[P] stand as brothers, we

[Erd]

with all our demons, our hells, our heathens, 
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.

“Speaking.”

credits

[Ard]

the dancing shadows of youth, the colder stars of our truth
the sun that sets on these

In the end, the encounter with Moira had gone better than expected. Ard still didn’t know what to make of it, even after the woman’s countenance had changed into something softer, a gentle lilt that had lured him out of that terrible, foggy stupor. Something about the entire experience had left him shaken, the lingering dredges of a life of enslavement, cruelty, and condemnation far too much to bear. It left him feeling numb and empty, hollow, tired and weak and exhausted... But Erd understood.

Erd always understood.

Where Ard was weak, his brother stood strong. Always the stalwart, jovial sort of pillar holding him up, the young warlock knew well that he could stand and balance himself against his brother’s unfathomable strength. As the door was opened to their shared chamber, Ard allowed his brother to step through before shuffling in after him. Turquoise eyes glanced up and took a quick moment to scan the small confines of their room, eyeing their respective supplies and work stations, the tumble of quilts and rolls they shared for a bed. It felt warm, familiar, their own scent meeting his nose when he inhaled deeply.

They were safe. Here, between just the two of them, Ard knew that he did not need to worry. No one would judge him here. No one would look at him with contempt or judgement within their gaze.

Letting his shoulders droop and sag, his head lowering from the weight of it all and posture hunching upon himself, Ard slowly began to shrug out of his hood and cloak. His twin’s soft inquiry of, ’... Are you alright?’ was responded to with a lingering, troubled silence. Erd knew. He always knew, and yet he chose to ask anyway.

The younger brother’s eyes flicked upwards, catching Erd’s concerned gaze and the furrow to his pale brows, and let out another deep, long sigh. There was a brief moment of hesitation as he made to speak, a rasp of a whisper escaping his lips before it cut off abruptly. Instinct kicked in, the need to remain silent, to not make a sound stealing the very breath from his lungs before he remembered that here, in their small room with just his brother at his side, he was safe. Fine. Okay. Protected. Loved. Free. Vreis’ cruelty and madness held no sway here.

Slowly the warlock’s turquoise eyes slid shut. He swallowed, pursed his lips with furrowed brows, and then allowed the words to come. It was the memory of his brother’s facial expression, open, earnest, and adoring with that look of love and affection shining in his eyes that urged him to finally, finally break his silence. “No.” A simple word of tumbled gravel, thick, choked, and raspy from a throat and vocal chords that were oftentime unused. “But I will be.” Or so he hoped.

Using his telekinesis, Ard pulled off the remainder of his hood and cloak and allowed it to crumple in a pile in the corner closest to the door. He didn’t care much for hanging it up. Instead of retiring to the shelter of the quilts on the bed or to the corner with his charcoals and canvasses, the younger twin turned and moved closer to his brother. His eyes flicked open, catching Erd’s worried stare, before stepping in towards his personal space and pressing up against him to embrace him in the only way horses could. Wrapping his neck around Erd’s own, Ard breathed, feeling his brother’s pulse beneath his touch. For a moment he was content to stand there, listening, breathing, letting the steady thump-thump of Erd’s heart soothe his own racing one.

Abruptly, Ard’s expression gave way, a wretched look of agony stealing across his face. “I… Didn’t expect it. I thought I was getting better.” Turmoil cut through the roughness of his voice, the strained, wavering whisper stained with guilt and fear. “I-I… I thought I was getting better, Erd.” And yet, all it had taken was a single command, thoughtless and innocent, to thrust him back into the wretched mentality he had lived with back in Luminous.

“Speaking.”

credits

*oh boy*