Anguish

Suffering.

Misery in its purest form enveloped Alec in a constricting cocoon. It squeezed him, choked him, pushed him to his breaking point.

And he broke.

Like a million pieces of delicate China bashed against solid pavement.

Like a bullet hitting concrete and splintering into a thousand slivers of metal.

Like a lightbulb bursting, exploding in sparks and razor-edged shards of glass.

Depression engulfed him like a tidal wave; pulling him deeper and deeper into an ocean of darkness, until the light above was just a speck in the distance.

His breath fled his body. He tried to breathe in, but the air tasted of sulfur and ash. He could smell smoke, it's thick fumes wafting from a blazing fire somewhere nearby.

There he was, standing in the middle of the battle field, staring into the dark, terrified eyes of his sister. The words of blasphemy falling from her lips set the speed of the world to slow motion. The battle cries, screams and explosions sounded so distant. The only words that registered at full volume were,

Max is dead

Isabelle's broken voice portrayed her deepest emotions. The inner turmoil, the heartbreak; It was too much for Alec to bear. The world was unfocused, like he was wearing someone else's glasses. The earth swayed dangerously to the left, as Alec became unsteady on his feet.

Isabelle was the thing that finally dropped the blade of the guillotine. The way she was looking at him, her older brother, for guidance. Like she could make it through if Alec would lead her through it. In that moment, they were young again. Isabelle was the toddler that looked up at Alec with bright eyes, expecting him to defeat the monsters in her closet. She needed hope, she needed strength from her big brother.

But in that moment, he couldn't do it.

The world was unraveling around him. He, himself, was being unwound.

He did something he promised he wouldn't do- He let his tears fall; and Isabelle saw them.

Isabelle let loose a sob and hunched over, clutching her stomach, as if she had to hold herself together or she would explode.

Alec felt dizzy, the world was swaying and he couldn't steady himself. The longbow fell from his hands and clattered against the ground. He felt a warm, strong hand grasp his forearm and he made to pull away but had no strength. He allowed the person to pull him away from his spot as he watched a medic rush over to Isabelle.

White noise was all he heard, darkness was all he saw and numbness was all he felt; except for the pressure of a steady hand on his arm, keeping him grounded. The pressure was a point of gravity, a point of reality. The sounds of battle flooded into his head, the crimson tints of blood and fire filled themselves in like a color-by-numbers coloring book, leaving the rest in black and white.

He looked up at the tall person holding him and met a familiar face. A pang of guilt struck his chest; remorseful that his mind couldn't put a name to the face above him. He found himself murmuring, "He was so young. He was only nine." The man above him looked at him with green eyes filled with sorrow. "I know, Alec. I'm so sorry, but we have to get you out of here." The man's voice matched the sorrow in his eyes, yet he was firm, not wanting to waste time. Alec walked numbly where the person was taking him.

The rest was a blur. The memory of that day faded as the words left his lips,

"He was my brother."