Royal Ruins

Chapter I

There are not many people who can persuade Maverik Brookler to do anything he does not wish to. Whether it be a task as simple as washing the stocks or assisting in preparing lunch, Maverik would sooner off his own limb than offer his hand.

However, when it came to his younger brother Urion, there was very little Maverik could not be convinced to do. Which is how he found himself covered head to toe in dirt and grime, his once clean attire now littered in filth.

"Have you got it?" Urion questioned, somewhere to Maverik's left. 

The "it" in question was a manely cat with fur growing unevenly across its skeletal body. Hideous as it was, Urion did not seem to mind, for it was a living thing in need, and that was all he had to know.

Urion Brookler was the light side to Maverik's dark side. As princes, the Brookler brothers had a duty to see that their people are well-fed and cared for. Urion did not mind the responsibility. He rather enjoyed interacting with the citizens and knowing they were well. When they were to report back to their parents, Urion delivered such detailed observations one might believe he'd lived in the poorer streets of downtown Ospacion since birth.

When they were younger, Urion scarcely fought with the other children. If they called him crude names in the corridors, Urion did acknowledge them. He acted as if their harsh words did not affect him.

Maverik knew this to be untrue, for it was he who often found his brother hid away in his room, eyes wet and face blotchy.

"I do not understand why they hate me," Urion would ask. 

"They do not hate you," Maverik would respond. "They hate what you are. It's jealousy."

"Jealousy? What have I got that they need to be jealous of?"

"Your title, Urion."

Despite how much he wished to, Maverik did not intervene. Not because Urion requested he not, but because Maverik knew Urion would harden from the experience, if only a little. A king who could not accept criticism was unfit to rule. If Urion met all snide remarks with tears, he could not survive.

Though one day, Urion surprised Maverik.

It was a few weeks after he first found his brother crying in their bedroom. He returned late one night, and Maverik stayed awake for him. The fire was nearly out in the kerasin, but even in the dimly lit room Maverik could see the dark bruise forming on Urion's cheekbone.

Maverik was on his feet in an instant. "Who did this?"

Urion did not respond. His eyes were cast down and his body was trembling. Maverik reached out, laying his hands on his brother's shoulders.

"Urion. Who did this?" 

"It was me. I started it," Urion admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Only then did Maverik notice his brother's fists, clenched at his sides. They were swollen and purple, red with blood.

Maverik opened his mouth. Closed it. When he looked back up, Urion was watching him. His eyes were dry; hard.

"I learned to not care what opinions they form of me," Urion told Maverik. "And they seem to have realized as such."

"Then --?"

"I said of me, Maverik. It was not my virtues in question."

Maverik's breath caught. He had no words, nothing to say in return to Urion's confession. All he could do was stare, until he finally found his voice.

"If you are meant to be king, you will have to learn to ignore insults directed at me especially. Many more will follow."

"I should not have to ignore them. They should not be said to begin with."

"But they are. It will only be in your best interest to pretend otherwise."

Urion remained silent. Maverik braced himself for an argument, but none came. After a moment, Urion bowed his head in shame.

"You are right, Maverik. I will not fight again."

True to his words, Urion never again fought with his fists. He found he preferred being armed with wits than any other sort of weapon, and Lord knew he had enough to suffice.

"What is taking so long, Maverik?" Urion hollered, pulling Maverik from his thoughts.

Mumbling to himself, Maverik crept slowly forward, until he was crouched directly in front of the cat.

"Come here, you damned thing."

Letting out a ferocious hiss, the cat arched its back and bared its teeth to Maverik. Just as he reached a hand out to grab the frightened animal, it stuck out its paw, claws digging into the meaty flesh of his arm. Swearing, Maverik tugged the cat to his chest and hurried out of the confined space.

"Crazy thing!" Maverik snapped, finally releasing the cat. It hissed one last time before running off.

"You let it get away!"

Urion came up to Maverik, rosy cheeked and out of breath. Maverik presented his arm, covered in scratches and blood that was quickly drying.

"It might become infected," Maverik told Urion.

"Oh, do not be dramatic. You are fine."

"Cannot say the same for the cat. Once I find it, I will --"

"Do nothing," Urion interrupted. "You advanced far too haste. It was frightened."

"I was frightened."

Urion smiled. "Never heard you admit such a thing before, Maverik."

Before Maverik had the chance to respond, a voice called from behind them. "Princes!"

Turning, Maverik narrowed his eyes at the man racing toward them. He was short and plump, his grey hair nearly gone from old age, or perhaps stress. Delivering messages for the king and queen of Ospacion surely became tiring after some time, especially when most of the news was dreadful.

Urion stepped forward. "Yes, Cornelius?"

Beads of sweat coated the man's forehead. Maverik wondered how long he had been searching for them.

"His Highness requests both of you in the dining hall."

"What business?" asked Maverik, moving to stand next to Urion. Where Urion stood poised and posture, resembling that of a true king, Maverik was slouched and unconcerned.

Cornelius shook his head. "I know not what His Highness desires, only who he wishes to see."

Maverik curled his lips. "Quite a pitiful messenger then, would you not say?"

Cornelius set his jaw, but otherwise kept quiet. Urion pressed a hand to Maverik's chest, forcing him to take a step back.

"Thank you, Cornelius. We'll come right away."

Once Cornelius scurried off, Urion turned to Maverik and sighed. "Do you always have to be so harsh with them, Maverik? They do as they are told."

"Perhaps the problem lies in that, Urion."

"How do you mean?"

Maverik shook his head. "Never mind. Come on. If Cornelius is sent after us again, he might very well die from exhaustion."