Big Brother & Little Sister – 2.4

They resumed their journey as soon as the sun rose. Naturally, Max hadn’t slept a wink. But the same couldn’t be said for Helen. She had slept better, more peacefully, and securely.

He wasn’t sure what to think about that. It was a bit much for him to wrap his head around. It wasn’t normal, that much was certain. But did that mean it was wrong? It wasn’t the same. An abnormal response to an abnormal event was probably the most natural thing, wasn’t it?

Even if it was a problem to solve, he wouldn’t even know where to start. He wasn’t a psychotherapist. The only mental health he’d ever been responsible for—his own—had plummeted without remedy. Instead of improving, it had only worsened. And no matter how bad he’d thought he felt back then, in that other life, Helen had gone through something much, much worse. Something for which there were no words.

So, if trusting him to keep her safe, if seeing peace and security in his capacity for violence, helped her—was it really so bad?

She had a right to be at peace, to feel secure. For God’s sake, she was just a child.

She still wasn’t in a state to walk on her own. So Max carried her again. He didn’t mind; it was what needed to be done, the least he could do. Besides, she weighed no more than a feather. He worried more about the people who might see her, as he wasn’t doing much to hide her. To be more precise, to hide her pointed ears. They didn’t need any more problems, obstacles along the way, or delays.

She shouldn’t have to hide or be ashamed of who she was, but maybe in the next town, he’d buy her a hood. He should’ve thought about that earlier, but he’d been too eager to leave that damned place. He hadn’t been thinking clearly. If I’m even capable of that, he thought, shaking his head.

In the end, he decided he was overthinking it. Max stopped and looked at Helen.

“Is something wrong?” she asked. “Danger again?”

“No, not that.”

They were alone on the road, at least for the moment. Danger and help were both still far away, though danger was always the easier to find.

“It’s just that, Helen, I was thinking… that town up ahead, whatever its name is, do you think I should go in and buy you a hood? I mean, would it be necessary to, you know, hide your ears? Look, I’m not saying you have to, I just want to gauge… the level of danger, you know? How much do people hate elves?”

“Well, it’s worse in villages, in remote settlements. A lot of superstition,” Helen said slowly after a while. He’d thought she might reply with something like, “Shouldn’t you already know that?” because he should have, if he were truly a native of this world.

“In other places, we’re not treated much better, but what happened last night… something like that isn’t likely to happen in broad daylight, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it.”

A lot of racism. But lynching, burning, or publicly selling them wasn’t acceptable… not yet, at least. The worst kind of racism was perhaps the insidious, subtle kind, the one that was much harder to fight.

“It’s good to know they won’t jump us everywhere,” Max said. “A real relief.”

He hadn't hesitated to kill those bandits. But, after all, they were human trash planning to sell a girl as a sex slave to enrich themselves. Anyone in their right mind would agree they deserved to die screaming.

Fighting other despicable humans—not as despicable as the bandits, but still—for her... He would do it. His hand wouldn’t tremble, but he didn’t think he’d feel good about it. He shouldn’t feel good about it. He should feel bad, maybe already shaking, remembering what happened last night. But he didn’t care, and that wasn’t normal either.

Still, he could justify it because they’d been monsters. If he had to fight and kill someone guilty mainly of ignorance, of being brainwashed by their culture... Well, that wasn’t much of an excuse. But he didn’t know what to think. He’d deal with it all when the time came.

"Sir Max..."

"I already told you not to call me 'sir.' That’s not going to stop, is it?"

The girl ignored him.

"Really, don’t worry about me. Nothing should happen, even if we don’t hide my ears, if you want to make a stop there."

"No, no, no. No stops. We still have a lot of daylight left and a long way to go. You said it should be close enough to walk to, but... Helen, I have another question."

"Go ahead. I’ll never lie to you."

"Yeah, well, that’s what I wanted to get to. Listen, you told me that... Why is it true? Is there some kind of rule that you can’t show humans where you live? And, well, I’m an exception because you trust me or something. You know... Is there a reason you don’t want me to just hire a coachman and get there faster? Would that be a problem or something?"

"Well, I haven’t seen many elf tribes besides mine. But some might take offense. But if you want to get a carriage, well, if you find someone willing to take me, it shouldn’t be a problem. As long as we don’t take them all the way to the entrance, you know."

"I see. So it’d be hard to find a coachman like that."

"There are some who won’t because they don’t want to. Others maybe don’t care about elves, but if they see an elf in their carriage, it could hurt their business. Rumors could start about them and that kind of thing." Helen shrugged. "I don’t know, Sir Max. I’m just a dumb little girl. These are just things my mother told me."

Max mulled it over a bit. He nodded slowly.

"Well, let’s keep walking. If it’s really not that far..."

"Of course it’s not. I’d never lie to you, I swear."

Yes, it’s true, Jeren.

"Hey, I don’t know much about elves or this world. The thing is... I’m not from this world."

What reason did he have to hide it from her? Another question was whether she’d believe him. But, well, here goes.

Helen’s eyes widened.

"From another world? Oh, okay."

"That easy?"

"Well, magic can do all kinds of things. People can even fly, and the gods aren’t exactly in our world. So it’s not that far-fetched."

"Wow, when you put it like that, now I feel a bit stupid for overthinking how to tell you, or whether to tell you. Do you really believe me? Just like that?"

"Yes, yes, why not? Besides, it’s you, Sir Max. Why would you lie to me?"

There it was again. That blind faith. Max bit his lower lip.

"Alright, maybe it’s not that far-fetched. But I want this to stay between us, okay?"

The girl nodded.

"I’m telling you because I don’t want to lie to you. But I also need your help, for you to tell me everything I need to know."

"I wish I could help you more, sir. I’m just a dumb little girl," she repeated, "but I’ll do what I can."

"I wish you’d be less formal with me. Most of the time, it makes me feel a bit weird, like you’re kissing my feet."

"You deserve my respect. Everything you’ve done for me, I don’t need to repeat it again. Besides, my mom..." A shadow crossed her face. "My mom raised me to be this way, to be grateful, to be respectful to my elders, yes, to be a good girl."

Helen swallowed hard.

"Yeah. She sounds like a good woman. I wish I could have met her."

"And I wish you had met her. You would have done..."

Helen suddenly blushed. Was she coming down with a fever? He placed a hand on her forehead. No, her cheeks were just red, not her forehead. Probably not a fever.

"Something wrong?" Max asked.

"No, nothing. Don’t worry, please. Just a silly thought that crossed my mind."

"Uh-huh. Alright, then."

Aside from telling her what he needed to tell her, Max was chatting with her mainly to keep her distracted and awake, focused. So it didn’t matter much. If she didn’t want to talk about whatever it was, they could talk about something else—anything else, really.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"What’s your world like?" Helen asked softly.

Luckily, there was no one else around, for now.

"Very different from this one. For starters, there’s no magic, and no elves either."

"No? How strange."

"Well, you exist, sure, but only in stories and fictional tales."

Just like your gods, he thought but decided not to say, thinking it was too much of a bombshell to drop on the girl in her state. Besides, for all he knew, Ares and the others might have influence in his world. It was a bit strange and curious that they existed in fiction. That the stories from his world described them so accurately... There had to be some kind of connection, right? Or maybe just multiverse oddities. Damn, he’d never know anyway, so no use overthinking it. But he supposed he also needed a distraction.

"And how do they describe us? As evil creatures?" Helen asked, innocently curious, tilting her head slightly.

"Evil? No, generally... well, there are good ones and bad ones, or in-between, like humans. Usually, they’re on the side of the protagonists or at least don’t interfere if it’s none of their business, nature and all that stuff."

"Oh," Helen said. "That is strange. Well, if we don’t exist there, I guess it doesn’t matter."

"It doesn’t matter how they’re portrayed. I didn’t... I hadn’t thought about that. Damn."

"I’ve heard many human tales and lullabies. We’re always causing trouble and dying. My mom used to get so upset about that. She could talk for hours about... damn."

Helen covered her face with a hand.

"Helen, it’s okay to cry if you need to. There’s nothing wrong with it. It can be cleansing, like taking a weight off your shoulders."

"Do you cry?"

"Yeah, of course."

The last time I cried was when I found your mother’s body, he thought.

"Really? Even you?"

"Before Ares chose me and pulled me out of my world, I was nobody special. Just a normal guy..."

He trailed off. He didn’t want to lie to the girl but also didn’t want to tell her about the cancer. He’d had enough of pitying looks and all those clichés spilling out like a damn flood.

"Anyway... I cried as much as anyone else. Man or woman, it doesn’t matter."

Helen nodded slowly. Her eyes were brimming with tears.

She hid her face in his chest and cried silently against the cold steel. He hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep all night and hadn’t taken off that damn armor. He still wasn’t sure how he’d manage to put it back on without help in the first place.

But he wished he’d taken it off just to comfort her better, so she could feel the warmth of his skin instead of the cold metal. But if it worked, well, it worked.

"I want to become as strong as you."

No, maybe it wasn’t working after all.

"I never want to feel that kind of fear again."

"You’ll become stronger. I’ll make sure of it."

He could have told her: "Come on, Helen, you were the one who saved my ass from Ronan. Without you, I'd be dead. I wouldn't even have been able to defeat the White Serpent in the first place." And while true, that wouldn't help her at all.

So he kept his mouth shut and only said what she wanted to hear. He was just a kid too, but still much older than Helen and not entirely stupid. He wasn’t about to mess it up so easily.

——

"It's here."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay, let's give it a shot."

Max ventured into the forest. The moment he stepped inside, he began to feel something strange, like a tingling at the nape of his neck, warning him of danger. It wasn’t any special skill, just some kind of instinct. It had developed since he started facing life-or-death situations not even two days ago, but it was instinct nonetheless.

Max didn’t make the mistake of ignoring that warning. He looked around as he moved forward, searching for the other elves of the promised tribe, vigilant and alert to danger. But even so, it wasn’t enough. Before he knew it, enemies emerged from the shadows, and he realized he was surrounded.

The elves of the whatever-they’re-called tribe carried spears, swords, axes, and many bows pointed straight at his head. He also spotted a few staffs similar to the one Helen carried, but not many.

"Be careful," said an elf woman. "We can’t afford to hit the little one by accident, even if it’s just a scratch."

"Cut it out, dammit!" said Max. "I come—we come—in peace."

"You speak Elvish?" the elf woman asked, raising an eyebrow.

That’s news to me, he thought.

The elf, armed with a bow, descended from the branch she had been perched on. With a graceful leap, she landed smoothly, bending her knees and keeping the bow drawn, arrow aimed right between his eyes. There was no doubt in his mind that all the bastards surrounding him were good with a bow.

"In peace?" the elf repeated, slowly advancing with her bow raised. "That’s what you say, carrying a small child who’s clearly pale and weak. I don’t know what you’ve done to her, but—"

"Enough," Helen suddenly said. "Enough!"

The damn elves misunderstood her because suddenly there was a rain of arrows—a wall of freaking steel. Max clicked his tongue and dropped to the ground, holding Helen tighter, shielding her with his body. Priorities were priorities. Most of the arrows simply bounced off his armor. However, one left him with a nice gash on his right cheek. He felt the tear, the pain, the sensation of blood spilling. That was the worst, perhaps.

"Enough! Enough!"

The rain of arrows stopped immediately. Good, because sooner or later one would’ve hit his damn eye. And he wasn’t sure he had the endurance or stamina—or whatever it was—to take that in stride.

The same elf approached them this time with her bow lowered.

"I can’t believe you only protected the merchandise," she said, practically spitting. "So I suppose it’s possible you do come in peace, is it?"

"I’ll kill you if I have to," Helen said. "I won’t let you lay a finger on him."

The elf woman didn’t react at all as if she’d just been threatened with death. Maybe because Helen was just a child. Maybe because she was too confident—he didn’t know. Probably, if she knew Helen had nearly single-handedly defeated Poseidon’s champion, she’d be pissing herself right about now.

"Those are drastic words, little one. What does this man mean to you that you’d turn against your own kind?"

Helen raised a hand and placed it on his cheek. She turned slightly in his arms, pressing her face against his.

"He’s my father," she finally said. "Please, he won’t hurt you."

"Your father? But you genuinely care for him. So it wasn’t just some… assault..."

"They were married, my parents. In love."

"Were."

"He had nothing to do with it. Please, I just need a little help, and we’ll leave. Don’t harm him. He’s my father."

A silence fell. Not true silence, of course. You could hear the breathing of dozens and dozens of elves for starters, the creaking of branches, the wind whistling through the trees. It wasn’t true silence, obviously. But what silence ever was?

"Fine, I’ll accept it," said the elf woman, who seemed to be in charge after an agonizingly tense moment. "You genuinely care for him, little one. I have no doubt about that. But I’ve seen this before. Poor little ones brainwashed easily because they never had contact with their mother, or because the mother herself was enslaved in mind and body. You might have been deceived, little one. But I also see the way that man looks at you. So fine. I’ll accept it. It seems he really is your father."

The elf turned away.

"Follow me."

The "whatever-their-name-is" tribe lived deep in the forest. Of course, they did. In a well-hidden place that could only be reached, or so it seemed, by taking a convoluted route and crossing a waterfall. It wasn’t exactly the first spot humans would think to search. It wasn’t a good sign that the tribe felt the need to hide like that, though at the same time, they’d chosen a location relatively close to other towns and cities.

Anyway, what worried Max most was making that trek while carrying Helen. One of the many elf women had offered to take her, but Helen had flatly refused. Naturally. Besides the obvious reasons, if they took her out of his arms, they might decide to kill him, so it was better this way.

"I’ve never met a human like you," Silvania said. "There are, of course, people who tolerate us. I wouldn’t say it’s impossible to make friends with a human, but that look in your eyes…"

"The shape of the ears, the customs, the traditions," Max replied, mostly to brush it off. "What separates us is so little, yet people insist on making it such a big deal. Besides, she’s my daughter."

Helen blushed all the way to the tips of her ears. Even if she grew tired of her old man someday... he thought, knowing full well he probably sounded like the kid he was. Mature or not, I’d do anything for her. After all, she’s my little girl and the only thing I have left of…

He hugged Helen tighter against his chest.

"Yes, I understand," Silvania said. "That’s how things should be, but it’s not so easy to believe in ideals when you spend your life dealing with people who seem determined to prove you wrong. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yeah, of course. There’s still a long way to go."

He offered no further comment. Probably for the best; better to walk in silence. He didn’t want to risk saying the wrong thing. Surrounded by so many elves, maybe he could make it out alive even in the worst-case scenario. It’s not like he had to kill them all, just escape—survive to fight another day. Even so, he didn’t like his chances—or Helen’s, for that matter. And if news of something like this spread, no other elf tribes would likely take them in either. This was too important; he couldn’t mess it up.

"That’s the healer’s building," Silvania said, pointing with a finger.

It was a treehouse—literally, as it seemed to be integrated into the tree itself.

"Thanks," Max said and headed toward the door. Even then, Silvania stayed close behind, not asking questions, as if convinced he’d start killing and pillaging the moment she took her eyes off him. Judging by the many gazes pinned on him and the general atmosphere, she wasn’t the only one.

"Lorian," the elf woman called out as they entered. She led him to a room behind silk curtains. It didn’t look particularly impressive or sterile enough for medical procedures, but of course, it was a magical problem, and presumably, a mage would handle it.

Max didn’t hesitate to clear off all the junk on the single table to make space for Helen. He set her down carefully and impulsively kissed her forehead. He felt a flicker of relief just seeing her smile in response. She had a beautiful smile; the world should give her more reasons to show it.

"Yes, yes, what is it?"

Another person entered the room. From the name and the sound of the voice, Max had assumed Lorian would be another elf woman, but he was completely wrong. The Adam’s apple was a pretty clear giveaway.

"Oh, a human. Well, that’s something you don’t see every day."

"Help her. Now."

Max hadn’t forgotten what Ronan had said while choking Helen—that for a supposedly peaceful people, they had a strong attachment to the god of war.

Helen had saved his ass by saying he was her father, but she hadn’t mentioned that he was also the champion of none other than Ares himself. There was a good reason for that. It wasn’t the time or place to bring it up, so he decided to keep it to himself for now, though it might come in handy for making them follow his orders later.

"Hey, all right, all right," Lorian said. "I didn’t mean anything by it."

Lorian approached the table, hands stuffed in his pockets.

"You don’t look too great. How long have you been like this?"

"A couple of days."

"How did you get so drained?"

"Does that matter?" Max interjected. "You’re here to heal her, not interrogate her. Hurry up!"

Lorian raised an eyebrow.

Max knew he was being a bit of an idiot, speaking so disrespectfully in someone else’s home, in the middle of enemy territory no less, but he couldn’t help it. He was overwhelmed. He was so scared.

Helen had said there was no danger of death. Almost none. But she could have been telling him what he wanted to hear, lying for his own good. It wouldn’t be surprising. And the risk of her losing her magical abilities was just as bad. At least she’d be alive, but he wouldn’t be able to bring her along into dangerous situations anymore. He was already being irresponsible, taking a child with him. It was irresponsible even if she could defend herself. Dragging along a helpless child would be unforgivable.

"Well," Lorian finally said, ignoring him, "this shouldn’t be a big problem. Kid, close your eyes and focus on your magical energy. You’ve stirred up quite a mess in there. Yeah, I can feel it. There are a lot of cracks, but if you give me a little help, we can work together to put everything back in place. You’ll be fine before you know it. Okay, sweetie?"

Max crossed his arms. He stood watching with his heart in his throat. Everything should be fine now, but he just couldn’t stop being this kind of person.