A Brotherhood of Blood

CH 1

The two boys tossed and tumbled through edge of the woods, each trying to gain an upper hand over the other. The cracking of the underbrush completely drowned out by the clamor of the yelps and yells of the smaller boy. The larger of the two seemed to be in constant control of the scuffle, but every time it seemed he had the smaller pinned the smaller managed to wriggle away. He would leap up, dancing around his older brother cackling and shrieking with glee.

The elder of the two brothers was well built for a boy his age. Already at the age of 15 his shoulders were as broad as a full grown man. His face too concealed his age, for it was harsh and unmoving as if it were made of steel. No smile ever crossed those lips and no joy ever shone in those eyes. The life he had led had not allowed him to enjoy such things, and without his wrought-iron will, he and his brother would not have survived.

In this way the brothers were two sides of the same coin. The younger expressed every emotion he ever possessed on his animated face and there wasn't a moment of thought that didn't escape out of his ever moving mouth. Physically too they couldn't have been more different. Whereas the elder might have been mistaken for a man by the time he was 15, the younger was small and slight for his age. Even at 12 years old, he looked far younger. As such, he had adapted his own method for survival. Quickness. With a wit as sharp as a knife he could talk his way out of any situation. Even if all else failed and someone wished him harm, they'd have to catch him first.

As he danced around his older slower moving brother he sent quick jabs his way. The older deflected most of the blows, but a few made it through to his abdomen. The younger was sure they must hurt, even a little, but his brother showed no signs of pain. His older brother had never showed any weaknesses, especially not when it was just the two of them. The younger smiled to himself as he thought this, for there was always a time to start.

He dashed in for a hard right hook and swung his fist in with all his might. It was just what his brother had been waiting for. The elder brother grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him in close, the younger felt his feet leave the ground. A moment later he was flying backwards through the air and he landed hard on his back. He felt all the air leave his lungs in a great gasp. He lay there, struggling to get it back in great wheezing breaths and grasping around for something to defend himself. But his brother made no move to cause him any further harm, he simply stood motionless, as if waiting to see if his brother had had enough.

Just as the younger brother started to regain his breath, he felt his hand grasp onto something round and smooth and firm. And there on the ground, covered and dirt and bruises and struggling for breath, he understood something. He was never going to beat his brother by facing him head on or by running away. He needed a third option, this stone.

He struggled to his feet. As he looked up, he could see his brother looking at him inquisitively. Any other time they had sparred a blow like that would have been the end of it. But his brother looked almost pleased by his younger brother's strength.

The younger's look of feigned exhaustion turned into one of glee as he called out.

"Hey Dar! Catch!"

He sent the stone flying towards his brother with surprising velocity, who had no time to react. It struck him on the shin and he fell to one knee with a great grunt. Great anger flared in his eyes and he bellowed.

"Dray. You little shit! That's no way fight."

He regained his composure rising again to his feet. He made his way towards his brother in great strides.

"When a man fights, he must fight with honor and dignity. For without that, a man is NOTHING!" he called out. "I thought I'd taught you at least that. What would father think?!"

His words were meant to cut deep, his younger brother knew better, but he could still feel the pang of anguish at the mention of his father. He scrambled backwards gathering stones as fast as he could and called back.

"Honor? Honor!? What good did honor do for him? Maybe if he'd thought for himself instead of blindly following orders HE'D STILL BE ALIVE."

He started tossing stone after stone as he retreated backwards from his advancing brother. Each one hitting with astounding accuracy. His brother deflected most, but with each one that hit its mark, he could see him wincing in pain.

"That's enough." His older brother stated firmly.

As he retreated deeper into the forest the underbrush got thicker, and he began to struggle to stay ahead of his brother. He knew that if his older brother caught him he would experience the full extent of his brother's pain and rage. He had to end this fast.

He grabbed one more stone just as his brother closed in and flung it with all his might. As the elder lunged for his younger brother it caught him just above the left eye. He grabbed his brother and tore him to the ground, as the blood began to pour from the wound.

"DRAVEN. I SAID THAT'S ENOUGH."

Darius slammed his brother against the ground, who was still smiling as he lost consciousness.

This would not be the last time the brothers drew each other's blood.