"What is your defense?"

"I didn't do anything! I-I'm just a history professor researching cultures in the area! Why are you doing this to me?!"

My brother, Deon, looks upon the man with disgust, as if he said something only an idiot could confidently utter. He strides toward the man's prison, a mature tree in the mountain forests surrounding our family's home and taps his lighter on the professor's cheek.

"You dare to come to this place, our kingdom, and lie on what our warriors have done for the people? We are the Legion of Cygnus; we have protected these hills and grand woods for centuries."

"L-Legion of Cygnus? That's who you lunatics are?! You haven't done a thing to protect the surrounding villages; you terrorize them and attack the sitting leadership whenever you get the chance. You're a menace!"

"Silence!"

My brother kicks the man's jaw with his steel-toed boot, spattering blood from the man's gums across the nearby trees. He was always touchy whenever someone disparaged the Legion. He had taken over when he was just 15 when our parents and most of our soldiers were killed by invaders. I was only 7. Over the following decade, he reformed the Legion with stronger warriors and led Cygnus' resurgence across the region. He's my hero, and he would never let another interloper threaten our family. Deon snaps his fingers and two soldiers stride to his side with large canisters in hand. They open the canisters and pour the contents over the tree. Deon clicks open his lighter and smirks at the professor, who's now shaking his head wildly.

"You can't do this! People will come to look for me! You can't escape forever, you psychos!"

"I'd be happy to see them try. Now die, heretic."

Deon throws the lighter at the tree and it instantly bursts into flames, with high-pitched screams mixing with the crackling of the bark.

"You three watch the tree. I'll take Kai back to base."

The other Cygnus bow and stand by the tree with pride, but I bristle as me and Deon walk back home. I understood we needed to honor our parents wish to continue the legacy of Cygnus, but couldn't we do it without so many explosions?

"Did you really have to do that? He didn't seem violent. Maybe if we had just taken his research and roughed him up a bit, that would've been-"

Deon stops and pulls me eye to eye. He only did this when he meant business, and I hated when he meant business.

"Do you want us to succeed? Do you want to help father's plans? Remember what he told me, brother: Protect the family, spread the way of our kingdom, and let the High One guide us. We can't upset father's spirit, and certainly not the High One, right?"

"R-right, but I thought the High One didn't like death..."

"Only when it is not necessary, but I assure you, it is necessary here. We are at war, and the enemy can never gain a foothold. I should know; I am the High One's ordained speaker. If anyone knows their orders, it's me."

I nod in agreement and continue walking, but I'm still not happy. Sure, I had been trained to work a gun and build a dead man's switch since dad was around. It was a source of pride for me, feeling their admiration, knowing I was helping the High One, but seeing the tools I made for fun being used like this... it didn't feel good. It didn't help that Deon's orders seemed to shift a lot. When he was happy and drinking with his girlfriend Leah, he would say the High One wanted us to celebrate our victories, even if we hadn't gone into battle for weeks. When he was with his wife Sasha, however, he always seemed meaner and wanted us to train, duel, and work the soil all night because we had upset the High One, but still, we had done nothing beforehand to warrant anger. I'm shaken out of my pondering when we reach our home: A palace designed in the ways of our ancestors with modern tools: massive turrets, strong walls and moats, and an intricate tunnel system beneath the complex for easy escapes. It was an exact model of our family's first home before we were attacked. I don't remember much, but Deon always reminds me: some other country's army came, swooped in, and blew it up, but Deon was able to find me and bring the survivors to this safehouse to start again. This army didn't even stay to help the villages or stop the fires the fighting caused; they just hopped on their plane and left. I must admit, the retelling of that story is the only time I feel a twinge of violence.

We enter the main hall and turn to the dining area for dinner. The food is already laid out for us so we simply sit and eat, nary a word shared between us until a messenger hands Deon an envelope. He opens it and nearly jumps out of his chair with excitement as he reads it.

"Tell the men to spread the word; if this is correct, we strike at night at the end of the week!"

The messenger bows and leaves to hand out the orders, but I'm confused. I didn't know Deon was waiting on any updates, especially anything pertaining to a larger attack.

"The end of the week? What's coming for us then, Deon? Are we in danger?"

"Far from it! It's the moment we've been waiting for: Retribution. The same unit that killed our parents like dogs is coming here for some sort of meeting. Our spies tapped into one of their secure lines, so we have every detail, including where and when the meeting will take place."

Deon gets up and walks over to me, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me somewhere between viciously and playfully.

"Saturday is the day you become a man, understood? You will finally take arms along your people and defend our way of life."

"W-What? But, I'm better suited for building things, maybe moral support..."

"Now is not the time for fear, Kai. You must ask the High One for the strength you need. And if you need a little more help... like I said, you are almost a man."

I sense the change in his tone. Usually, when he sounds like this, he calls for a few girls to entertain his best soldiers. I know I'm in no headspace to enjoy something like that, so I'm almost glad when he pulls out a small bag of greenish powder instead. He pours the powder into my hand and smiles.

"What will this do?"

"Open your eyes, brother. Devour it and sit amongst our birds, and perhaps you will gain clarity. I shall do the same in my own quarters."

Deon grabs another pouch and pours it directly into his mouth and nose before skipping toward his room. I'm apprehensive to indulge in the mixture, but Deon's never steered me wrong. Why start now? I cautiously lick the powder and swallow it with a hiss; it's bitter and tastes like wet socks, but I continue per my brother's orders. I then turn toward the opposite hallway and exit to the courtyard, where a massive cage sat, commanding awe from all who saw it. It was filled with creatures adorned with the most luminous feathers and curved, dazzling beaks, that flitted to and fro through the plants fitted to the metal floor. These birds brought my brother peace, but he'd never admit it; he always said the High One saw birds as holy, so Deon viewed the aviary as a temple he was obligated to protect. At first, I sit watching the birds, feeling no more clarity than what I usually sense when I enjoy the aviary, but suddenly it hits me: The world seems warped, sounds feel far away, and the birds... the birds are so pretty...

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

"Hello, birds, I am Kai. I'm the brother of the High One's prophet!"

The birds stare at me, confused as I start to sway around the courtyard, but when one of the hawks in the enclosure screeches, it almost sounds like he's saying 'who?'

"You know, Deon! The High One chose him after our parents' died. He understands his orders better than anyone."

The hawk continues to stare at me, but he's joined by a shimmering green duck, who now pipes in with a shrill 'how?'

"Well, he just does. He says he can't explain it because the High One is too complex for most mortals... although, if the High One wants everyone to follow him, it's strange only one prophet can understand him. And why is he always so violent?"

The duck repeats my 'why?' back to me, causing me to ponder a bit deeper.

"Well, it's weird; violence killed my father, his last prophet, but he could've stopped the violence himself by warning my father, or simply destroying the invaders before they attacked. Why command my brother to attack the unit, which probably has all different members by now, and not punish the actual perpetrators? My brother shouldn't want to fight these people... it feels icky."

The hawk and duck have now flown away, and their spot is filled with a bird I have never seen before: A massive beast with a long neck, a crown of thin feathers, and a brilliant plumage of green and red covering its body. It scratches under its wing before turning to stare at me and, this time in an extremely clear, human voice, ask me 'what to do?'

I turn to the side of the cage and see one of Deon's radio panels. They were all connected, so maybe I could find the soldiers' radio line and warn them, tell them not to come to the meeting. It might make my brother mad, make the High One furious, but it could also all be a test; finding peace within the fire, right? I could show everyone I have true wisdom, and maybe help the legion find peace. I bow in respect to the birds, thanking them for their guidance, and traipse over to the radio. I don't remember anything past grabbing the radio, finding the unfamiliar line and dialing, but as my eyes close and I sleep the rest of the night away next to the glorious cage in a pile of my own drool, I feel the clarity my brother spoke of. What I wake to is the exact opposite.

When my eyes stretch open at the sight of the morning sun, my nose is assaulted with ash while my ears are met with the pound of bullets. High-caliber, imploding bullets. My mind can't help but drift back to the memory of my parents as I shoot up from the floor and see the cage door flung open, the inhabitants' wings beating furiously as they make their escape, my brother encouraging them by waving his hands wildly, a pistol strapped to his hip. The minute I'm on my feet, he rushes over and pushes me back to the ground, pulling the gun from his hip and aiming at my forehead. I instantly panic, screaming at him to lower the weapon.

"Deon, what are you doing?! What's going on?!"

"Oh? You don't know? You're the one who called the enemy and gave away our location! I didn't spot what you had done until it was too late; they came half an hour ago in full force, surrounding the gates, and destroying the escape tunnels. We're trapped! What on earth would possess you betray your own brother?!"

"I-I thought it was a t-test. The powder gave me clarity; maybe the High One would want us to f-find a way to broker peace instead of fi-"

Deon cuts me off with a crack of his gun to my cheek, foam beginning to drip from his mouth.

"I should've never given you that shit. God, how much of an idiot are you? Actually, no, I'm the idiot. I should've told you this a while ago... There's no High One! At least, not for me."

I don't know what to process first: the fact my own brother had gotten so wrathful he'd assault me, the fact our home was burning around us, or the fact Deon was saying such insanity. I decided to start with the latter.

"No High One? That's ridiculous! W-what about Dad and Pop-Pop and-"

"This crap was real for them, sure, but I haven't heard a peep from any sky king since Dad died. All of this, the fighting, the bases, the women, it's all for power. Folks around here have believed the legend of Cygnus coming down from the clouds with a divine message for so long that they don't even question the so-called prophet because they need that validation so bad. Confirmation bias is the deadliest drug out there kid, and it's kept us living the high life for a decade, and now you've pissed all over it for a clean conscience!"

"It... It can't be a lie... how could you defile our father's dream like that?"

"Like I said, Kai, we had to survive somehow. Why not keep up the family trade and use the oldest trick in the book, right? It's the same story everywhere; everyone wants to think about something bigger and grander while they forget about what they can do to make the here and now better. Crappy, but insanely profitable."

I'm speechless. Deon had burned people alive, sent soldiers who believed they were divinely chosen to die and increasingly vicious ways, just to make a buck. And I never saw it. Instead, I went along with it until I ruined us. I'm so devastated, I don't see the taser whizzing by my head and taking down my brother. For a split second, I smile as he writhes on the floor in agony. All those lies, it's the least he deserves. However, he's still my brother, so I slide over to try and help, but I'm stopped by a heavy boot on my leg and the sound of a gun cocking behind my head. I turn in horror to face my new assaulter and see a burly man in camouflage pointing an assault rifle at me. I breathe heavily, staring back at him like he's a tiger and all I can do is stay still hoping he'd move pass me. He looks at me, then my brother, and laughs.

"I knew I recognized you kids. You're all grown up now it seems... You see, I was on the original team who stopped your crazy father. I was just a rookie back then; nice to see how it all comes full circle, albeit bloodier than what I'd expect."

The horror in my body is momentarily replaced with rage, but I know the slightest strike against the man, and I'd be a corpse. Instead, I try to sate the man's appetite for a hunt.

"I-I'm the one who called you. I warned you about the attack. Please, I beg of you, show us mercy!"

"Mercy? Kid, short of handing your brother over on a platter, there's no way you could've gotten out of this. You're just as deep in the shit as he is thanks to you hanging on to him like a rag doll at every one of his effigies and 'statement attacks.' Until you and your brother tell us what we need to know about your suppliers and associates in the area, you're going to the deepest hole we can find."

The man grabs me by my arm while two of his comrades take my brother. They walk us to a large helicopter outside the compound as dozens more soldiers take the rest of the Legion away, all of them staring at me with disgust and murderous intent, and each glare pushing more and more shame into my system. I couldn't possibly decipher what might happen to me and Deon; I had no idea who my brother communicated with, and Deon was too proud to tell any information for less than immunity, so it seemed clear we'd be kept someplace unspeakable for quite some time. Someplace not even the High One, whether he existed or not, could find us. As the helicopter doors close and we lift off, all I can do is stare at my brother's comatose body and offer a silent apology, tears streaming down my face and my thoughts racing. It's mostly garbled glimpses of what I could've done instead of calling the enemy to give them a way of escape, along with a newfound agreement in Deon's original plan to slaughter them like cattle, but one thought chimes above them all: I had sold out my family for my personal interpretation of a much larger, increasingly dangerous lie, and no one would ever know. They'd all just see the little zealot boy who fucked up, or a traitor against the almighty, never questioning the mission we followed. Somehow, the second group began to feel far more dangerous than the first. Worse still, another memory peeps into mind, of other countries and cultures where similar prophets enjoyed worship and gifts from their congregants... if my brother could bring hundreds, perhaps thousands, under his rule with no more than my father's words and a few parties and 'magic powders', what could one do with access to millions of dollars and people, all willing to do anything to prove their loyalty to a being they had never met?

How common was this phenomenon? How many people out there had done something and felt just as stupid as I do sitting in this transport? I couldn't bear to estimate, but I knew from news reports that had blared over once happy breakfasts with my family that there were plenty of groups just as ferocious as ours and with far more resources, their only credibility coming from much larger numbers. Some might question, like me, and find a piece of information that will change how they view their community forever, but most will just stay in their bubble, never questioning or prodding for more knowledge. And that, manipulated by the right people, could be more dangerous than any bomb or gun...