Twisted Choices

Chapter 35

Markus twisted the keys hastily to Hero's office at the army base. Passing soldiers looked at him sadly, pitying how their ruler had lost his brother to betrayal. Markus frowned at the thought, and twisted the knob too rough. He heard the knob make a cracking sound as he shouted in his own head that his brother was not a traitor.

He kicked open the door and shut it loudly behind him. He took in his brother's office. The desk in front of him was littered with documents, letters and reports. A cup of ink has spilled in the corner, and multiple quills were scattered on the desk. There was a 'discarded stash' in the corner, a bunch of stacked papers stabbed angrily by a dagger. Those were usually bad reports or marriage proposals by rich families.

Markus walked around the table, to Hero's chair. It was an old thing, but had padded seats, armrests and even a padded backrest. It was worn from use, and Hero's military trenchcoat-thing was draped over it. He picked it up, and smiled warmly at the one-and-only general rank on the shoulders. It had long sleeves, which were folded neatly at the ends. Hero's last name was on the tag, right below the Royal Military crest, a creeper surrounded by olive leaves. Their motto was in a small banner surrounding the creeper.

'To Those Who Believed'

It was obviously hinting at Hero and Markus, those who started Minecraftia's dream along with many who fought in the rebellion. It was them who believed, and worked hard for that belief, for Minecraftia to be free and on her own.

It would probably make no sense now to some, as the one who led the rebellion had committed multiple unforgivable crimes, and was either dead on still on the run. Markus hoped it was the latter.

He thumbed the stripes of Hero's rank on the shoulder, before dropping back on the chair. He opened the drawers on Hero's desk. Most of them contained more papers, while some had random necessities. He saw a brush in there somewhere, and a first aid kit as well. There was some oil for bruises and abrasions thrown in the mix. Markus was just a little surprised to find a dagger hidden in all of the drawers. He could not blame his brother though, Hero was paranoid sometimes.

When Markus was lazily looking around, he caught something colored among the mundane white of papers. He pulled it out, and his heart warmed at the gray, white and black picture. It was of the main team, Hero, Darryl, Kaleb and Markus. Hero and Kaleb were both in fighting gear, their bodies heavy with multiple weapons. Hero was loosely holding a rifle while Kaleb nuzzled into his cheek. Kaleb had a sheathed sword thrown over his shoulder. Darryl, Markus flinched, was in his unusual garbs once again. He laughed merrily at Kaleb's antics. Markus then looked at himself. He played strategist in the rebellion, and was dressed normally. There were notes in his hands, and he just grinned at his frowning brother.

Markus sighed. Kaleb and Darryl were dead. Kaleb had a hero's funeral, and Hero had looked solemn in the dark ceremony. Minecraftia's flag was draped over his coffin, and he had an honorable marble grave. The military's motto was even on there, and no doubt it was covered in flowers right now. Darryl, oh dear, had a quieter funeral. Well, according to Jeb, since Markus refused to attend. People were shocked at first, but they just assumed he was traumatized by his brother's 'betrayal'.

He too, had a hero's funeral, but honestly, Markus did not think he deserved one. Darryl had made Markus think that his own brother needed to die. Markus knew he was being too cold, but he always sided with his brother. Markus tucked the picture in his pocket, and went exploring again. Markus had privately requested for all of Hero's uniforms to be safely kept away in a chest, so he ignored the wardrobe. He went out to the balcony instead.

Cold wind blew at his face, and Markus sighed. He leaned against the railing, and stared at his kingdom, his country that he built with his brother. They all believed that Hero was killer. They all want him dead.