“Do you yield!?”

“Never! Do you yield!?”

“Never!”

The siblings smacked sticks aggressively, but aimlessly. They swung at air and their sticks just so happened to collide. The cyclopean home was kept warm from the weather by the fire at its centre, over which the mother and father stirred and made their stew.

The two chased each other around the fire, hopping and skipping and hacking at air. They stopped every few steps and bounds to tap sticks again before continuing their chase, laughing all the way.

“Ilikai! Talikai! Stop playing around the fire!” the father yelled, “Go outside if you want to be so wild.”

“Do not go outside! It is freezing,” the mother yelled, “We’ve had enough cold illness in this house for a good long time.”

“Then stop playing altogether. Give me those sticks!” He put the knife aside and held out his hand. The two frustratedly approached their father and handed him their imaginary swords. “Go find your brother. Tell him supper is almost ready.”

The two ran outside, letting in a slight breeze. In no time they heard the noise the twins made, as annoying as possible, to get their brother’s attention.

“One was enough,” the father said.

“We agreed on two. The third one came with the second, unfortunately,” the mother responded.

“Oh, if only I weren’t so fertile.”

“Oy.”

The door swung open and a cold wind came in and dimmed the fire. The twins ran in giggling, followed by their older cousin, Ama. She gently closed the door behind her. “Has anybody seen Matthis?” she asked in a panic, “I haven’t seen him since noon.”

“Is he not playing by the lake again?” the mother asked.

“That was the first place I checked! I’ve been all around the isle. He’s nowhere.”

“Oh, calm yourself. I’m sure he’ll show up in the most convenient way possible.”

“Oh, dear. But the snow, aunt Talia. He could be lost! Maybe he’s hurt.”

“I’m sure Arthur will take care of him.”

Ama stared at her aunt in disgust.

“Talia, please. Don’t encourage the child’s delusions,” the father said.

“Thank you, uncle Ilias! Arthur is­—”

The door swung open and a strong gust blew in, killing the fire. “Where are they?” the eldest child. He slammed the door behind him and marched through the kitchen.

“Oh, for blight’s sake! What now?” the mother yelled.

“They threw a rock into the tree house and shattered my wrist sling!” he yelled back.

“Don’t make it so fragile, then,” the father said.

“I want to get steel parts! But you never let me leave the isle so I have to carve wood!” He marched through the kitchen to the room of the twins. “Ilikai! Talikai!”

“Talil, you wouldn’t be able to afford the parts. Nor would you be able to survive on your own going out that way.”

Talil quickly turned from the room and looked at his father. “Then come with me! When I get there, I can find work!”

“I can’t just very well pack up and leave so you can get parts for toys, Talil! Now be helpful and help Ama find her brother.”

“What am I supposed to do? She knows the island as well as I do.”

“Go up in your tree house and see if you can find anything.”

Talil sighed and walked for the door. “My tools are just toys but lo and behold the treehouse is good for finding my deluded baby cousin.”

Ilias sighed and looked at Talia who gave a sympathetic shrug and smirk.

Talil opened the door and looked straight down. A small figure the height of his hip looked up at him, bundled in layers of clothes with only his eyes showing.

“I have flint,” Matthis said, his mouth muffled by the layers of clothes.

“Found him,” Talil said and pulled Matthis in by the hood before closing the door and leaving for his room.

“There you are!” Ama said and ran to him. She brushed the snow off of him, pulled his hood back and then started to smack his cheek until it turned red. “You do not stay out this late, Matthis!”

“Okay,” he said, “I have flint.”

“Why are you wearing so much clothes?”

“Arthur said there was going to be a snow storm today.”

“Oy.”

Matthis waddled to his uncle, took out a piece of flint and held it up to him. “I have flint.”

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

Ilias furrowed his brows at Matthis. “What do I need flint for?”

Matthis put his hands at his side. “The wind killed the fire. The stew is cold. You lost your flint.”

“I did not lose my flint,” Ilias said and laughed. He patted the pocket on his leather apron, furrowed his brows again, looked inside the pocket, looked around him and then looked at Matthis.

Matthis raised his hand again, presenting his precious little grey stone. “I have flint.”

Ilias took the flint cautiously. Matthis stared at him. “… Thank you, Matthis.”

Matthis turned and left for the room he shared with the twins. Talia laughed quietly and Ilias looked at Ama.

“Nobody in my family, including my sister, had the discomforting aura of this child. This must be from your father’s side of the family.”

Ama shrugged and left for her room.

With the fire relit by the flint that Matthis had given him, Ilias warmed the stew. He and Talia added the final fillings and shortly after, they gathered the household around the fire for supper. Ilikai and Talikai, being the competitors that they were, made a game of who could finish their meal first. Talil stayed quiet and kept his eyes on his bowl, inspecting every ingredient and taking his time.

Talia and Ilias spoke to each other, Ama politely adding when she had something to say. Matthis only spoke when spoken to, and he only scooped from his bowl when Ama did.

“I have to leave to trade with one of the tribes,” Ilias said, “I received a note from some of the villagers saying that they’re having a pest problem.”

“We could go help them ourselves,” Talia said.

“We could. I just think it’d be better if we used repellants. For us too. Ensure a safe area rather than having to shift patrols.”

Talia looked at Matthis, who watched Ama to see when she ate.

“Besides, we have ourselves to take care of. We can’t protect a village. And I don’t want any of them volunteering for patrols. It’s a good way to get villagers killed.”

“Could you not train them?” Ama asked. “Or at least train them enough to qualify for Beast Fighter trials. I heard many of them would like to do it.”

“Possibly.”

“Where were you today, Matthis?” Talia asked.

Talil looked up.

Matthis froze. “… At the church,” he said.

“Oy,” Ilias said.

“You’re going to get yourself hurt, Matthis!” Ama said.

“Okay,” he responded before taking his own independent spoonful of stew.

“Why did Arthur take you there?” Talia asked.

Ama, Ilias and Talil all looked at her. The twins kept rushing through their food.

Matthis shrugged.

“Is he looking for something?”

“… He likes it.”

“Why?”

“… He says it’s special.”

“What does Arthur do there?”

“Aunty Talia, please stop,” Ama said.

“No, I think it’s time we learnt more about Arthur.”

“Arthur isn’t real,” Ilias said.

“Maybe not in a way that we understand.”

“Arthur isn’t real in any way!” Ama yelled.

“We won’t be able to understand Matthis if we never accept Arthur as something!”

Talil held his bowl up to his mouth and drank what was left. He quickly left the table before things got any louder and left the house. He hauled his feet through the heavy snow. He liked the cold temperature, but hated the inconveniences that the weather brought. He made his way to the side of the house, where the tree was, and climbed up the ladder that he’d nailed to it.

The treehouse, being as open to the elements as it was, kept most other people out. The first thing anybody did when reaching the top of the ladder was complain about how cold it was. Talil walked to his desk. A square hole in the wall above it overlooked many of the shattered isles.

He sat down and looked at his wrist sling, which was now in two pieces. A part of him blamed his siblings for their reckless and careless stupidity. A part of him blamed his father for not letting or helping him go to a settlement for better parts. A part of him blamed himself for not making it stronger in the first place.

He’d spent the day making it. He considered going out to find some new wood, but he was tired. He leaned back in his chair and looked out of the window. This wasn’t only a workspace. Sometimes it was just a place to rest. Watching the snow fall past like sand through the hourglass put him at ease. He stared at the empty horizon, the ambient sight of the snow slowly making his eyelids heavy.

He heard shuffling behind him and looked over his shoulder.

Matthis slowly came up the ladder, rung by rung, bundled once again in many fabrics. Talil watched him with a raised brow. Matthis got into the treehouse and his small hand reached deep into his pocket. Talil lost interest and looked back at the snow.

He listened to Matthis’ footsteps come closer. “I have a part,” he said.

Talil looked at him. Resting in Matthis’ open palm was a wishbone shaped piece of steel. Talil dropped off his chair to his knees to look at it, almost headbutting Matthis. “Where did you get this?” he asked.

“The metal grave.”

Talil looked at him. “You went to the metal grave?”

Matthis nodded.

“Is that where you were today?”

He nodded again.

“Matthis, you lied to mother and father.”

“Okay.”

Talil stared at Matthis in disbelief, then looked at the piece of steel and politely took it from him. It was shaped like a wishbone, but it had hard, geometric edges like as if it had been built from steel cubes.

“Matthis… How were you able to find your way around? How did you not get hurt?”

“Arthur told me where to go.”

“Arthur isn’t real.”

“Okay.”

Talil frowned at Matthis, then looked at the part. “Thank you, Matthis,” he said.

Matthis turned around and walked for the ladder.

Talil stood up, still in grateful awe of the part, turning it over in his hands to see it from every angle. Just as he was about to sit down, a cold fear pierced his heart and he jumped so far back that he landed on the table and almost fell out of the window.

He stared at Matthis.

Matthis stared back at him for a moment, then continued down the ladder.

… He swore he saw it. On the periphery of his vision, he saw a shadow with red eyes beside the doorway.

Talil got off the table and slowly walked to the ladder. He kept away from the side of the doorway where it was standing. He looked down. Matthis reached the bottom and looked up at him. He waved. Talil waved back.

Matthis turned around and waddled through the snow back to the house.