clear crystalline cube from the shelf, climb down, and return the drawers to their original positions. I turn to Father who is engrossed in work but seems to have noticed me entering. I pull a black paper off the shelf, fold it up, and walk up to Father.

   "Father, are you very busy? Lady Elsie told me to tell you something."

   "No, and what may that be?" The scritch of his quill continues as he waits, still behind the mountain of his duties.

His attention has not been caught in full. He mustn't have noticed my rumbling through his shelf. I pull a chair next to him and climb up, standing on it to reach his eye level. There are dark circles below his intelligent eyes. If only his intelligence extended to his family. I feel my guts twist. What is this horrid sense of affection? Why? Is it because I returned to a time when we were still close?

   "What is it?" he asks, sparing me a glance. This annoys me further.

I dramatically draw attention, opening the paper I just folded and pretending to read it out.

   "She asked you not to visit her at night," I reply innocently.

A moment of silence ensues as his quill stops and he processes my words. It is followed by Father's miraculous ability to choke on air. How pleasant, my mood is elevating.

   "Wh-what? Why did she ask you to- I mean... Ahem."

Father sinks into his seat, hoping the paperwork hides his distress.

   "Since she cannot sleep when it is too hot and bright."

   "However, I do not light the- No, why did she tell you- Oh dear."

Oh dear, indeed. I might grow fond of this. Father sinks so low he disappears below the desk.

   "The Lady was dazzled by your beautiful burning red hair."

I hear Father slam his palms into his face. Or, given the amplitude of the sound, his face into the desk.

   "It's ginger, though," he mumbles, defeated.