“Brothaaaaaaaaaa!”

A little girl who looked no older than four spoke. She called for her older brother, who seemed to have lost himself in the world of books.

Once again, like a million times before.

And much to the chagrin of the little child, the older sibling paid little to no attention.

The little girl puffed her cheeks, angry and annoyed. She was far more expressive than whatever she would be in the future.

“————”

Some older looking people spoke in the background, and then shifted their focus to the boy.

“——”

They were saying something to him.

"-----!"

“All right all right I GET IT.”

The boy finally opened his mouth, voicing out his annoyance.

He looked over towards his little sister, wondering what the best way to make her shut up would be.

They would constantly fight, constantly scream at each other’s throats.

The ten year old boy, and the little girl. Their bickering filled the house with liveliness.

“What do you want?” Asked the boy.

“Let’s play outside.” The air stuffed inside the little girl’s cheeks deflated, as she happily put out her request. He was finally listening after all.

…Well, not like he never did. It was simply a bit uncommon.

“…”

“…”

The girl tilted her head. “Brotha?” She questioned, with her lisp still in place. It would be, for years to come.

“Haaa… Fine. What do you want to play?”

“Hmm…. I don’t know.”

“…?” They boy sighed, displaying his frustration. He was already used to her impulsiveness, but it took time having to adjust himself for it everyday.

“…”

"..."

“What?”

The girl continued her little staring game.

And then;

“CATCH ME!”, off went the little girl.

“Wai— BRAT!” And so did the boy. As usual.

The little girl was unusually fast for her age, frankly annoying everyone in the household every time she ran around like the little devil she was. Constantly creating a mess everywhere, and causing chaos. That was what her life was based on, like any child.

They did this every year, which considering how much of a bookworm the boy was… it was a surprise in an of it’s own.

…Okay maybe they did this every month.

.

.

.

It was everyday.

Somehow, the little girl managed to drag the boy out of his little hut. Every single time. By hook or crook, by the silent treatment or by parents. These fun outings weren’t long, but they were a fond memory for both of them.

The boy reminisced in his memories as he heard her laughter.

…

A somewhat antique household, with yellow lanterns and red carpets.

Waaaaaaaaa! Waaaaaaa!

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The sound of a new life arose. A young woman cried, not knowing how she had the right to enjoy such happiness.

Amidst her joy filled tears, she remembered to call for her other child. She waited for a moment, composing herself.

“Eon~!” Her melodious voice rang, pleasing the maidservant’s ears.

Well they would have, had she not been numbed to that voice over the passing of so many decades.

Answering the call, a young boy came running towards the patterned gates. A few servants were on his heels, praying that the child would not fall.

He didn’t.

The servants opened the gate, and ushered in the boy.

“Mama!” The child spoke softly, bringing his own little sunshine into the room.

“My child.” Eon leapt into the young woman’s arms, swinging himself onto her lap. The newborn infant had silenced herself after instinctively sensing the presence of another person in the room.

The young woman smiled. “Don’t you wish to see your little sister?”

The young boy nodded, half curious, and half excited. He leapt off the bed and went to the cradle that his mother had pointed to.

A small, feeble, fist raised into the air. It was weak enough to the point that the boy could crush it with his arms.

The boy was confused. Was this how babies acted?

He peered over and into the cradle. There lay a small life, with her purplish hair shining in the dim light.

Yes, not all babies were bald like Seth Everman.

The baby’s half closed eyes glittered with innocence. The raised fist still lay bare, yet firm. It was as if the child held the world in her hands.

The boy instinctually put his index finger in the air, hovering it over the child’s face.

The child quickly pulled her raised fist to it, firmly gripping it as if she would not let go.

Ehehe! Then the child, she giggled, thrashing around with her little legs.

She held the world in her hands. And at the moment Eon knew.

He would do absolutely anything it took to protect that world.

…

Like right now. Eon had never been athletic, far from it. Yet even he could have instances where he burst forth with strength and speed.

He utilized them as he dashed and prevented the little girl from tripping on her feet, and crashing head-first into the tree ahead. They had already run out of the household, and beyond the compounds.

“Huff.. Huff… Hooooo… Brat. Don’t you ever run like that again. At least see where you are going.”

“Mmm…” The boy narrowed his eyes.

“Oi, are you even listening?”

“Brotha.” She was erratic. As always. And so would be her next sentences. “Can we paint this tree? Pretty please?” And yes, she could speak without lisping. When she was focusing.

“…”

The deadpanned face was not amusing to the little girl.

Sigh… “What will you even paint here?”

“A tree!”

“Huh? Wait, a tree on a tree?”

“Yes!” She sure was excited. "But… I don’t have colors.” Then the excitement shimmered down.

This childish dialogue was not in any way shape or form amusing to the boy. “…Let me see what I have.” But he complied anyway. He needed to get out of his safe zone sometimes anyway. And who was to say he was having fun?

Certainly not him.

He went to his room, and rummaged through his collection. He had build somewhat of a library in this antique mansion.

He found some color crayons lying around. With nothing better, he brought them to the tree.

The little girl was elated. She quickly rummaged through them under the boy's eyes.

“Brotha! I’ll show them after completing them okay?” The little child commanded. With whatever aura she could muster, which… wasn’t much. There was no authority.

But I brought the colors… The boy didn’t think much either. Ah.. Oh well. Guess I’ll go rea—

SLAM!

“Eon! Arrange your room right now!”

“…”

The little boy facepalmed. And the girl giggled in his misery.

…

Half an hour later.

The boy dragged his body to the grassy compound, wishing to start exercising and eating more.

Alas, his procrastination would shut them down soon enough. He looked around, searching for the little girl.

“Hmm! Hmhmhm~!” There she was, leaning against the tree as she watched the sunset.

[…]

Where would this cheerfulness be lost?

And for what reason?

[...]

She noticed her brother amidst her little hums. “Ah! Brotha!” She waved.

Heh. A small smile blossomed on his face. The little boy emerged from his slouching, stretching his back before he made way to the tree.

The little girl’s giggles never left the space. Her innocence and liveliness were infectious.

“Hmm?”

“Mama says I’m good at drawing!”

He was pleasantly surprised. By her self (and mother) proclaimed drawing skills, and by the content she had drawn.

The art… the doodles had potential hidden in them, she could make a career out of it in the future.

“You said you were going to paint a tree?”

“Yes… but just a tree was boring. So I thought, tree is a source of life. Mama gave birth to me and takes care of me. Brotha protects me. So you guys are my source of life! Isn’t that better than a boring tree?” The little child.. she looked no older than four. Yet, her cheerful words, and innocence brought forth countless emotions.

The doodles were as she said. A source of life.

A memory.

Even their mother -- who had been looking over from the balocy--agreed.She tried to hold back her urges to just go there, pick them up, and shower them with love until the end of time.

They were her reason for living.

And as such, she couldn’t hold her maternal instincts.

She walked to them with a smile beaming on her face. The little girl ran to her, and asked her to see what she had made.

The boy watched the sunset for a bit. Resolving himself. Once again.

He was more mature than most. After all, he had survived something he never should have.

“Eon. Mana. Come here.” The purple haired woman picked them up and placed them on her shoulders, showcasing her strength. “It’s getting dark now, so let’s get home and enjoy a hearty meal okay?”

Mana adjusted herself before speaking, “ Is sister Annie cooking this time?”

“What? I want to eat Donaz’s cooking this time!”

“No! Sister Annie!”

“Doonaaazzz!”

“Okay okay calm down you too. I’m cooking this time.”

The children looked at each other, before—

“YAY!!”

—raising their hands to the air in triumph.

The little girl pestered her mother for a bit more on the way… while the boy recounted everything that had happened today.

“…”

He went over the family doodle in his mind.

Mana, she had drawn herself of course. She had drawn him and their mother too. He looked a tad bit serious yet goofy; the boy couldn’t figure out how she had managed to put THAT on a tree bark.

As for their dear Mama…

“Ah.”

She was missing her horns.