with all our demons, our hells, our heathens,
so let them rest in peace
so let them rest in peace
“Ard?”
The question of his brother’s name was spoken on a delicate whisper, a gentle caress of concern and love. In an asinine sort of way, Erd was concerned that if he raised his voice too loud, the frayed edges that held Ard together might finally tear. It wouldn’t have been the first time that his younger brother had fallen apart from the duress of social situations, but it had been the first time that it had happened during their life in Novus. The recent events lingered like the unpleasant paranoia of a past nightmare, potent and poignant and all consuming.
Leaving Terrastella behind for a brief moment had meant to serve as a relaxing reprieve from their worries, not turn into, well… Into that. Erd still felt terrible. Truthfully, it had been his fault. Good intentions or not, he hadn’t really planned out or anticipated what would happen after so rudely waking Moira up from her nap. Maybe a bit of general displeasure? But watching Ard’s very visceral, very alarming reaction to her fury had been… Well, to put it bluntly, alarming.
Regardless, they returned to Terrastella. Side by side and not without constant contact, Erd stayed with his brother as they ventured back to their home in the Dusk Court, tucking themselves away into the privacy of their small, single window room. It wasn’t fancy. It was nothing like Israfel’s quarters, emblazoned with silk scarves of crimson and gold and a rough map of her homeland adorning the wall, with double doors that lead out onto a balustrade. It was simple. It was all they really needed.
Pushing the door open, Erd guided the way inside. The candles were still unlit from when they had left, shrouding the room in a familiar darkness. His turquoise eyes scanned the small confines, taking in their meager place of living. A small cot of quilts that they shared lay situated against the far wall, one corner of the room set up for Ard’s charcoals and paints, the dried mixtures and sticks of charcoal haphazardly strewn on top of pieces of blotchy parchment. His own working station was in the opposite corner, tools and crudely-pieced together amalgamations shoved to the side so that they wouldn’t trip over anything and risk spraining a fetlock. Ard had always been the more organized twin, but looking at their room now, well… It was quite the mess.
The older twin moved out of the way of the door so that his brother could shuffle in after, and turning about, he used that strange telekinesis to close it once Ard was inside. His gaze remained rooted on Ard’s pale face, spotting the worry that pinched his brow and the shadows that stained his eyes. Erd knew his brother better than anyone, probably better than he knew himself, and this was terribly concerning.
Taking a step closer, Erd’s frown deepened. He reached out, both in mind and in body, and offered his muzzle to his twin. “... Are you alright?” It was a loaded question, and one that he already knew the answer to, but love, care, and devotion caused him to ask it anyway.
