ALTAIR
"Someone admires you".
"Huh?"
I gaze at Malik. His own words (or rather what they reveal) seem to irritate him. He frowns his Vulcan eyebrows, pulling a face, showing his displeasure as always. The summer sunshine burns above, making his dark and silky hair glowing.
"Not surprising. I'm the most talented, don't you think?"
I play with my knifes, swirling one of the blades between my fingers to prove what I just said, before throwing it to the black hooped straw target in the practise yard. The knife follows a straight course through space and time then hits a bull's-eye. I wish it could be a metaphor of my life... Rectilinear. Precise. Powerful. Without any digressions.
Malik has a scornful sniff; I didn't even aim at the target. My skills get him angry. He percieves that as an outrageous luck, he told me once, and remains convinced that things are bound to change.
"Stop being so arrogant".
"Who is it? The guy who admires me".
"It's Kadar".
Ah. I better understand. Malik is a protective big brother. He surely doesn't like to see Kadar idolizing me... Especially since this pup gets such an enthusiasm.
"I tried to get it out of his mind" he says, throwing his own knifes. (The blades end up on the fly upon the target, almost in the center. Almost). "So I'd appreciate if you could behave properly and reasonably, at least in his presence... I don't really want he draw inspiration from a half-assed model like you".
I can't help shooting him a haughty look:
"If he admires someone other than you, it's because you did wrong as his brother, didn't you?"
If a glower could kill, I'd be dead a dozen of times since the beginning of this conversation. And if it could only hurt, this one would be the final blow.
Malik is an annoying person. Always behind me –behind everyone– grumbling or finding some mistakes, even the imaginary ones, for the simple pleasure of correct it. Don't do this, don't do that, not like this, not like that, don't slouch, have a better aim, respect the creed, be polite, learn your lessons... I'd gladly tell him to clean his own mess before meddle in the others', if it wasn't already done. This neat freak is obsessive with his things; nobody could find him to be at fault.
I think there's a good reason. He's strict with himself in order to continualy improve over the days. A lot of people consider me as the most talented of our Brotherhood, but the truth is, Malik follows closely behind me... However, he doesn't stand for this tiny difference between us, this "almost", this eternal second role. Prehaps he'd realize his own value if he could look how far he has come, instead of how far he still has to go.
"Come on, don't look so glum!" I say, hitting his shoulder.
"Oh, shut your mouth and throw that knife already".