The Beginning
Elves weren't real, it's called a deer, not a halla, and Elven was just a nonsense language he made up. Those words were just some of many things the adults told him. They said he had an overactive imagination and he believed them.
The Free March was too fantastic to be true after all. Forest with trees taller than the houses in London. Fennecs running around trying to steal his lunch before he decided to share it with them. People actually saying he was a smart boy, albeit a bit weird.
Arago loved the dream world with all his heart. Ewan thought he loved sleeping-well, human Ewan did, not the elf one- but he hated to do so as an elf, because he would wake up in London as a human and would be called stupid again.
At least, as an elf, no one made fun of him.
It was his ninth birthday. He knew because his human family celebrated his and Ewan's birthday by making their own cake. Arago asked his dad for a glasses like the one his twin had for this year's gift. He thought it was the reason why human Ewan's was so much smarter than he was. His father laughed, saying that Arago didn't need glasses to be smart.
The albino boy didn't find anything funny about it.
Maybe his human body was born stupid after all.
A year later and Arago woke up in his bed with a choked sob and shivering body. The air was cold compared to the licking flame that almost engulfed him. "Brother, why are you crying?" Ewan asked sleepily, apparently having been woken up by his twin's sobbing.
The white haired boy grind his teeth, "How can you sound so relaxed? Our parents just died!" He hissed.
There was a pause, then a sigh. Ewan slid to his side and embraced him, "It was just a bad dream, Auberon. Mother and Father are still alive, and they'll be awake soon."
The younger twin tensed when Ewan called his 'other' name. His elf name. He wasn't in London. "I'm sorry for worrying you, Yewen." Auberon returned the hug shakily. "I'm sorry…" He tried to contain his tears. The memory was still fresh in mind, and he knew his parents' death was real. Just like the fact that his elf's life was also real. He had never been dreaming, not even once,
"Do you want to talk about your dream?" Yewen asked softly.
Auberon shook his head, "No, I'm fine now." He whispered. His arms were still looped around Yewen's body, and he buried his face on his brother's shoulder. "I'm sorry…"
"No need to keep apologizing, let's just go to sleep." Yewen patted his back before letting go of Auberon. His twin reluctantly did the same. "Good night."
"...Night."
He was in the middle of his senior year when Ewan announced that he wanted to be a cop. Arago demanded reason, trying to hold back his fist from connecting to his twin's face. Then Ewan said his betrayal. "There wasn't any Patchman to begin-" He didn't get to finish his sentence. Arago punched him hard enough to throw him to the floor. Hot blooded rage filled his heart. Ewan had no honor. He was no Yewen. He was not a brother of his.
They gave him the tattoo of Mythal, The Protector, The All-Mother, She Who Loves. He wanted Elgar'nan tattoo, but it was not for him to decide. Arago's task might be to avenge his family, Auberon's task, however, was to protect the clan. Be it from dangers or hunger, his blades were ready to strike down as instructed.
Yewen grew up alongside him to be The First to The Keeper. He was born magic, and was absolutely precise with it. Keeper Deshanna taught him their language, and in turn Yewen taught his brother. Many people said their parents were blessed with such bright children. It made the twins smile. To do their clan proud was what they strive to achieve.
No one noticed the strained edge on Auberon's lips.
Living on the streets had its own difficulties. When he was back with his clan-as Auberon- in the forest, Arago had the support of his clanmates and the tools he needed. Here, he had only himself to count on. He hid and observed the so called thugs and scums of society. Their rules weren't so different from the rules back at Thedas, he thought. Street cred, weapons, gangs… in the end gaining respect is the only way to raise through the hierarchy.
They laughed at him at first because he was just 'a snot nosed kid'. That was a good start, actually, because it was easier to beat them when they underestimated him. He got his first gun from beating a new recruit of a gang member. The laughter turned from mocking to impressed. "Where did you learn to move like that, kid?"
"Self taught." Arago replied cheekily.
Soon, he had the shelter and food he needed. After finding nothing on Patchman, he left, and the cycle repeated. The rumors of the white haired kid flourish in the underworld. Many of them were exaggerated, or underestimated, but it made no difference for him. As long as he had the right reputation, he could gain informations on Patchman easier.
Or so he thought.
The war between Mages and Templar would affect not only humans, but also everything surrounding them. Including the elves. Even before Keeper Deshanna telling the clan this, the fact that one of their own had been hurt by a stray magic was enough. The Keeper looked contemplative these days. Well, even more than before. Auberon wondered what was going to happen.
Yewen squeezed his hand, a comforting smile decorated his face.
Auberon smiled back and rested his head on Yewen's shoulder. "You are my only brother." He sighed. "I love you."
"What bring this up?"
"Nothing. I just thought I should say it."
"You are a strange one, Brother." Yewen chuckled.
His voice made Auberon smiled. He needed it. Tomorrow Arago would be back in London. Tomorrow, he might meet Ewan again.
He hadn't even been on London for a whole night and yet Ewan already found him. They fought, they wrestled, Arago pickpocketed Ewan's wallet. Same old, same old. Arago hated him so much. Nothing in this world would make him forgive the traitor. He had no brother here on Earth.
"What do you mean by 'change of plans'?" Yewen squinted his eyes, a habit he developed since young.
"You are too important for this clan, Ew- Yewen." The older twin noticed how Auberon almost slipped to the old nickname he used to use. "It's too dangerous, you are to inherit Keeper Deshanna's title one day. There is no one else that can take your place."
"And you are?" Yewen started to shake. "You are irreplaceable too, Auberon!"
"That's not the point!" The younger brother snapped. "The point is that you'll be safe! And everything will be fine!"
"What are you talking about?" He never truly understood Auberon. His brother was smart and loyal, with random quirks that seemed to develop randomly. "Is it- did you have another dream? You know it's just a dream, right?"
"That's not it, Yewen…" The white haired elf scratched his ear, "I told you, it's better this way." Auberon smiled encouragingly. "It'll be fine! Everything will be okay!"
He wasn't the only one attending Ewan's funeral. Except, he was the only one who stood outside the cemetery, too ashamed of his sin and guilt to actually stand between Ewan's loved ones.
Arago let go of the iron bar. The sun is shining brightly and cheerfully as if mocking his failure. The only living Hunt turned around to go back to his flat. He promised to Ewan he won't waste this life, but he didn't know what to do next. He needed a plan.