“You aren’t coming,” Aedin said, feigning an air of certainty as he walked out of the house. He knew his bluff was a long shot. It wasn’t like he could really force his brother to listen. He could give him another speech about spending his time wisely by preparing himself for a better future, but the impact of those lectures had recently weaned. Not to mention, Aedin annoyed himself with those talks more than anyone else as of late.
“It’s interesting that you think you can keep barking orders like this,” Aeris said, following him through the door and into the cool morning air. Aedin knew Aeris could be remarkably stubborn when he set his mind to it, and, in this instance, it seemed he was setting to it every inch of his waking mind that he could spare.
“You are my brother, not my father, and I don’t need your permission to walk into the forest,” he continued. “And I don’t really see what you could do if I just decided I wanted to drop out of these ridiculous classes.”
Aeris had all the haughtiness entitled to a 16-year-old, and although he was about six years younger than Aedin, Aeris was quickly catching up to his own stature, something Aeris made sure to emphasize as he moved forward to protest. Aedin again noticed the first signs of a beard were beginning to show themselves on his sibling’s face, a development Aedin had lightheartedly mocked. Like always, the silver hair on the top of Aeris’ head was unkempt. The strong autumn breeze exacerbated the problem even further.
Aedin let out a long sigh, choosing not to mention the “dress and decorum” mandate he was supposed to be abiding by at Lyceum, and made his way to the small wooden shed outside their house where he stored his equipment.
“I really don’t want to get into this again, Aeris,” Aedin pleaded. After removing a plank from the front latches and opening the rickety wooden doors wide open, he grabbed a spear from a shelf above the entry and bought himself a moment by pretending to examine its condition.
He had purchased the spear last year for a substantial sum, more than he really had to spare, and it had already amassed a fair amount of wear and tear. The length of the handle, made of hardy Verdantian lumber, had several gashes and scrapes throughout its length. The metal that made up the serrated edges of the blade extended down the span of the entire shaft, but where it was once at a mirror-polish, it now had a dark, murky patina. It might be worn more than usual, but as far as Aedin was concerned, so was he, and the blade was still plenty reliable.
“You’ll only slow me down,” Aedin finally added, pretending not to notice the wince on Aeris’ face as he snapped his response. “And in case you haven’t noticed our current state, we haven’t exactly brought in much in the last few weeks. I need to go and focus on the job. I won’t have time to play teacher.”
His accusation fell on heavy silence. He had hit a nerve, and it only took a moment for Aedin to regret his words. Aeris forced his head high before finally turning heel and walking back toward their home. After half a dozen steps, made significantly more dramatic from the crunching of dry foliage beneath his boot, he turned back. He could see his brother’s face red with indignation.
“It’s been years since you’ve had to teach me anything about the forests,” Aeris shot back. “And, judging by our current state, you might actually benefit from sending me instead. Otherwise, we might find ourselves starving through the coming frost. Why don’t you go sit tight up at the Lyceum instead, and I’ll take it from here. You know, to make sure we can actually eat more than grains this week, brother.”
Aedin knew his brother was digging, looking for a way to reciprocate the slight to his ego—and he had succeeded. For close to a year now, he had been tracking game for long, grueling hours in all types of weather. His excursions often took him away for days at a time, and the efforts had plenty of an effect on his body. Aside from the scrapes, gashes, bruises, fractures, and broken bones, he could feel the weight of the last few years on his mind, all to very little success and nothing close to resembling abundance.
All of this just to keep their family fed and to pay for the enrollment fees at Lyceum, an educational facility run by the kingdom of Althalos. A few years ago, Althalos started offering to train people in distant lands to work as officers within their borders. Their regimen would teach them Althalite culture and teach them to deepen their bonds with the Tether. Upon graduations, attendees were offered roles within Althalos that came with a healthy stipend and more stability than most could find in places like Somnare, which had much less infrastructure and wealth than the larger kingdoms.
“That’s enough, Aeris.” The voice came from Eloric, Aedin’s second-born brother, who was crossing the threshold of their house. Eloric was the thinnest of the three and stood eye level with him. Like all people in Somnare, his hair and eyes were bright silver.
“We are going to Lyceum, and that’s the end of it,” Eldin said, looking directly into Aeris’s gaze. “None of us have the patience to have this fight again. You should be grateful that he has taken care of our family as he has.”
Stark of a command it was, it didn’t come quick enough to prevent Aedin’s temper from flaring. But again, Eloric's voice snapped quickly as he shot a look at Aedin. “And you need to stop being such an ass about everything. He wants to help, that’s all. Don’t insult his capabilities. His ego is just about as fragile as yours.”
For a brief moment, Aedin looked intently at Eloric. The words escaped his mouth in such a matter-of-fact tone it seemed rehearsed, practiced. He considered swiftly punching him in the gut, until he remembered that he didn’t have time for the brawl that would ensue. He needed to get moving quickly; Breka, a tracker, hide tanner, and childhood friend, promised to show him the start of a fresh visera trail she found not far from her shop in town. If he could track it down and kill it, the parts would sell for enough to cover necessities for the next few months—if they rationed smartly.
“Sorry, Aeris,” Aedin said, swallowing his irritation and pride with a hefty dose of impatience. “Let’s get through the week, and if you still want to join, maybe we can go tracking together when you have a rest day from lessons. I could use the help, if I am being honest, but I don’t want you missing any more days. We are spending a lot on your spot at Lyceum, and I want you to get the most out of it.”
Aedin and Eloric waited for Aeris’ response. They were attuned to their youngest brother’s disposition, and both could feel the stirrings of further rebellion. But, a deep sigh later, Aeris responded simply, “Fine. We best be off then, Eloric. I know how you hate being late.”
The middle brother rolled his eyes. The pair of them walked past Aedin on their way out, but not before he had a chance to put his arm up to Aeris’ shoulder. “I am sorry, Aeris,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said what I did.” He knew Aeris wouldn’t budge now. He was too proud to get over his feelings so quickly, but he still didn’t want to send him off without making amends.
“Whatever you say, brother,” Aeris said, pushing his fist softly into his chest. “Just get something big today. If I have to eat bland mill again tonight I will lance that fancy spear of yours through my own heart.”
They both chuckled before Eloric and Aeris set off. Aedin wasted no time in getting his day started now that he didn’t have siblings to mettle with. He grabbed his usual assortment of tracking gear before heading into the busier part of town to find Breka. As he made his way toward the open road, he heard the door to his house open loudly behind him.
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
“You shouldn’t be so tough on him, you know,” the woman said, with a softness that didn’t match her abrupt exit. Her hair is also silver, but it is even more unkempt than Aeris’, another fact Aedin ultimately decided against pointing out. She is a couple inches shorter than him, and as she steps closer, arms folded deeply into one another, she speaks to him again. “All you Vael’Serith boys have is each other when I am gone.”
He held back a flood of built-up resentment for the way “Vael’Serith boys” rolled off her tongue, as though she and them were separate. As though, for years, Aedin hadn’t had to support himself, his mother, and his brothers alone. The very last piece of advice he would ever want to receive would be her opinions on how to maintain a family. After all, after their father’s death, her mind unraveled, and she was largely unable to deal with any level of responsibility for too long. A fact that he was sympathetic to, even if he wasn’t entirely forgiving.
“I appreciate the advice, mother,” he said. “But I don’t think anything is happening to you anytime soon, so I’ll keep being tough on him. Someone has to.” Aedin did his best to find grace for her, but in moments like this one, his mother seemed miraculously coherent, and it made it difficult to remember that she was unwell. “I know you are in a hurry, so I won’t keep you, but both your brothers are also trying very hard, like you are,” she said. “Just… try not to lose sight of that in the long run, if you can help it.”
Sure, no problem, Aelaric thought to himself, putting up a single hand lazily to wave goodbye. He didn’t look back at her as made way, hiding a clenched fist in his pocket as he did his best to focus on the stone path before him.
His nerves settled as he walked the path to town. It was a short travel to Breka’s shop, but he always left a little earlier than he needed to afford himself a slower pace. The road followed the Illasi, a river that flowed through most Somnare settlements. Where he lived, the river was slow moving, calm, and full of fauna and wildlife making their preparations for the winter.
All of the trees in the forest had already turned for the year, moving from their usual dark green to beautiful shades of orange and yellow. One type of tree in particular though, the Waterwoods that lined the riverbank, always caught the lion’s share of his admiration. Its leaves didn’t turn yellow or orange like all the other varieties, but instead, a deep, rich rose. These leaves would eventually fall into the river and float along the current. Watching their quiet trajectory as they navigated the Illasi calmed him.
As he continued on the cobblestone path, he came up on his favorite tree just a few paces from town. When any Waterwood reaches a certain age, its roots expand directly into the river. A small species of fish known as Summerscales nest in the ball of roots that form.
In the summertime, schools of these fish would reflect light from the sun onto passersby. This Waterwood, which was half vested in the soil and half vested in the river, thinly teetering the line between thriving and ruin, had the largest school of Summerscales this season. As he came up to the tree's edge, he could see hundreds of these little fish darting around in quick sudden movements in the water.
How does a fish that draws so much attention to itself survive the Illasi? He wondered. As he moved to get a closer look at the swarm beneath the water, something in the treeline caught his eye...something huge, but between the shine of the Summerscales and the dark shadows cast by forest, he couldn’t quite make it out. He took a step back, just as a familiar voice calling out to him.
“Why are you wasting time staring at fish again?” a woman yelled out. Startled, Aedin looked up to meet her eyes, nearly losing his footing and falling into the school of Summerscales. When he looked back into the shadows, the outline he thought he had made out was gone.
The woman’s face was soft and round, and she was donned entirely in dark leathers. The top of her silver incandescent hair was worked into two braids that wrapped horizontally around her head, and the rest, which was always left in its natural curls, waved freely in the fall breeze. It took him only a second to recognize her signature scowl of disapproval as he stabilized his footing.
“You know how quickly a visera moves,” Breka yelled. “You should have been here at dawn.”
“Right, sorry,” Aedin responded, his demeanor shifting entirely. “Eventful morning.”
He could feel the irritation from the morning’s argument resurfacing, and Breka knew him well enough to give him a moment or two before inquiring any further.
“Adisa... or Aeris?” Breka asked simply, fully aware that there were only two people right now who could be responsible for Aedin’s sour demeanor: his mom or his brother.
Since they were kids, Breka had listened to all of Aedin’s familial struggles. She was there for him and his brothers when his father died, and she had continued to be his best friend well into adulthood. Talking about his woes wasn’t something that came naturally to him, and it definitely wasn’t something he wanted to burden his brothers with when they should be focused on Lyceum. But, Breka was different; he always appreciated that she listened without ever once pitying him or offering charity. Though, he was certain she would give it, if he ever asked.
“Aeris, again,” he said. “If Eloric hadn’t stepped in this time, I’d probably barely be leaving. Or still there trading blows with him.”
“I’d hate to see that happen,” Breka said, stepping up and putting her hand on his back as she pretended to size him up. “He has grown completely massive. I am not sure that fight favors you anymore.”
“No kidding,” he said, laughing and nodding along. “When he figures that out, I’ll really have no way to keep him at Lyceum.”
Breka dropped her scowl, and tilted her head to meet his downward-facing eyes. “I am sure he already realizes it,” she said. “And he doesn’t listen to you because he thinks you can overpower him. He listens to you because he respects you—more than you probably realize. Not sure how many times I need to tell you that for you to get it through your thick skull.”
“He told me today he should go tracking instead of me,” Aedin said curtly, dismissing her jab and letting himself fall into the grass beneath the Waterwood. “So that our family could actually eat.”
“I never said he wasn’t an ass,” Breka quipped back, finding a seat next to him in the grass. “But, he loves you. He is only 16 after all, and with brothers like you and Eloric, thick skin is a necessary tool for survival.”
She rested her head on his shoulder, and he focused his gaze back on the school of Summerscales beneath the roots. Usually, these fights didn’t get under his skin this much, but Aeris’ insults had a deadly aim this time around; what if he couldn’t bring anything back today, or tomorrow, or the next day? What would happen to his family, their future, if he missed the Lyceum’s dues? Would they be forced to keep living as they have been? Or worse?
“It’s difficult enough keeping up with Eloric,” he responded, doing his best to snap himself out of the spiral. “The last thing I need is another person pushing me to my limits. I am already stretched so thin trying to keep our bare necessities figured out. I wish he would just make this easier for all of us and stop fighting me so much.”
Breka raised her head to look at him. Her hand found his chin, which she used to direct his eyes directly at hers. “You aren’t going to hit your limit anytime soon. And your family isn’t going to starve. You’ll find a way to continue to cover the Lyceum’s predatory fees, and we will all be saved from the raging storm of depression you are conjuring.”
She lifted herself up gracefully from the grass and made her way back to the road, careful to avoid stepping on the Mosspoppies that were blooming in small bunches throughout the grass.
“Aeris is stubborn, hot-headed, and doesn’t like being told what to do,” Breka said, taking a step closer to the river. “But the reason you two don’t get along right now is because you are the exact same way. Unyielding, really, when your convictions are tested. Aeris is going down a path you never did, and he is going to struggle and want to quit. Don’t let him, but remember you’re his brother, not just his guardian, and the person he looks to for reassurance and validation the most.”
Aedin wanted to disagree with her. He wanted to tell her that he was too tired to teach a 16-year-old manners and responsibility when he struggled maintaining his own. That, though he would never really want it, he fantasized about a life where he didn’t have the responsibility shoved onto him. Then he felt overwhelmingly guilty for ever having the thought.
“Besides, limits are overrated,” Breka said, interrupting his self-pity and jolting back toward him, not stopping until she was inches away from him and eye level. “Now, do you want to sit here and keep whining about your life, or should we go hunt a visera?”