"The younger brother fought with the older
for not being able to do what he liked."

・ ・ ・

Throbbing pain.

The first thing Storm felt when he woke up, his eyelids fluttering, grimacing as bright light shone down on his face. A groan, and he screwed his eyes back shut, tilting his head to the side.

His neck protested at the movement, and he grumbled, annoyed, then slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position.

Black dots swarmed his vision for a split second, alarming him, before they gradually lessened and disappeared from his sight. He blinked wearily, gazing around and taking in his surroundings.

The starch white walls of the medical centre glowered back at him.

Why am I here? he wondered dazedly. His memories were hazy and scattered, but he could recall a few things.

There was something about Xenor. A foot.

Blood.

Pain seared through his head, and he reached up, clutching it, only to realise that bandages were wrapped around it. I'm wounded... he thought blankly, playing with the coarse material bound around his forehead.

How?

He winced, releasing a shuddery breath.

Tesarah, screaming for him.

The agony rattled in his head.

Tesarah, crying his name.

Right, there was something about Tesarah. But he couldn't recall what it was.

Narrowing his eyes, Storm tried to grab at the elusive memory, running a hand through his hair.

Tesarah.

Tesarah.

Tesarah...

"Son," came his father's voice, and Storm was jolted back to reality. He turned his head, and saw his parents standing at the door of his ward, with Silix and Zana right behind them.

He squinted at them. "Father... Mother..." he murmured, bleary. Bayne stepped forward, reaching his bedside, and tousled his hair. Storm felt the warmth of his hand on his head, and, perhaps it was just his imagination, but the pain thudding in his skull seemed to lessen a bit.

"How do you feel?" his father asked, a tone of worry in his voice. "You were hurt quite badly."

"I was?" Storm raised an eyebrow, befuddled. His head throbbed and he winced. "... So I was," he muttered, touching his temple.

"Do you remember what happened to you, Your Highness?" Silix asked in concern, just as Zana moved to sort out the medical supplies in the cabinet nearby, and Storm pursed his lips, frowning, trying to bring forth the memories.

A punch to the gut.

Him falling to his knees in pain.

"Of course I will blame you, Brother. And I will deal with your friend as well."

"Brother," he gasped, and the memories came rushing back to him, sweeping over him like a wave, swallowing him in fury, regret and guilt. Pounding, pounding, pounding in his head.

Xenor had discovered them. His brother had found him meeting with Tesarah.

And Tesarah had been taken by him.

"I-I... Father..." Storm stammered, recoiling away from his father. Did Bayne know about the incident? Had Xenor reported it to him? What happened to Tesarah?

What happened to his friend?

Bayne was staring at him. "What's wrong, son?" he asked softly, stroking his head gently. Storm relaxed, and gazed into his father's blue irises.

How similar their eyes were, he realised at that moment.

Blue.

"Did Brother..." He gulped. "Did Brother tell you about... what I did...? And, my friend—" Faltering, Storm bowed his head, biting on his lower lip. Bayne blinked at him, then pulled over a chair and sat down on it.

"He did," his father murmured to him. "He told me about your nightly meetings with your... friend."

Storm slumped even lower, feeling the tips of his ears burn red with shame. His guilt battered at him, mocking him with smug sneers and taunting remarks, as he waited for his father to vent his anger on him.

To shower him with furious disbelief and wrenching disappointment.

But Bayne did not.

"I can see that you are guilty," his father said, "and that is a good enough reason for me to not reprimand you." Storm looked up at his father, stunned. A warm smile, and Bayne cupped his cheek, caressing it with his thumb. "Your actions were wrong, but you already know that, don't you, my son?"

Storm nodded numbly.

"As long as you know that you have made a mistake, I am satisfied with that. All I ask is that there is to be no repetition of this in the future, understand?" His father patted his head, and Storm nodded again, tears pooling in his eyes.

His lower lip quivered as he tried to hold them back.

Stop crying, Storm. You're not a baby anymore.

"Thank you, Father," Storm rasped out, tilting his head away so his father wouldn't see his watery eyes.

"Storm, I do hope that you have learned a lesson from this," came his mother's stern voice, and he glanced up to see Liss standing behind Bayne with her hands on her hips, brows narrowed.

"Yes, Mother. I have," he answered quietly, and his thoughts flickered to Tesarah once more. Where was the white-haired girl?

"Seriously," Liss was saying with a sigh, "you and your father are all too similar. A chip off the old block."

"Liss, I think you mean, a chip off the old Bayne," Bayne laughed heartily, and Liss smacked him upside the head for the joke, though she could not hide her amused smile.

"I'm... similar to Father?" Storm echoed, staring at his mother with wide eyes. Perhaps it was only because of their eyes. Or maybe...

"Yes you are, sweetheart." Liss sat on his bed, and gave him a fierce, affectionate peck to his forehead. "It's not only the colour of your eyes. Only the Guardian Spirit knows why, but your father used to break some of the rules when he was around your age, and even after that, giving poor Silix a hard time dealing with the mess he made. He even knew it was wrong, and yet he continued to do it!"

Silix chuckled from near the door, his indigo eyes shining. "Indeed. You do resemble your father, Your Highness."

Storm flushed.

He had no idea his father was just like him, back in his youthful years.

Rule-breaker.

Bayne laughed— a booming, blithesome laugh. "Like I said, a chip off the old Bayne." He grinned mirthfully, the corners of his blue eyes creasing upwards, and Storm smiled back.

"In my honest opinion, I'd say that rules are worth shi— nothing." His father cleared his throat, and Liss narrowed her eyes warningly. "But sometimes it's best to follow them. It is okay to be defiant, but you have to know the limits to breaking rules. Rules which were set to ensure our safety, our happiness." Bayne reached over and tapped Storm teasingly on the nose.

"Or," Liss muttered under her breath, "just don't break them at all, like Xenor."

Storm grimaced.

Xenor followed the rules like a lifeline.

Of course Liss would say that.

"By the way, Father," he said, shaking away the negativity clouding his mind and gathering his thoughts. "My... My friend. Where is she? What... happened to her?"

A deafening silence fell, broken only by the tinkering of glass as Zana moved a few beakers around.

Bayne's jolly expression had fallen, a dark look coming over his eyes. Even Liss and Silix had become grim.

"Your friend..." Bayne began slowly, and Storm's breath hitched. Anxiety trembled inside him, building up and up and up. "Her name is Tesarah, is it not?"

At Storm's nod, his father suspired, looking slightly more weary than before. "Your brother has been... harsh on her. She would not reveal how she entered Palace grounds, so he made her become his personal maid."

Storm tensed, a shudder of incredulity running up his spine. "He what?" he sputtered. "He— But he can't do that!" He paused. "Can he?"

Bayne shook his head. "We've tried reasoning with him, both your mother and I, that it was wrong to force her to do something she did not want to do," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "But he was adamant. He said it was her punishment for trespassing. For not revealing how she came in."

Another defeated sigh.

"But that's— Father, Tesarah doesn't—" Storm choked, feeling his eyes burn.

It's my fault.

It's all my fault.

He buried his head in his hands, rage and guilt waging a war within him.

If only I had told her to leave, that first night.

If only if I had been more careful.

If only Brother had never found us...

His thoughts faltered, and rage emerged victorious, wiping out all traces of remorse. He clenched his fists, gritting his teeth.

Brother took away Tesarah's freedom. He's the one at fault.

Storm threw back his covers, and leapt off the bed, ignoring how his vision whirled sickeningly at the sudden movements. How his stomach clenched and his head screamed at him, brutally gnawing at him.

"Son, what are you—?" Bayne cried, eyes rounding in surprise.

Zana suddenly darted into Storm's vision, her nostrils flaring, eyes bright and enraged. "Back to bed, Your Highness!" she barked, blocking his path. "A head wound is no joke. You are in no condition to be moving around!"

"Please listen to her, Your Highness," Silix pleaded, coming forward. "You can do what you need to do after you have healed from your injury."

"But, Tesarah is—" Storm stuttered, and the surroundings before him momentarily turned white. He stumbled, barely managing to catch himself.

"Storm Avalon!" Liss thundered, grabbing Storm's sleeve and yanking him back to the bed. "Listen to our Head Cleric and get back to bed at once!"

Flinching, Storm turned to his mother, desperation crossing his face. "Mother, please," he begged, unable to stop his voice from cracking. "At least let me talk to Brother. Tesarah doesn't deserve to have her freedom taken from her."

Freedom.

She was already shackled to the life of having to take care of a group of orphans like herself.

And Xenor just added a cage around her.

Liss stiffened, her dubiety evident on her face. "I know how much Tesarah means to you, since she's your first friend, but we can deal with this matter after you have healed. Now, to bed," she commanded after a moment, her expression hard like stone. Bayne was nodding his agreement.

Storm clenched his fists, biting on his lip in frustration.

I cannot wait.

Tesarah cannot wait.

"I'm sorry, Mother," he whispered, gazing at his mother apologetically. Liss raised an eyebrow. "But I cannot follow that order."

Then he broke into a sprint, shoving past Zana and Silix who stood in front of him, and barrelled his way through clusters of surprised clerics. He heard Zana shrieking behind him, and Liss yelling at him to return. Bayne was roaring.

He ignored them.

Stampeding down the hallway, Storm staggered, his head spinning nauseatingly. He gasped, slowing down, and leaned against the wall for support. The black spots had returned, swimming gleefully in his face, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to compose himself.

Don't overexert yourself.

Don't overexert yourself.

Calm down.

That was when he heard a plaintive cry, coming from further down the corridor.

He stumbled forward, and found himself in front of Xenor's room.

"You pathetic, insignificant bitch!" came Xenor's voice, and Storm froze at his brother's acrimonious tone. "You can't do anything right!"

Storm's thoughts wavered as he momentarily wondered what 'bitch' meant, until he heard it.

Sobbing.

A girl's voice.

Tesarah was sobbing.

Storm slammed open the door, his face contorted into an expression of uncompressed rage. "Brother—" He paused abruptly, eyes growing wide at the sight before him.

Tesarah knelt on the ground, her face in her hands, and Xenor towered over her, an irascible scowl on his face. In his hand, he held a pair of razors, and in the other, a few strands of white hair.

White hair.

Storm glanced at Tesarah's hunched, trembling figure once more. Her long, beautiful hair had become cropped, uneven. It was then he noticed more white littered on the carpeted ground around her.

Tesarah raised her head, and fury convulsed within his chest.

A welt had appeared on her cheek, and tears stained her face, still streaming down from the corners of her turquoise eyes.

"Did you know that you're supposed to knock before coming in, little brother? How discourteous," Xenor sniffed, crossing his arms over his chest. He made no effort to hide the razors he was wielding as he shook off the hair entangled between his fingers, nose scrunched.

"What did you do to her?" Storm seethed, giving his infuriatingly nonchalant brother the deadliest gaze he could muster.

"I merely punished her," Xenor responded flatly, gazing back at him levelly.

"Have you no shame?" Storm flared, clenching his fists.

"Have you no shame?" his brother shot back, rolling his eyes. "Barging in like a demented hooligan, and causing such a ruckus in my room." He tossed the razors on to the sofa with a casual flick of his hand. "Did that head wound make you dysfunctional? You're usually more reserved."

"Stop changing the subject, Brother!" Storm yelled. Tesarah stared up at him tearfully, hiccuping as she tried to stop her sobs. "Why did you do this to her?"

"She is my personal maid," Xenor growled, his tone one of exasperation. "I can do whatever I want to her."

"She is not your maid, Brother," Storm hissed. "She is a kindhearted, free person. She is my friend." His fists clenched, shaking from the burning anger growing inside.

"How ridiculous," Xenor scoffed. "Friendship is but an illusion. A dream, for royalty like us." He raised his head, tilting his chin regally. "And besides, I'm quite certain this filthy, trespassing commoner only wants to take advantage of you for your status as a prince."

"You do not know her, Brother," Storm spat. "You have no right to assume what she wants."

Xenor narrowed his brows, his green eyes gleaming with irked animosity. "Your insolence is astounding," he commented drily, stepping towards Tesarah.

The girl shrunk away from him, trepidation lighting up in her glassy pupils.

Storm stepped between them. Sky glowered at lime; aggravated blue battled with vexed green. "You will harm her no more, Brother." Crouching down next to Tesarah, Storm slid his hand into hers, gripping it tightly. She squeezed back, expression unreadable. "I will not allow it."

Xenor's scowl deepened further as he stared them down. "You dare to stand against me?" He flexed his fingers. "Do not forget your place, little brother. I am the heir to the throne."

"Just because you're the heir, doesn't mean you can do whatever you like," Storm snapped. "Just because you're the heir, doesn't mean that everything you do is right."

His brother cocked his head, a profound disapprobation written on his face.

"You were never like this before, Brother," Storm said softly, allowing his features to relax the slightest bit. "You were never this... nasty."

Perhaps it was just his imagination, but he thought he saw his brother flinch.

"That was then." Xenor took another step forward, after a second of deafening silence. "This is now." His green orbs glinted sharply, malevolently. "And you will return to me what is mine."

"Tesarah isn't yours." Storm stood, and Tesarah followed, quivering behind his back. "She will never be yours." His brother glared at him.

"I would hate to use force on you again, little brother, seeing how you are still recovering, but you leave me no choice," Xenor said darkly, lips set in a grim, straight line.

Another step.

And out came the foot, lashing out at the speed of lightning. Storm pushed Tesarah back as he swerved, narrowly missing the attack. The girl cried out, expression distressed, yet hopeful.

She was hoping to be freed.

She wants me to free her.

Storm swung at his brother, and Xenor grabbed his wrist, twisting his arm behind. He followed the movement, and managed to rip his wrist out of his brother's grasp.

I will free you, Tesarah.

I will free you.

Xenor jabbed at Storm's side, and he sidestepped quickly, watching his brother carefully, trying to predict his next move. A right hook—

Uppercut from the left.

Storm grunted as his brother punched him under the chin, and his head rattled. He tried to ignore the ill sensation he was feeling as the fight dragged on.

Roundhouse.

Parry.

Left hook.

Gasping, Storm drew back momentarily, trying to catch his breath. His vision was turning white, turning hazier by the minute. He gritted his teeth, and forced himself to stay conscious, to fight the feeling of fainting.

Sudden footsteps came from outside, and in stumbled his parents with Zana, Silix hurrying after them at the back.

"Xenor! Storm! Stop this, at once!" Bayne roared, and Storm faltered, averting his gaze to his father.

A fist connected with the side of his head, and a blaring pain exploded in his skull. He cried out, collapsing at the sudden agony sprouting in his head, and clutched it, curling into a ball on the ground.

The world waned around him, and he was vaguely aware of Tesarah screaming, Bayne yelling, Liss reprimanding, and Zana getting flustered.

Turquoise filled his vision, and he saw more tears.

Another stab of pain, and he moaned, wincing.

"His head wound's reopened," Zana's voice said anxiously. It sounded far off, as though she was speaking from a great distance. He felt hands on his back, soothing him. "We need to get him back to the medical centre, fast."

Strong hands lifted him up, his skull throbbed, and he couldn't contain the whimper in his throat. He could still hear screaming, which sounded remarkably like Liss. Darkness seeped in slowly, suffocatingly.

Claustrophobia.

His head was pounding, pounding, pounding.

There came more sobs, and his thoughts went to Tesarah.

He saw white when he tilted his head, right behind him, rubbing away worried tears. His body jerked, and as the blood gushed in his ears, muffling all the sounds around him, he heard the unmistakable, cacophonous voice of Xenor, bickering.

Storm glanced in the direction of the arguing voices, and through his blurring sight, saw his brother.

Xenor, with the green of his eyes darkening from infuriated umbrage.

The green which had lost its beauty, and turned to bitter black.