A/N: Putting a hold on my other fetishes I decided to do a few on the 12th unit and the...bishops group. So…-cant decide- yeah. Expect further one shots…

Disclaimer: I don't own anything used in this save for maybe the idea of a little plot to amuse you people reading.

Note: And keep in mind I haven't played the game and am going by the manga –pained- only up to book 4…latest one out. Don't hurt me for my lack of knowledge…

Genre: General/Romance

Rating: PG

Pairing: None. Just sibling bond and a little love. (Come now we ALL love/hate our siblings xD)

Suikoden III

Autumns Whispering Breeze

"Are you sure with this…? Where will you go? At least take one of the horses!"

A red haired teenager glanced to the side, his face devoid of anything but a smile. But the other being that was equal nearly in height. "Its alright." A hand wave was given, much like a clock pendulum swinging back and forth "if anything happens to me. You can say…" the tactician put on a brave face. A smile lit up to big to fit his own "I told you so!" The features relaxed, returning to the ill diluted face. All that was seen was a ghost of a smile.

"But…" Feebly the Karaya warrior, turned flame champion, could save a world. He could protect people within a distance. But he couldn't save those that were alone, out in the world. There may not have been a war now, but there were other terrors that would make that look like a walk in the park. Bandits, thievery, mercenaries, assassins. The list was too big to fit a palm of a child. No, a young man. Burdened with immortality. "Please…rethink this. He's probably dead…"

The flame champion referred to the older, much more mature and cold elder brother of to whom he was speaking to. He did not know if the strategist survived with the destroyers, or even if any of them had survive. Secretly he wanted them all to pay for the crimes and disputes caused among the Zexens and Grasslanders. But another part of him, the one that the flame champion before him also had, wanted them to live. And be safe. He knew though, two were dead out of four. And the sheer odds were against a human surviving what took place…

Tips of red covered the teenagers face as he turned against the wind, wishing it would beat him for eternity. Until he could no longer see, and rid him of such a life. He loved the castle he loved the people. But the Silverberg name weighed heavy like gold. Sparking interest into those applied and ready for war. Ready to use the hawks of the battlefield and bend them to ill will.

And he did not share the same ideas. The same use of talent that his family name brought.

"You're right." He reasoned for half a second, turning back to face Hugo. "He probably is dead. But I…just want to see him for myself. To confirm it. We never shared any kind of brotherly bond. But…I am still his younger brother. If he is alive. It will not change anything. It will just relieve me of this guilt…"

Hugo was pained. Not just at the idea of letting the best, the only strategist and tactician in the castle to wander away at midnight unattended and alone. With no horse or saddle. Just barefoot. And a long road ahead of him. "What guilt?" The Karaya warrior inquired, trying to once again to deteriorate the tactician, "you have done nothing wrong. Please don't go…" He knew he was practically near begging. But he couldn't think of losing another friend. Not like when the whole war started. His home village burned to the ground.

Unlike other times, when the lazy tactician would utter something it would be with a lazy air, reminding that it wasn't important but people listened anyway. By far, the way Hugo heard his friend speak was like an icy breath that escaped him into the chilly evening darkness. Too early to disperse, yet to late to warm up. "I was the one that made the attack. I planned it and succeeded…please don't tell anyone. I'll be back soon I promise. You have my word Flame Champion."

The young Silverberg shook his head slowly, "no…Hugo. You have my word I'll come back. I just…need to see for myself. It's like you and your destiny of becoming the Flame Champion. You were working toward it all along because fate secretly chose you to bear the rune. And I need to do the same. I've placed myself on a board already. And the only thing ahead of me is the king. You, Hugo."

Hugo lowered his face "Than what are you on the board?" the Grasslander knew what the tactician would say even before he spoke. But when he did, it was a howl in the wind, and a drum to his fragile ears.

A solemn face regarded Hugo with silence, and a lopsided smile. Strained he murmured it instead of speaking aloud. Feeling like another heavy weight had fallen onto his shoulder unintentionally. The small bag on his shoulder seemed to sag with his face. The added invisible weight that fell on his shoulders only worsened his sullen mood. Turning away he left Budehuc castle, eyes moist and unfocused. Even as he walked the path of fate and uncertainty.

Hugo gathered his shaken wits and leaned against the castle wall that was closest and sagged down the side of the wall. His skin clung to the damp walls, reminding him just how chilly it was. And for a while the Flame Champion, the beacon of hope sat. Mesmerized by the puddle forming just underneath his eyes. It wasn't long before he covered his face and softly sobbed, the sadness and guilt that the Silverberg carried became apparent. As Hugo understood shortly what the words meant. And shared the others pain.

"I'm a pawn."


That conversation had taken place weeks ago. The young Silverberg had walked high and low. He knew some of the places that he passed, and followed numerous trails he had mesmerized from maps. A while later though, he didn't care where his feet took him. Like he had guessed in the beginning, there were bandits, mercenaries, and assassins on the road. Having no wits in terms of fighting or skills that gave him any sort of advantage left little resistance over any choice possessions he possessed.

Unable to protect himself he handed over whatever little he had taken with him and continued on his way. Thankfully a few kind and generous people, hardly any better than he was off financially wise offered food and the likes. Yet he only took what he absolutely needed, kindly refusing anything else. Soon it had become a routine. Although sometimes he would hear rumors around the taverns about his elder brother. In the end they all proved false.

And again he was stuck in the biting cold of autumn breeze, again in the early morning. On a path he had never taken before shivering from head to toe. Any attempts to warm himself proved to be futile and like a dying wind he stopped caring about that as well. Thirst and hunger were among them. "Sorry…Hugo…" He murmured quietly, "Caesar Silverberg might not make it back if he doesn't get something in his gut...or warmth now that I think about it."

Reminding his nerves about the certain parts, which lacked nutrition and heat, only served to painfully wrap him up in a cocoon. And too soon did he find himself falling against the ground. His knees digging into the hard dirt, the small frigid of formed ice in such temperatures digging into his flesh. But he ignored it. It was only a numbing sensation now. Licking his lips he brought his hands up to his face, blowing on them to ease the knife like stabbing feeling. Battling the winds like he had offended the god that controlled them.

Caesar looked up at the sky, remembering the night he left the safety of his haven, where he had brooded for days on end before going back. Hoping, relishing in a chance—a sign at the cost of anything that would say his brother was alive. He sniffed before slowly gathering his legs back up, moving them side to side to make sure he was totally mobile enough that he wouldn't cut loose suddenly and fall like a cut stringed doll. Because to Caesar Silverberg, the ground didn't look as friendly as it may have when he started.

Regardless the youth traveled on and gradually the cuts, bruises, gashes, bumps, aches all began to pile up and take their toll. When he was in front of the place he had searched for, there was nothing but the feeling of being forgotten. Abandoned. And the stench of destruction and human influence that lingered in the air, suspended among the winds of an autumn night.

Caesar brightened, a power surging through him that fueled his ambitions served to give him a strength to move and search. But before long. He was dismayed that there was no body present among the rubble. Though hope shined like a beacon in his heart that no bodies, meant that Albert was still alive! Moving away from the wreckage the tiredness seeped into his body once again. His body willed itself to shut down, and slowly. Very slowly Caesar headed for the entrance. Acutely aware his body was defying his orders.

He needed to…

"I need…to find…Nii-san…" He whispered falling to his knees in a heartbeat. His face eating ground a second later. His eyelids grew heavy and slipped closed while he barely was able to admire the surroundings. How deadly silent and isolated from civilization, away from humans touch. "A perfect place…for me…" his body shuddered before going limp. His smile turning to that of suffering and pain. The strain of living in such a state and climate becoming too much for the Silverberg to bear.

And still. The autumn night raged on. Unchanging from the day Caesar had left Hugo.

In the sky however.

Two of the 108 stars that represented every star of destiny were not in place, and as the youth closed his eyes.

Another blinked out. Becoming shrouded in a sudden cloud.

"Caesar…"

The voice that whispered his name was soft and gentle, alluring him out of a sudden dead sleep. He felt something warm and hot trickle down his forehead and struggled against darkness that threatened to overwhelm his senses. For what seemed like an endless struggle was only a few short seconds once his eyes fought for a world of color and sight. What awaited him in the world was a killer headache. Numbness all around, and a parched throat.

He blinked furiously and attempted to sit up, only getting a pair of careful hands on his shoulders. Pushing him back down, relieving him of the efforts he had just made. Bleary eyed he strained to focus on the blurry shape in front of him. Piecing together the face, and white coat little by little. Complete with the blood red hair much like his own, yet so much more different.

Just as he was about to question the other he was beaten to it. A scowl was on the red heads face as he spoke low, and menacing. "Otouto what the HELL were you doing out there in this kind of weather? It's going to snow soon and yet you're still in clothes that hardly seem sufficient to cover up your body. Never mind the holes in them…" Caesars heart leapt as he tried that much harder to speak. Only able to mumble a groan of discomfort, straining his head to the side. Studying the surroundings.

It was home…

Caesars body gave a shudder as he attempted to speak again, still only emitting a raspy voice sounding like a pack of wild horses just trampled over it. "Easy there… here. Drink up…" A refreshing cool liquid ran down Caesars throat, instantly ridding him of the previous burning sensation. His eyes swerved to the figure, before closing once it was apparent that his body needed a lot more liquids. Accepting the water greedily he gave a soft sigh of contentment once he was finished.

"Brother…" he murmured quietly, hardly above a whisper. The one he had searched for was alive! Although under the circumstances he silently wished the other to go away and come back when he was ready. He didn't, by any means wish to meet his brother. He felt to vulnerable whenever he would even open his mouth in front of the older strategist. He was by far, still inexperienced when compared to Albert. It had only been luck and true planning that he managed to outsmart the Silverberg.

Something he was proud of, simply because it meant that he was good at using his own strategies that may rival his brothers in some way. And secretly he had hoped that it would impress Albert, although, he didn't want to fight. He never did. He only did it because Hugo was helping people, and stopping the Bishops tirades with Harmonia was the only way to stop it. But that was over. There wouldn't be another war until someone kicked the bucket and attempted something.

The sound of a seat being moved across the surface of the floor indicated that Albert was in no rush. Even as the elder Silverberg sat down, Caesar couldn't help but shift his blue eye up to meet his gaze. "What were you doing out there? If I wasn't passing by you might have died. Or was…" there was a hint of irony and empty amusement, "that your intention all along?"

Caesars face went as red as his hair, and probably a shade darker, "obviously I wouldn't kill myself, not intentionally anyway." He coughed lightly and groaned. "Why were you up and about in that area?"

"I was on leave," said Albert simply, "there is no need for my services just yet. And Sasarai has taken a rest so I thought I'd take some time off."

Caesar frowned. "You didn't really answer it…"

"I was seeing if the True Wind Rune was around, but apparently. It's not."

"Mmhmm…"

It was quiet in the house, and more so between the brothers. Every now and then Caesar would shiver and attempt to lift the blankets, but a glare from the eldest made him rethink that idea. So he just lay there, utterly bored out of his mind. "Why were you out then? There must have been an important purpose if you wandered that far from Budehuc castle…" the eldest leaned over, past the chair, staring Caesar down with a hawk like gaze. Reaching forward to brush away a few strands of red hair from the youths face. "Tell me you weren't on foot the whole time…"

"I was…I didn't need the horses. It would have been to easy to be shot down by bandits or seen by passing people that I could have easily avoided on foot…"

Albert was compelled to smack his little brother for being stupid.

But he had all day to do that. And his little bro was recovering; there was no need to punish him while the weather had done a majority for him. "This is one thing that separates us. You don't use raw sense or think about taking risks. You have to take risks." Albert leaned back sighing softly as he folded his arms across his chest. "It's a Silverberg trait that you just don't grasp. War has losses on both sides. You shouldn't care about your side either. If it helps you win, risk any amount of soldiers. But you dear brother…you seem to focus more on survival than offense. And you know it to don't you? Chisha was proof of that."

Caesar glared. "They were poor defenseless people! They had no battle strategy, and only had a home to protect! They had no weapons or armor I had to help! Survival was the only thing that did matter." His tone took a turn of bitterness, "course I wouldn't expect YOU to understand that. Being a military strategist."

Albert's face dropped whatever smile had been left. His brother always knew which buttons to push, and it didn't take much to get Albert mad. But he couldn't yell or shake a stick at his blood brother. It would only be a waste of energy. Years of experience taught him that much in the past. "You're a rather immature brat aren't you? I'm years older than you, and if I wanted to, I could have left you out there to freeze to death." The chair he was sitting on tipped back by the single push of a foot against the floor.

"You should have then."

"Getting tired already? You're hardly anywhere near my age and you want to cut off early? I don't think so" Albert stopped tipping his chair back, landing it back softly on the ground. Hearing the echoes of the legs of the chair with a single tap.

Caesar turned his face away from Albert, rolling onto his side. Wincing as his leg seized up, causing discomfort when he tried to move it. For once Caesar felt helpless. At least with a map or outline by sight or words he knew what tactics he could take. But he was now home, in a familiar territory that was not so anymore, and in the hands of his brother. Worse was his brother didn't seem to be leaving at any time.

Albert noticed his discomfort. "You sprained your leg. Had a high fever, cuts and bruises the size of runes, dehydrated, malnutrition. God…don't you take care of yourself?" Albert asked, finishing counting down the number of injuries. "Its lucky you didn't catch hypothermia while you were at it!"

"Why the hell would you care than oh mighty brother strategist who plays the loyal dog to the bishop?" Caesar growled, rolling back over. The two glared at each other, the brotherly hate reviving ever so slowly.

"Loyal dog to the bishop? Why you…" It took willpower to calm down but the older strategist did it. "Heh, you're just jealous because the castle probably didn't need you, is that it? Your worthless in anything but war. You try to stay off it, but you'll always be brought into it. That what the Silverberg name is. Were servants to those who will use us. Use our family talent that has been passed down from generation to generation. That's what we are little brother, the hawks of the battle field."

"But you don't seem to understand that. You have tried to escape your talent. Tried to do something different. Following that Apple woman…but it still led you to the battle field did it not?" Albert inquired, smirking slightly when Caesars face fell in recognition. "Its your fate as it is mine. I've accepted it. But you…" he shook his head, blood red hair spilling over one eye. As if to hide half of the mirth bestowed upon him. "Apparently have not."

Caesars blood boiled to breaking point. Throwing off the covers he slid out of the bed. Ignoring the pain in his muscles, and the stumbles that would be sure to follow. All that mattered would be laying a punch on Albert. It was no wonder they never got along. They thought so differently! Wanted completely different things. Opposite sides of a coin. Caesar limped to Albert, eyes narrowing in anger, hate, and the simple fact that he knew deep down inside that Albert was right.

'Then…does that make me a coward?'

Albert tsked. "Up so soon? You should be resting…" The elder Silverberg didn't move, only moving his elbow to his knee, supporting his face against the palm of his hand. Using it as a makeshift pillow, his eyes following—anticipating, what Caesar was going to do next. Albert slowly imagined a map, a chessboard even and considered what tactics Caesar could do in his current health. 'Absolutely nothing..' his arm fell away, the opposite one flying up to catch the slow moving fist, yanking his brother forward roughly into a light embrace.

"And you're sensitive too little brother."

"I …am NOT!"

Albert winced when something hit his chin. Eyes lowering down he was met with the most hated look that Caesar could muster up, surprisingly the blood red hawk of the battlefield started to laugh. The sound was filled with humor, strikingly though, it calmed Caesar down—the fact that hisbrother was laughing truly stunned him. The eerie vibration was enough to just allow the younger sibling to smile a bit, granted the slight wince of pain when he was pulled up against his brother. Sitting on his lap, the eldest minding the injuries carefully.

The Harmonia strategist gradually slowed to halt with his laughter, downing to mere chuckles as he wiped the tears away. His brother, not sensitive, as if… "and you take everything to heart. Another difference. You get riled up to easily, that leaves you prey to others." Albert's fingers took hold of a layer of skin of his littler brother's cheek. And pinched. Hard. Earning a slap, a wave of a frantic hand, and a muted grunt of annoyance.

Ah, siblings…

"Albert! Stop it! I'm not a kid anymore! I'm to be treated accordingly!" Caesar barked.

"Do I get the respect that a 26 year old rightfully should get?"

"…"

"Didn't think so." Albert grinned and hugged his brother tightly, it was one thing to see his lazy little brother, but it was another thing to actually be in the same room together. Ever since Caesar saw what his family history was, not coming to grips with the purpose, and usage of the Silverberg family name and the conditions all members meet. He fled, only to run across Apple at some point and wandered aimlessly. Helping out others. That was as much as Albert knew, simply due to the well-placed Chisha strategy against his. His that was beaten…

'Not that I'd ever admit to being impressed with my little brother…'

"You don't need respect." Caesar snuffed out, trying to remain dignified, "not in this house you don't."

"Oh that hurt a lot little brother. So much I'm dying in my seat. Really, try saying something with more gravity in it."

Caesar considered his words carefully, pitting his own against Albert's. He knew what he wanted to say to his brother, to say how much he missed the elder brother. Despite being on opposite sides and having not been in touch, nor on speaking terms for several years. His red hair swayed to the side as his eyes grew crestfallen, the tiny shift as he attempted to get a bit more comfortable merely served as a distraction as the silence droned on. He could hear the faint ticking of a clock, growing louder and louder as the seconds droned on. The words becoming a memory.

'I'm not suppose to be mushy though, I'm not a soft hawk of the battlefield. I'm…' Red hair covered over the young teenagers face, the glossy eyes shimmering as he inwardly struggled with the right words. Having not said them for the longest time. Caesar was aware that his brother's grip had lessened somewhat, giving the option of retreating and regrouping as a choice. What response had he left he would never know. Would Albert be disappointed? Mad at a hasty retreat once it was presented? Glad not to hear something?

The younger Silverberg raised a hand up, the palm resting against the eldest cheek, sucking up the evident warmth as he smiled, the arm at his side mirroring Albert's. Lifting slightly to wrap around the long jacket that Albert wore intertwining his fingers with the belts. His face growing solemn, despite the smile. Reflecting years of loneliness, "All right then…I missed you Big brother…I missed your comfort, your calm attitude. The way you handled everything and often took the blame that was meant for me. I missed the way I would come to your room, and you would help me with my work. I miss…I miss everything in the past."

"I know I'm a Silverberg, and that I've disrespected the family name by running away. You say I have been trying to avoid the battlefield, and on every step you're right. I'm pathetic…I'm a coward but…I couldn't bear the weight, the guilt knowing that my decision reflected many peoples lives. And to know that the purpose served as to conquer rather than protect people. There was bound to be losses on all sides." Caesar struggled more with his words, trying to keep his words calm and strong. But evidently they were breaking little by little. His voice drowning out in the midst of the emotions bottling up.

"I didn't want that so I've survived with what little I could, helping businesses and people that desperately need it. To insure that they also, were entitled to a life they never thought was possible. I wanted the same kind of life, but I was always dragged back to the starting point…Back to my past. Like using my strategies against your own. I…" Caesar moved his hand down from the comfort of Albert's warm cheek, resting it on his shoulder instead. His body tiring with the bubbling mass of confession. "I love you more than one could imagine Albert. Because of you I was proud to be a Silverberg, I had hopes you and me would be different. Try to deteriorate from the past but…"

Caesars face had flushed, his eyes grew moist with shame, and anger at leaving. The guilt and pride was gone, leaving the young Silverberg in a state of vulnerability. Which Albert noted instantly, his heart beating with something akin to guilt that washed over him like a heavy rainfall. Taking hold with a gentle hand the elder brother lifted the same hand that had offered a state of comfort through a chill in the skin. He regarded his little brother with a compassionate understanding, squeezing the lightly to get partial attention.

"I love you to little brother. Had circumstances been different, and the pieces we played. And the name we were born under different, things might have been more liking. It does justice with committing yourself to confessions. And if I could, I would change what I did in the pass. I only wished to please our mentor, but instead I ended up defiling the Silverberg name." Caesar raised his head up at this, lower lip trembling as unspoken tears dribbling from the corners of his eyelid. Not quite ready to fall. Not ready to admit defeat.

"You…didn't…"

"That's where you're wrong. Father wanted us to use our strategies to help in wars, although you have tried to stray from that, when you have used your services, unlike me. You've thought out everything precisely, while I have, probably more detailed. But I don't think of people's lives. They're nothing more than chess pieces for me. I merely do my work and that's it. You indulge yourselves by thinking up ways to protect people, you target that as your main focus. So they'll be no losses. And if there is, I'm sure they're small. That's what a Silverberg is. So you'd be the gold shining hawk of the battlefield, shining with hope for the goals and protection."

Albert's smile reformed, bitterly "while I'm the opposite, the red hawk bearing the Silverberg name. One who should not be trusted, who will openly admit to leading people to their deaths without a second thought. You see little brother. We are complete opposites but we are Silverberg's. Remember that. You've never defiled the family name, you've brought honor and proud to the family through another way." Albert brushed his gloved hand against Caesars eyes "so don't feel ashamed little bro."

What happened next was something the Harmonia strategist never expected when his brother buried his face against Albert's chest, dampening the jacket. And oddly bringing a shameful smile to Albert, who watched in silence. Only taking the time to wrap his arms around his Caesars small form, drawing him into a comforting tight embrace.

And for the rest of the night, two brothers, complete opposites with different motives for the world, succumbed to the ideal reality of what was never fulfilled.

And could never be obtained.

A/N: I am SO LOST on the Silverberg thing this is just my total demented understanding of it. Since Albert would be the blood red hawk, not caring other than being selfish (which proved true by getting into Harmonia via Luc). And Caesar the gold hawk, why gold? I don't know, because he's not perfect, and gold often is hard to find. And he is a once in a life time different thinker in the Silverberg name so…I DON'T KNOW XD I honestly lost myself halfway through it and just kept inputting as much as my mind could put in xD