A Short Story from the “Gifted Cycle” by A.B. Timothy
Richmond, Bodhi, brothers until the very end. One, a stalwart protector of the old crown, a five-century-old monarch, and the traditions she represented; the other, a newly enthroned king of a rebellious union of principalities. There, on the fields of their childhood, nestled between the hills of the Queen’s Spine Mountains of Terra Prima, they stood some hundred feet apart from one another. There along those same hills they had played, they had laughed, they had discussed the mysteries of their reality, and so much more. Now they would have one final discussion, one final battle, though this time, their swords would be very real.
The wind rushed through the grass blades, the sun illumined the field of battle without any needless heat, and the birds had taken up their song, far off, once again. The wind stopped, the sun froze, and the birds went silent as Richmond drew his sword. A heartbeat later, Bodhi had his own blade in his hand. Perfectly matched in their speed, they meet at the heart of the battlefield.
They danced… like the days when the children would dance together to the sound of the birds in the trees, but there was no music to this dance, other than the music of steel meeting steel.
“She loves you… You know.” Richmond’s voice was calm and empathetic to his brother. A frozen stream of white puffed off his tear duct. Richmond watched at least three of the same form around his brother as they danced.
“I know,” Bodhi said, his voice equally calm and empathetic.
“Then why do you not go to her? Be with her? End this war?” Richmond asked.
“My people need me more than I need to be romantically fulfilled by a Terran queen.” Bodhi’s sword sounded on Richmond’s.
“They need you to kill her?” Richmond’s voice rose in offense, the first sign of any emotion in this dance.
“Or her champion… they need me to be the king they crowned, they need a ruler who will put everything he holds dear on the line for his people.”
“Even your own blood?” The double meaning of Richmond’s word caused the first slip in his brother’s guard in the dance that persisted for three minutes. Bodhi caught the slip, and Richmond was only able to scar his cheek with a glancing blow. Taking advantage of this action, which seemed a mistake, would prove fatal for the twenty-year-old swordsman, however, as he felt, between the fourth and fifth ribs, a cold edge of steel enter his chest.
“For my children, I would do anything.” They both sped up to twice as fast as either of them ever had, when Richmond fell to the floor. Blood did not flow; they were in the space between heartbeats, even a beat of their own hearts.
“You have slain me… my brother, but stay with me a while in this place between and hear my heart, hear your brother,” Richmond’s voice was openly sorrowful now, “please.”
“I will stay with you here, for as long as you desire it of me, Richmond.” Bodhi’s voice was stronger than his brother’s, only bolstered, however, by victory.
“Then help me stand and let us dance on the lake of our youth, once again.” Richmond reached up his arm to his brother, who stepped back and hoisted him from the ground. The pair walked south now, away from the heart of death. This was the ultimate fate of their kind: to live the moment of death for all eternity, until they accepted their death.
The pair found their way to the small lake, which had now been converted into a field hospital for the battle, but with the gifts of their time, there was very little blood seeping into the water. Bodhi and Richmond took to stepping across the lake, like they had done in their youth after discovering what they really were. There, they relived memories and danced across the motionless waves of the lake to a music of their own creation, laughing at jokes heard only by themselves and the creator.
Then they rested with their backs propped up by a tree, both picking at the grass beneath them with their eyes afar off.
“What about that tree?” Richmond asked.
“Oh, the tree where Shona and I kissed… that must have been a lifetime ago,” Bodhi remembered.
“It only feels like a lifetime to us, Bodhi, remember.”
“Ha, yeah, you’re probably right.”
“Whatever happened to you two?” Richmond asked.
“I went off to the army, and she didn’t like that much. She knew about our powers, but she thought she’d never see me again once the government could do its tests. ‘I’d be too important,’ she’d say, ironic. She was right, for all the wrong reasons. I never went back to her, not due to import, but because I was smitten with the empress… then you joined up with me because of your own… gifts. The rest is history.”
“So what happened to us?”
“I’ll chalk the memory loss up to your condition.”
“Humor a dying man, will you?”
“They killed your wife and children… Richy, they killed ‘em dead, ordered you to do it with your own ship.”
“I remember, but duty comes first…”
“Yeah, that’s what you said four years ago.”
“They ordered you to kill your brother… kill ‘em dead, ordered you to do it with your own sword.”
“Oh, come on, Richy, that’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?” There was a silence that stretched several moments; Richmond broke the silence with a confession. “I love you, Bodhi. You held my heart in your hand our whole childhood, you were my inspiration, my role model, after our father died.”
“I can’t even cry in your death moment,” Bodhi’s voice choked with sobs, “so what are you trying to prove, Richy?”
“I forgive you, Bodhi. I can’t blame you for coming to a conclusion I came to years before. I’m only sorry it took you this long to come to it. How about a pact with your dying brother, hmm? Like a dying wish?”
“What is it, Richy?” He instinctively shoved away the absent tears from his eyes. “In the name of the empress, if it is in my power, I will grant it.”
“End this war… stop the bloodshed, make peace with our queen.” Richmond’s own words were full of sobs now.
“Richy, I can’t—”
“I don’t mean submit to her authority, I only mean make peace.”
“I promise…” He leaned over and hugged his brother on the other side of the tree they had been resting against. “I swear I will see this bloodshed brought to an end, so no brother will ever again have to kill their kin… not while I live.”
“Good… now, I’m ready to go now…” Richmond’s voice was weak and close to giving up, “pull this sword out and… hold me, bubba, please?”
Bodhi could deny his brother nothing now. He stood and walked to his brother’s side of the tree and pulled the sword out, shrinking it once again and putting it on his belt. He fell to his knees and took his brother into his arms and began to sob, kissing his brother’s forehead again and again. “I love you, Richy… I’m so sorry.”
“Know this as I fade now, Bubba… you are forgiven… may you find shelter in her light.” Richmond’s eyes filled first with little white stems of steam, then tears as his heart began to beat again. Bodhi sat there, rocking his brother back and forth, sobbing as he felt the lifeblood pour out of him and stain the grass.
Near a different tree, a line of black was cut in the grass as a split in reality solidified above it. Out from it stepped Her Majesty, Lady Sal of Terra. Her white gloved hand stretched out to Bodhi… “Let us fulfill your brother’s final wish, my lord, let us end this shedding of blood.”
Richmond’s Bubba did not respond; instead, he sat cradling his brother and sobbing into his corpse for an eternity. It took Bodhi much longer to accept his brother’s death.
