The Black Sheep of the Family, Part 2

THE SLUMS of the Imperial City were, as slum traditions dictated, a conflictive place.

They were the gods-forsaken area of town where low-lives, vagrants and the unfortunate surplus of society would live — or at least try to, scraping together a miserable existence from unskilled labor, street vending, begging and crime.

Under the monumental force of the Imperial military, riots and public unrest were rare, but even the strictest authorities would turn a blind eye to petty disputes and the occasional fistfight.

So, in normal circumstances, a tavern brawl would be little more than a good evening’s entertainment. Crowds would cheer, make a bet or two, then call it a day and go to bed.

But this time around, the slums were flooded with soldiers, and not just of any kind. It was none other than the Palace Guard; the Empire’s most prestigious elite force, gifted in magic and armed to the teeth with the finest arcane equipment.

And yet, despite all their might, they were hesitant to approach their target.

Before them stood a lone individual, heavily drunk, yelling expletives while urinating in public. By all accounts, he should’ve been subdued and thrown to prison ages ago, but the soldiers of the Palace Guard showed no signs of even trying to engage him.

“Where is he!? Where’s my brother!?” shouted a voice, commanding but rattled. It belonged to Vahram Alessia, the acting heir of the Alessia family.

Arlene Calea followed close behind him, and soon, the two demigods were met with a captain of the Palace Guard.

“Thank the Goddess!” said the officer, running to them. “Lord Alessia, your brother has gone mad! He beat some commoners to a pulp, and he’s resisting arrest!”

“Oh Gods…” said Arlene, turning pale.

“Are there any casualties?” asked Vahram.

“Just a few wounded, my Lord. But if he were to go rampage here, in the middle of the city…”

Even with two demigods and the Palace Guard against him, a serious fight with Galardos would turn into a mass casualty event.

“You did well stalling for time, Captain. We’ll handle it from here,” said Vahram, dreading to see what his brother had become.

Just what in the world happened to him?

The two couldn’t help but wonder, as the captain guided them through the crowd.

After a few dozen meters, they saw him.

“Come at me, you feckless cunts! Caught me with my pants down and you won’t even rush at me? Cowards!” yelled the drunken demigod, a middle finger in the air as he pissed on a wall just off the street.

The regal, honorable man that Arlene and Vahram remembered was nowhere to be found. In his place, as if masquerading with the demigod’s body, was a vulgar wreck of a man, heavy with the stench of hard liquor, blood and urine.

“What in the heavens…” muttered Arlene, utterly aghast.

“I’ll handle this,” said Vahram, burning with shame. “Raise a barrier around us, and make it strong. If things get out of hand, we can’t allow any casualties.”

“Let me go with you,” she objected. “If we go together, then—”

“No, Arlene. This time, just this time... leave it to me. I can’t bear to see my brother like this.”

When it came to family ties, Vahram was closer to him.

Galardos had practically raised him, given that their father was always on Crusade.

And Arlene, well… she was his betrothed, but not quite his wife, and even that arrangement was in question following Galardos’ departure. So, to deal with a delicate matter like this, Vahram had the right to it.

“Fine. But if anything happens, I’m going in,” said Arlene reluctantly.

Vahram nodded at her, and then began the shameful walk to reach his brother.

They were some of the most excruciating steps in the demigod’s life, but soon enough, he came face to face with the lost son of House Alessia. The two remained in silence for a moment, until Galardos broke the ice with a dry laugh.

“Oh brother, of course you’d be here! But where are my manners?” he slurred mockingly as he adjusted his pants. “What a delight, seeing you again after ten miserable years. Have you been well?”

“As well as I could be. I was worried sick for you; everyone was.”

Vahram was sincere, but his brother shot him a skeptical look.

“Really?” he questioned as he wobbled on his feet. “Last I heard, you took my title from me. The new heir of House Alessia! It was all the rage back then.”

“What else could I’ve done? We were in crisis, Galardos. Emperor Damien died, and we had the Republican army at our doorstep. And you, our commander, went missing in the thick of it!”

“Right, and you just couldn’t hold the fort for me. You had to take my land, my men… and by the looks of it, even my woman! Oh man, what a harlot. I’m gone for only a moment, and the next thing I know, she’s thrown herself at you! Unbelievable.”

Vahram clenched his fists, struggling to keep his temper.

He and Arlene had done everything in their power to find Galardos and bring him home, yet there he was, throwing vulgar accusations at them.

“You know it’s not like that,” he defended himself, but his brother shook his head.

“No, I know nothing of the sort,” said Galardos, glaring at him. “You’d always been a bootlick, Vahram. Clinging to me since you were little, unable to even shit on your own. Stupid me, I always thought you were trying to learn… but you were trying to usurp me.”

“How could I possibly usurp you when you ran away from us? I stayed here to pick up the pieces, to have them ready for you when you returned. But now that you’re here, you’re like this? A dirty drunkard, pissing in public and beating peasants in the slums?”

“Well yeah, I’m a bit rough around the edges… I’ll admit to that. But I’m not the one fucking my brother’s girl.”

“Take it back,” said Vahram, his blood boiling. “Take it back right now.”

Galardos, however, only sneered at him.

“Make me.”

Vahram’s vision went white with rage, and before he knew it, he’d struck his brother square on the face. Galardos punched him back, and soon enough, the two descended into a street fight.

It was a shameful display, as the new heir of House Alessia handed his older brother a one-sided beatdown. Unwilling to make a spectacle of it any further, Vahram grabbed him and tossed the demigod inside a nearby warehouse.

Once inside, he pinned Galardos to the ground, ready to confront him. But against all expectations, Vahram soon felt the tug of a telepathic link trying to be established by his brother… and judging by the magic’s signature, the spell was heavily encrypted.

It was then that it dawned on him.

The whole fight had been a ruse — but to what end exactly, Vahram couldn’t fathom.

He hesitated to accept the link, but Galardos stared at him straight in the eyes with the same resolve he remembered. Despite all these years in exile, it seemed the old demigod hadn’t changed after all.

“Brother…”

“Vahram. I can’t sustain the spell for long so I’ll be brief. The Empire is in danger, more so than ever before. I must show you my memories, now.”

The urgency was so strong that it made Vahram shudder. Yet he quickly steeled himself, opening his mind at Galardos’ request.

A flurry of visions flowed into his mind, telling everything that had happened with Milla, the abductors, Angeline and the disastrous ritual that caused the spatial calamity.

The younger demigod staggered at the revelations, horrified by what he’d seen.

“By the Goddess…”

“I need to see Gizelle without anyone in tow. You’re the only one who can help me.”

And along that message, Galardos shared with him the details of his plan.

Vahram’s eyes went wide open with shock.

“You’re insane.”

“This whole matter is.”

“I can’t do that. One misstep and I’ll kill you!”

“Yes, that’s the point. Gizelle is a healer; I can’t sneak my way to her otherwise.”

“Galardos, there has to be another way.”

“Maybe so, but we don’t have time to find it. I’m barely holding on as it is.”

It was a detail he hadn’t shared with Milla and the others, but in truth, Galardos had been nearly crippled by Angeline during the resurrection ritual.

His aether pathways, the mechanism that let a demigod cast magic, had been pushed to the brink. Further usage could outright break them, with lethal results.

In his current condition, the only help Galardos could offer was to turn himself into a stepping stone for Gizelle to take over. And to do that he had to pull yet another ruse, this time with Vahram as the protagonist.

“Oh, my brother…” the younger demigod’s heart ached in his chest.

To think he had ever doubted him.

“We are the pillars of the Empire, Vahram. We are the ones who bear its burdens, who keep it standing through the tempest, who keep it safe in darkest times.”

He recited his personal mantra, as taught to him by his mother many centuries ago. Not once had Galardos forgotten, even after her passing. And to this day, they were still the words he lived by.

“Let me do this. For us, for them… for everyone,” pleaded the old demigod.

There was too much at stake, and if Galardos didn’t play his part, there would be disastrous consequences for everything he ever fought for.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I can’t do more,” Vahram lamented, pressing his hand onto his sibling’s chest. Galardos placed his own on top of it, holding it firm.

“You’ve done plenty, brother. I entrust the family to you.”

Then, with a strong surge of magical energy... the aether pathways of the old demigod were shattered to pieces.

A blast of mana ensued, destroying the warehouse around them as the magic in Galardos’ body went haywire. He screamed and thrashed in agony, but his brother made no effort to treat him.

He just stood up and walked away, abandoning him as he lay dying on the ground.

“VAHRAM, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?” roared Arlene, rushing to her lover’s side. Even at a glance, it was clear his wounds were lethal and well beyond her power to treat.

Yet the younger sibling didn’t answer, his face stone-cold as he left the scene.

“Shit! SHIT! Call for Gizelle, NOW! The guards, the Whisperveil! Anyone, get Gizelle here immediately!”

As she yelled the orders, Arlene desperately cast a healing spell to buy all time she could afford.

 And in doing so, she unwittingly played her role in her lover’s charade…