Edited by: bafflinghaze
It was unknown how long the two of them sat there, wrapped in a wool blanket together like a steam bun.
Aurelion was in tears, trying to hide his sobs by burying his face into the blanket. It took him great effort to keep his cries at bay. His lips still trembled despite his attempts to muffle the sounds. A few hiccups spilled out as a result.
Neo looked away.
He was uncomfortable seeing Aurelion cry.
The fat tears were dripping down from porcelain cheeks and tumbling out like pearls, making his brother look oddly younger. It was in the way his face crumpled into a feverish flush while his eyes were red-rimmed and bruised.
All the while, Neo was unable to properly comfort him as he thought back to the question he was asked.
“Why did you do it?”
In other words, “Why do you hate me?”
His brother would be met with disappointment if he were to tell him there was no reason at all for what he did.
It was never about Aurelion in the first place.
Rather, the problem had always been Neo.
No, Nazareth.
Neo.
Nazareth.
No! No… it was Neo.
Himself.
The blame laid with him.
He wasn’t ready for the world beyond the Lotus Garden. When mummy was taken away, and then he was no longer welcomed at the brothel, there was nothing left for him. The end of the world was upon him—everything was ripped away in a blink of an eye.
But then the day came for his father to bring him home. What a shame it was for the child he picked up to have already seen the darkest sides of humanity.
If not for his life in the Western Slums, would he have known anything else?
No. He was an example of human nature, and the thing with human nature was like a dandelion seed.
When given the opportunity to adapt, he spurned it selfishly. He refused to be anything else but the monster he created in his mind.
If he dug deep enough into his psyche and allowed his mind to flood with unwanted memories and their adjoining emotions, could he find the answer for his hatred there?
One should note Neo was not ignorant of the way Aurelion was becoming dependent on him.
He chose to remain silent about this for the sake of Aurelion’s dignity, and also because he enjoyed the feeling of being depended on.
However, it seemed many—including Aurelion—had started to forget what kind of person Neo used to be.
They forgot he was once the most possessive little shit anyone could ever have the misfortune of meeting.
After all, an Odum loved unconventionally.
Hatred and love were complicated and fickle things. They made people act on their most irrational instincts.
To Aurelion who loved their family, like they were his very soul, he was akin to a wolf protecting his territory.
But Nazareth only had so much love to give. When there was no more left, what else was he supposed to do but substitute Odum Love with Odum Hate?
He was no wolf, but a dragon who only knew how to hoard its treasures.
He could possess but never protect.
Neo never thought there would be a day he needed to steal from his own hoard, nor did he think he would have to fight himself for his younger brother.
(This wasn’t the first time he needed to tear himself apart for the ones he cherished.)
Nazareth.
Neo.
Nazareth—
Neo.
Naza—
Neo.
Neo knew it was time to talk.
Even if it meant those memories were a reminder of the life he once lived, they needed to walk down memory lane. After all, his little brother deserved to know.
“Aurelion…”
Beside him, Aurelion stifled another sob.
It was time Neo paid his dues.
Because…
“Come here.”
He loved his little brother so very much.
Even when he couldn’t.
—
Neo pulled the blanket over his head and guided Aurelion under.
He slowly drew his brother into a hug and felt the other freeze at his touch.
Aurelion didn’t move as Neo awkwardly stroked his head, an action reminiscent of those who once comforted him in a similar fashion.
Now he was applying what he learned to Aurelion because he was supposed to be the responsible adult.
It was his responsibility to do the one thing he failed to do long ago.
Communicate.
“Will you believe me if I tell you the truth?”
The words were said in a low voice, whispered gently as if coaxing a child.
Aurelion was never a vulnerable child.
He didn’t look like a vulnerable child.
He was always, in a way, the mature one.
The saner one.
The one who didn’t go around killing people and screwing up lives for no reason.
He was the epitome of a perfect heir. The perfect Odum. The child of Vespera and Gareth.
Even back then, in their first life, the boy was strong. He was treated with the utmost respect, not only due to his position but for his sense of duty and responsibility.
It would have been his job to reign in his useless older brother who caused nothing but trouble. If Nazareth lived long enough and had more time to make even more mistakes, then it was his brother who’d be blamed for his actions.
Those small shoulders were burdened with the legacy of the family the moment he was born. It was only natural for him to get used to the weight of the Odum name.
Everyone had expectations. They all imagined him to be great, to be powerful. There was no room for mistakes.
True to expectations, Aurelion was like the northern tundras, similar to the rest of his family.
The nature of an Odum was to be cool and calm in the face of everything but determined in the heart.
But…
Aurelion stared at him, his eyes wide and sapphire blue like the vast glistening ocean under a large moon. They were filled with disbelief.
To answer Neo’s question, he only nodded. He was silent, in fear he’d stutter over his words, or reveal another tear-filled hiccup.
Neo wordlessly tightened his arms around the younger.
“Where do I begin…”
The memories rolled in like a storm.
He beckoned them from his mind, imagined Nazareth crawling out from the depths, and felt as his mind palace whirled into chaos from within himself.
Aurelion, small as he looked all curled up in his arms, blinked.
Neo fought the urge to press their foreheads together.
Still a child.
He wondered if he had gone back further, would he be the doting brother Aurelion always wanted?
Aurelion was still a child when he killed him—
Perhaps his pause stretched longer than he expected. He was unknowingly rubbing circles on his brother’s back to ease his own nerves and fell back to his thoughts again.
“Aren’t you going to tell me, now?”
His little brother demanded, his voice rough from tears, but purposefully demanding and impatient to mask the trembling on his lips.
Neo huffed.
“Sixteen years ago, Father went into the Red Light District…”
—
Sixteen Years Ago, Spring
That year, the Polska Nation was invading.
Graduation was upon Gareth, and soon, he’ll be called to the battlefield. The rules put in place since the founding of the Empire stated that every noble over seventeen were required on the frontlines in times of war.
Everyone knew swords had no eyes. They did not differentiate friend from foe.
Gareth’s friends believed he needed to “live” and experience the pleasures of life before being sent to his death.
(Gareth refrained from telling his friends his chances of being placed in no man’s land were slim. The Imperial Family was already made aware he specialized in mana bombs and had no use in direct combat. However, he didn’t want to ruin their mood by awkwardly correcting them, so he didn’t say anything.)
This was why he soon found himself on the doorsteps of the renowned brothel house known as the Lotus Garden.
This was to be Gareth’s first (and last) visit.
The Lotus Garden was a place full of men and women, offering not just the flesh of their bodies, but their talents.
Poetry, dance, music, and song—and occasionally the flesh.
There were all types of pleasures the Garden offered.
Gareth brought enough money to pay for the best service from the Garden. In exchange, he was given the most desirable courtesan to entertain him with.
Alouysia Webbers was the jewel amongst flowers.
To have her serve even a single cup of wine amounted to a pocket of gold.
She had a talent for the lute and lyre, and none could compare to the way she sang and played.
When Gareth met her, he was a naive kid with no experience with the fairer sex.
One thought came to Alouysia’s mind.
He was quite cute.
In the luxurious room of the Lotus Garden’s most valuable jewel, surrounded by gold silk and brocade, the incense smoke covered the senses while two bodies became one.
—
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
“That…”
“Tfr.”
“Dea… ojatfg…”
“Tfr.”
“… Dea… ktja…?”
Indeed, his mother took their father’s virginity.
“Ktlr kjr yfobgf Zbatfg wfa Mjatfg,” Rfb ofia atf cffv ab mijglos.
Cegfilbc wjvf j ojmf, “P atlcx P oluegfv atja bea.”
Rfb aliafv tlr tfjv, “Cgf sbe ecmbwobgajyif klat atf abqlm bo rfz?”
Llr ygbatfg rajgfv ja tlw, “Rb boofcrf, ygbatfg, yea atf abqlm bo rfz jcv ojatfg jgf cba fzjmais rbwfatlcu P kjca ab tfjg lc vfajli.”
“Oh.”
Neo paused.
“That was how I was conceived—”
“Can we have a time skip?”
—
Everyone knew Nazareth was the son of a well-known courtesan.
Courtesan.
It was a sugar-coated word for whore.
He was the son of a whore, but some people in the aristocracy felt the word too vulgar for their gold-plated tongues.
The Lotus Garden was a high-end establishment, the crème de la crème of the Red Light District, but even that was not enough to escape the designation of a whore.
In the eyes of the nobles, a prostitute was a prostitute was a prostitute. There was no difference between a flower nurtured in the Garden and those belonging to lesser brothels and alleyways.
His mummy was a whore, Neo was often told.
A talented whore, yes.
But still a whore.
—
“I met a man who told me I looked like her.”
“When did that happen?”
“It was during the Winter Ball at the palace. About… seven years ago?”
“Did he know her?”
“He was one of her clients.”
“…”
“I met many of her clients during banquets.”
“…”
—
The Garden sold talents and only served noble clients, which might have made life easier for its workers.
But despite the refinery and luxury given to the workers, nothing was free to take.
The flowers in the Garden were often sold in shackles.
Only the most beautiful and talented were given to the Garden.
These children were offered the most decadent clothes and tutors.
Once they made their debut, they were often loved by many of the nobles.
This was a reward for being born poor but beautiful.
In return for these luxuries, the men and women there became indebted, their lives chained forever within the four golden walls of the Garden, never to leave until they drew their last breaths.
The price for all they were given was everything.
His mother had her music. She was a nightingale personified, and rarely sold her flesh.
She was beloved, even whilst pregnant with a child.
The only problem was…
She belonged to the Garden, but Nazareth was not, and since she didn’t want to sell him to the establishment, he received no benefit from the Garden and could only survive with whatever meager things she could get her hands on.
—
“But if everyone loved her so much, couldn’t she have sent them to buy clothes for you? Wasn’t she given gifts and favors?”
Aurelion had to interrupt for a moment because he couldn’t understand how his brother’s mother could be swimming in brocade, yet her own child was living worse than a dog.
Neo lowered his gaze and stared at the night pearl glowing faintly like a pulse.
“Everything my mother owned belonged to the Garden,” he spoke with a little emphasis. “The gifts from her clients were received by the Madam. Her clothes were loaned to her indefinitely until the day she died. As for food, they could only be served to the courtesans. I was prohibited from seeing my mother during meals.”
—
Some might call the beginning of his life miserable, but Neo begged to differ.
His mother tried her best. She loved him. What more was there to say?
By the time he was able to walk, his mother had stopped nursing, and he spent most of his days in the kitchen, away from the prying eyes of strangers as his mother worked. Sometimes, he would come out to the main entrance when the Madam was busy in the back so he could find food.
Neo remembered being hastily wrapped in silk by his mother’s friends. They would comb his hair, wipe his face and hands of dirt, and push him toward certain customers. He learned to bat his eyes similar to what his aunties and uncles often did in front of their clients, and there would be a flash of recognition in the customers’ eyes before they’d give him something to eat.
The nights in the Garden were spent lying underneath his mother’s bed, curled against her side as she held him close for warmth.
According to the Madam, he was not allowed to sleep on the bed since he would dirty them, so underneath the bed frames they went.
The winters were the most difficult times. His mother did not own a single blanket. They existed all over the bedroom, but they belonged to the brothel. Only she could use them, but not him.
“In the Garden, nothing belonged to you.”
Not even their bodies.
But mummy had one thing she could call her own.
“When father left, mother found she was with child.”
“You.”
Him.
What a miracle it was for her to hide her pregnancy for so long. She dressed in heavier layers to conceal herself and found ways to dampen the morning sickness and nausea through common herbal remedies.
When she was seven months along, the Madam had only two options—lose the jewel amongst flowers to a dangerous abortion attempt, or lose her to the streets of the Red Light District.
Mummy played a dangerous game, and somehow, in some way—
She won.
—
Aurelion’s impression of his brother’s mother rose by several feet.
If Lady Alouysia had survived, she and his mother might have been friends.
Her sheer audacity to challenge the Madam was glorious. There was a strength underneath all that silk.
Aurelion never heard him talk about his life in the brothel. He assumed the worst and knew of stories where the children of the workers were oftentimes sold to other establishments.
“… An infectious disease traveled through the Red Light District and killed her off.”
There was a moment of silence as both of them acknowledged this.
Nazareth’s voice was soft, his articulation of each word like air. He spoke as he did in their childhood before the tutors corrected and shaped his speech into the standard form befitting of his position.
Aurelion hadn’t noticed when Nazareth started to speak in his natural accent, but it felt nice as if his big brother was confiding in him with a secret known only between them.
However, once again, the moment was destroyed by his next statement.
“Between living with my mother in a brothel and being a part of this family, I would have chosen the first option.”
“…”
Aurelion felt like he was slapped in the face.
His hackles raised.
“That…! Why would you—”
He was ready to defend his brother from his self-worth, which was clearly lacking if he thought happiness belonged in a brothel house—
A small rumble from his brother’s chest surprised him.
Aurelion felt the vibration as his ear was pressed against his brother’s shoulder.
With wide eyes, he looked at him in surprise.
Was that a laugh?!
He saw his brother with a small, self-deprecating smile on his lips and a faint sparkle of amusement in his eyes.
Why do you look like that?
But Nazareth only continued, as if nothing happened.
—
“If Father hadn’t heard rumors of a seven-year-old black-haired whoreson in the Red Light District, I would have sold myself into the Garden to get my mother a burial ceremony.”
His father managed to track him down by visiting the Garden. Of course, this was after a thorough investigation. He paid the Madam for his mother’s body and sent out a search party to scour the entire district.
A knight found Neo squaring off with a pack of wild cats and some lame beggars in an alleyway somewhere deep within the Western Slums for a piece of bread.
The knight picked him up like a sack of potatoes and whisked him away to an inn.
Neo remembered being thrown into a tub, washed, and then given some ill-fitted, but clean, clothes—all of which came from the extra stash of clothes the Odum carriages were commonly equipped with for emergencies.
Within two hours, his entire life changed.
—
Despite all the fine details in his brother’s narrative about cats and clothes, Aurelion was more focused on the part where his brother admitted to almost SELLING HIMSELF to the brothel.
“You—how could you—that’s stupid!”
But his brother chuckled.
“I was reckless and desperate. It wouldn’t have been worth it, but it meant everything at the time.”
“Brother…”
But the older boy shook his head, “The Garden was the only thing I knew.”
—
The backhanded words hidden in silk, the way a person’s eyes traveled and lit up at the sight of a man or woman batting their eyes, the posture of lust, the hiss of a threat, the arrogance of a gait—this was the beauty of the Lotus Garden.
Nazareth was clever and sharp and simply adapted to the Garden as he grew.
He was less child and more beast, his presence akin to a pet in the eyes of the Madam.
The children sold to the Garden were trained day by day in the arts, and later, when they grew much older, they learned the art of the flesh.
Nazareth wasn’t allowed near those children. They were precious cargo, sprouts to be nurtured into blossoms.
He was just a ghost that drifted between the walls, dirty and filthy, protected only because he belonged to the beloved Alouysia.
So no, he didn’t start life as a child.
He was just an imaginary thing no one saw unless he allowed them to.
His mummy meant for him to be like that. If he was a ghost, then the Madam knew not to lay a hand on him.
—
“Father got the ceremony ready for my mother’s burial and brought me to the Magic Tower so we could trace my bloodline. He gave me two options if it turned out we weren’t related. Either I would be adopted into the family as an aide to you, or he would send me to school.”
Both were generous offers.
A little too generous in Nazareth’s opinion.
“I thought he was one of…those people.“
Aurelion’s head whipped around so fast, he nearly knocked his forehead against his brother’s skull.
“What?!” He practically screamed.
His voice echoed through the hall.
Neo calmly put the tips of his index, middle, and ring finger on his brother’s lips in a gesture to silence him.
The kid was loud enough to wake the entire manor.
He explained, “I thought Father wanted to sponsor me like a rich man sponsoring an escort. It happened a few times when I was still living in the Garden,” he mentioned offhandedly, recalling a time when a man found out he was his mother’s son and offered to buy him.
The man believed if he didn’t have the money to buy her time, then he could instead purchase her spawn who looked eight points similar to her.
(The Madam kicked him out immediately because the money would have gone privately to his mother and not the brothel since Nazareth belonged to his mother and not the Garden.)
“The results came back and showed we were related, so I never got the chance to ask. I’m getting off track. Where was I? Oh, so the burial was a success…”
He took dandelion puffs and threw them around the hill his father bought for his mummy.
His father was watching from the carriage…
“And Father took me back to the manor.”
He may have been young, but he long experienced human cruelty.
Gareth and Vespera knew this—and perhaps they hoped he would be able to teach Aurelion compassion for the common people.
And in a way, Nazareth did do that.
“Actually,” it was time for him to admit something else, “I didn’t want to come back.”
The bewildered glare being directed at him told him a lot about what Aurelion was thinking.
“Father convinced me to meet all of you, first. And you know the rest.”
—
Neither his father nor his stepmother worried about the curse when they first brought him back.
It was a mere afterthought when all their attention focused on the preparations being made for his arrival.
But Neo figured it out.
He always had his suspicions, but the realization came after he visited the Archives.
Ever wondered what would happen when two people from cursed bloodlines had a child?
The fairies played their little game and some unspoken rule was broken without anyone’s knowledge.
Nazareth came into being as a consequence.
(The gods were unfair and the fairies even more so. They could cheat all they wanted as long as they didn’t lie. Their grudges held strong even after a thousand years.)
Nazareth was a seven-year-old child. No one believed he’d be capable of causing devastation.
All caution was thrown to the wind in the face of innocent children—and fate being an utter bitch—and resulted in that tragic future.
Aurelion, who was undeserving of the pain inflicted on him, only survived because Nazareth hadn’t taken him seriously. The child grew to be a fine young man, but at what cost?
The boy who poisoned his younger brother still lingered.
(That was him! He knew what he was doing!)
Neo knew he would never do something like that again, but did it mean what happened didn’t happen?
Somewhere out there was a future left in shambles because he couldn’t cope with his losses.
In another lifetime, in another memory.
Nazareth still somehow taught Aurelion compassion for the common people, but certainly not by conventional means.
Aurelion learned through fear.
He was put in a position where if he couldn’t get rid of his cruel monster of a brother, if he couldn’t even protect Sutton, who was targeted for associating with him, then he would be forever powerless.
As the older brother, it was supposed to be Nazareth’s responsibility to look after Aurelion.
He was meant to teach him through kindness.
But what did he do instead?
He burned the world down to soothe his grief.
—
“Father told me I had two cute little siblings who were excited to meet me.” His brother said those embarrassing words without batting an eye, as if he was reciting their father word-for-word.
Aurelion felt his face flush red.
Horrible as the memory was, he could not deny how he and Guinivere tried a little too hard to impress their new big brother.
They even wore their best shoes, and those were uncomfortable as hell.
Seeing his brother’s reaction, Neo wished he could travel back a little further—back to the day he came to the manor. Maybe then, Aurelion could have grown up happier, with an older brother who actually took care of him.
Aurelion felt his brother’s eyes conveying something far too raw for him to understand.
Before he could say something, however, his brother leaned in to press their foreheads together.
Aurelion flinched slightly at the contact, but he didn’t pull away.
“When my mother died,” his brother whispered, “I was prepared to join her in death. But the Madam dissuaded me, not because she cared, but because she believed I would make a profit. I just needed to meet the age requirement, so I was kicked out and ordered to come back for my mother’s body once I was old enough to sign the contract.”
Aurelion swallowed back the words he wanted to say and instead said, “But you came home.”
His brother looked at him for a few seconds.
“…”
Finally, he nodded.
“I did.”
—
Even though brothels were seedy establishments, there were still laws put in place to reign in some semblance of control.
Children bought and sold into brothels needed to meet an age requirement. Nazareth was a few seasons too young to be trained, so he was kicked out. He might have been welcomed if his mother was still alive, but with her death, he had no other legal guardian.
Not to mention, the brothel Madam didn’t want unrelated children under the age limit wandering around in fear it would attract attention from the authorities. The mother was dead, so what reason was there to keep the child around?
Nazareth was only three months away from meeting the age requirements when his father found him.
His father told him to come home, awkwardly and in a way that showed he didn’t know how to talk to children.
(Guinivere and Aurelion were obvious exceptions to that rule, and Nazareth was more of an animal than a kid when he first met him.)
He offered Nazareth everything and promised he would give him anything so long as he went home with him.
For a child who had nothing but the clothes on his back, a makeshift book, and the memories of his mother, the worst thing someone could do was to tell them they could have anything.
Especially when this particular child grew up in the Lotus Garden.
He could not even call his mother his own. She belonged to the Lotus Garden, not him, her own child.
At the very least, he belonged to her.
At least one of them got to keep something precious.
The moment Nazareth was told he could have anything, to own anything (everything), it unlocked a part of him he never knew existed.
What was once a boy who was satisfied with his lot in life transformed into a greedy monster that took and lived without thought for anything else.
He was unstable, without any goals or objectives, grieving and repressing and hating.
He had no true morals or conscience. There was no compass or direction, and so Nazareth thought—why not?
He could live a life full of anger and loathing, act recklessly without care, and reach the ultimate end goal—death.
Material things, titles, vicious acts of violence, and murder filled him with a bittersweet joy.
To inflict pain was to pass the burden of his own pain.
There was blood on his hands and he didn’t care.
His mother had once called him exceptional—believing he would do great things in life once he was old enough to leave her.
But she left him first, and without her, the only stable constant in his short life, his spirit surged uncontrollably with only the feelings he felt in that moment when she died.
—
Aurelion was overwhelmed by what his brother had just admitted.
He still couldn’t comprehend why Nazareth was the way he was, but a conclusion was forming in his head.
Which led to his next question.
“You could have done all that without coming home. Father would have bought you land and property. Why would you want to come home when you had the means to do the same without seeing our faces?”
“I agreed to come home because father told me people were waiting. He said my presence could benefit you and Guinivere.”
Aurelion wanted to cover his face and scream.
Why, father?! Why did you have to say that?!
“I think he believed I needed a new purpose,” his brother added with a shrug.
It all came back to needing.
Aurelion listened to his brother’s story carefully, enraptured, awed, and uncomfortable.
“The reason you hated me,” he said slowly, “was it because I didn’t meet any of your expectations?”
His brother paused.
“I…”
“You were dissatisfied because all I did was run away whenever you sent people after me,” he said, looking at the wall despondently. “Every time you tried to poison me, I always fell for it. I learned nothing, and I wasted your time.”
His voice grew weaker as he withdrew slightly from his brother’s arms, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I actually miss it. I felt like I was worth something when you presented me with a challenge. Now… was I not worth it anymore?”
Again, his brother said nothing.
Aurelion took a shaky breath, “You’re being nice to me, but why do I feel disappointed?”
“…”
“I keep thinking I’m not the only person you’re paying attention to anymore. Do you know how messed up that is?”
Something seemingly broke in his brother’s eyes, as if there was a distant memory Aurelion couldn’t see playing in his mind.
They descended into an uncomfortable silence.
The temperature in the hallway suddenly dropped.
Aurelion felt the familiar discomfort of a chill spreading from his chest and into his lungs. Soon, his limbs froze, and all he felt was cold cold coldcoldcoldcold.
He pushed himself away—
“No.”
Nazareth pulled him back into his arms.
Aurelion froze.
He wondered what his brother would say.
‘No, of course not. I was never dissatisfied with you.’
He imagined.
Or…
‘You never have to feel that way again.’
A promise of some sort—
“I hated you so much.”
The words came out of Nazareth’s mouth like poison knives, piercing the fragile peace between them.
Aurelion’s blood felt like ice flowing through his veins.
—
Aurelion tried to struggle out of his arms, but Neo pressed his brother’s head against his chest and held him there until he stopped.
Neo thought, why bother hiding the truth when it meant he could prevent all the tragedies in the future?
He was once the villain, and Aurelion was not. He caused harm, and Aurelion was his victim.
There was no need for them to misunderstand each other. Neo had no plans to repeat what he did.
His brother could find his happy ending without experiencing the pain of the past.
“You know what they called me. A scummy troublemaking bastard was already understating everything I did. I was worse than scum,” he admitted with a tone of acceptance.
“Get to the point,” Aurelion’s muffled voice said irritably, clearly unhappy with the way he was crushed against his chest.
“It was convenient to be angry with you. You were younger than me, smaller than me… you felt like an easier target. I did not feel remorse for hurting you.”
The truth spilled out.
“I thought it was a type of love. As long as no one else did it, then it would be okay. I could resent you for everything you had, mess with your life, put you in harm’s way—but I told myself I would protect you from everything else.”
Aurelion glared at him. “But it wasn’t okay,” he snapped.
“No. It wasn’t,” Neo agreed, “I was destructive—had no goal or purpose. All I wanted was for the world to burn down because I thought it was unfair.”
The world didn’t stop spinning when his mummy died.
Held against his brother’s chest, Aurelion felt the strong heartbeat belonging to Nazareth. It pulsed erratically like the turbulent rhythm of fire.
“You did nothing to warrant my hatred, but you had everything. I wanted to ruin it so I justified my actions by believing it was my right as your brother. You needed to suffer in order to grow.”
Aurelion scoffed, “And how did that work out for you?”
Neo’s lip twitched, “Bad.”
(His therapist had once asked, “Have you heard of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs?”
“No.”
“It is the basic need of all children to ensure their development. Food, safety, love, and self-esteem, along with the five key essentials–physiological needs, safety, social needs, esteem, and self-actualization, are all required for the growth of a healthy child.”
“… Oh.”
“The childhood you experienced in that world was one of violence. You did not have all of the five basic needs to be successful, and instead, you were influenced by the violence around you and soon became the perpetrator of violence to cope with the circumstances of your childhood. In other words, you continued the cycle of violence because you were already used to it. It was all you knew.”)
“Brother…”
Aurelion finally managed to pull away from him.
Neo reached out to bring him back but froze midway.
Did he even deserve to hold him?
—
Aurelion took a good look at his brother’s face.
“Brother…” he said again.
His brother blinked, his expression growing gloomy and dull.
Aurelion had never seen him so muted.
It had only been four months. How much could a person change in four months?
It was about a hundred days…
One hundred days, about seventy of which were filled with coffee and orchid-spice, interactions beyond the usual cold glares and sneers, civil conversations, and head pats.
It only took him a little more than two months to get used to a brother who wasn’t out to kill him.
Aurelion had suspected something was going on.
The dream excuse was for the gossip mill among their peers, but he knew better.
He knew Nazareth better than to believe a simple dream could turn him into the person he was now.
Nazareth was difficult to read, but he wasn’t unreadable.
There was an abyss inside his brother’s mind, a darkness still lingering underneath it all. It was like Nazareth had simply shoved everything into a box and hoped for the best, unable to eliminate that part of himself who was once so cruel.
Nazareth hadn’t reacted to his call.
“Brother,” Aurelion said again, irritated by the way he was ignored the first two times.
Nazareth wasn’t looking at him. His eyes weren’t focused on him. His mind was somewhere else, somewhere far, where it was difficult to reach.
Aurelion forced himself back into his brother’s space with the enthusiasm of an iceberg that’d been pushed by a wave.
Touch was not a familiar love language in their family. There were always the occasional pats on the shoulder and back, or a hand being squeezed in reassurance, but never anything to the degree of what they were doing now.
Aurelion thought he could get used to this.
Cuddling was oddly therapeutic.
“En,” his brother finally answered with a sound of acknowledgment.
He again brought up a hand to stroke his hair as if he were coaxing him.
Aurelion soaked up the attention like a starved kitten and pressed his chin on his brother’s shoulder.
There was quiet all around them.
“I have a long story to tell,” his brother said.
His vermillion eyes peered at him with a raw emotion he couldn’t pinpoint. “Will you listen?”
Aurelion met his gaze without blinking. He nodded.
“Yes.”
Certainly, it was a long story. Four decades worth.
Starting from the day his brother died.
Aurelion will not know about the events that led to that point, nor about the sword that killed Nazareth, but starting from the moment his brother closed his eyes on that cliff, he learned of the truth.
—
Neo started to remember.
It was a memory he once tried to forget.
He remembered the day he made his ties with Julius, Lester, and Elliot.
After Julius confessed his selfish wish of wanting to live, it was his turn.
He was the last to go…
“That’s funny,” he cackled—voice hoarse with amusement.
Julius glared at him, “I beg your pardon—”
“I wanted to die.”
There was a pause of silence.
They all watched him smile that crazy smile with too many teeth.
“In the womb, I mean. They said I was a curse on the Odum House. A mindless beast wreaking havoc and destruction on the Odum House. They’re not wrong. I should have never been born, but a fish slipped through the net and mummy dearest wanted it. Oh, she wanted so selfishly. A child of her own. Something that was hers and solely hers…” He trailed off.
“Mummy was so cruel.”
They all stared wide-eyed at him, doubt flashing across their faces in bewilderment.
Nazareth took another sip of the ceremonial wine.
“Naz, are you okay—”
“I’m a ticking time bomb with no lines to cut,” he started again, “It was better to bring me home than to leave me out unsupervised. Why else do you think they keep me around despite what I do? They think the heir will reign me in and give me some purpose, so they let me play with him. Look how well I trained him. I’m so proud of my little brother. He’s so paranoid and cautious, and he hates me, but he will survive. I did good. My little brother is scared, but I did what I had to do. Mummy will be happy. He will live. He won’t be like me. He can’t be like me. I won’t let him–—hey! Give that back!”
Julius snatched the ceremonial wine out of his hand, “I think he’s had enough.”
“It was only half the goblet,” Elliot observed, “… Can we consider that a secret?”
The older boy sighed, “I’m sure it will be fine. Give me the knife.”
Lester, who had been quiet for most of the ceremony after telling them his secret, handed him the ceremonial dagger.
Neo could hold his liquor better than most, but there was something about the ceremonial wine that really messed him up. Julius, Elliot, and Lester weren’t affected even after a whole cup, but he barely made it through his own.
Thankfully, Julius had shut him up before he could say anything else to embarrass himself. It was one of the few times he had gotten drunk in both lifetimes, and by the time the alcohol managed to fully soak in, he had no memories of what happened after the ceremony.
To this day, Julius refused to talk about it, and Lester and Elliot were just as tight-lipped.
Neo stopped asking when he realized he must have done something truly embarrassing if no one was willing to tell him anything.
“Technically, since it hasn’t happened yet, wouldn’t that be a prophetic dream?” Aurelion asked once Neo got to the part where he died and came back.
Neo agreed, “It would technically fall under a prophecy, but my consciousness traveling to a different world is something outside of prophecy.”
Aurelion looked at him questionably, “You don’t want to know how you came back?”
Neo shook his head, “I don’t want to think too deeply about that.”
“Huh.”
Neo’s lips formed a small smile. He wrapped the blanket tighter around them and leaned his head against his brother’s shoulder.
“… Are you happy?” Aurelion whispered after a long minute of silence.
“Why do you ask?”
“You were talking about it earlier.”
“Do you think I deserve to be?”
“…”
There was no answer.
Neo huffed, amused.
“We’ll revisit this again when the time comes.”
“… Okay.”
—
Step 29. Communicate. If not now, when? Do not forget where you come from, and more importantly, do not forget the kind of person you are. If you can’t even do that, then what was the use of doing everything else?
The author has something to say:
Thank you, stairs, for the beautiful fanart. You can also find the image on the fanart page.
stairs
Beautiful as always
I love this book so much
Thank you thank you thank you
🌟🌟🌟 Thats right! Communication!!!
Thanks for the chapter!!
I love this.
Yes COMMUNICATIONNNN
Idk why but I love the fact that Mei is willing to share the truth with everyone important to him. Usually the mc hides their secret so much and not even telling their partner and I just hate it….idk why tho so I appreciate Neo a lot
Thank you! I love it.
❤❤❤❤❤❤
I miss it when it was released but now this snack is chewed.
They forgot he was once the most possessive little shit anyone could have the misfortune of meeting.
Damn I loved that line. 👌
Thank you for the chapter!
This chapter was full of ups and down. It was pretty awesome. It is actually rare that we see this kind of communication.