A roar erupted from the crowd, a wave of sound so potent it vibrated in Arthur's chest. Chants of his cousin's name filled the starry night. Bright lights exploded overhead, maybe it was a synch's doing?
On the stage, Lucius stood for a moment, one hand resting slightly on a dark-wood cane with golden details. He wore his signature bandana with a fancy white outfit adorned with gold and purple details. He offered half-hearted waves, looking as if he'd rather be anywhere else. Arthur, skilled in reading body language from a life of avoiding wrath, saw only profound discomfort. The crowd began to call for him to display his Flo. Lucius obliged with a sigh and, as if it were nothing, began to float into the air, a look of mock surprise on his face.
"Unheard of," Trysten muttered next to him, his voice a mix of awe and sharp envy.
The crowd marvelled. Synchs were rare, one in a thousand across Chimera, one in maybe hundreds of thousands in Leria, and they were witnessing the strongest of them all right before their eyes.
As time went on, Jacen selected people from the crowd to ask Lucius questions. He always answered, but with a lack of enthusiasm that seemed to annoy the Church officials that were there. The crowd, however, didn't care. Arthur found it strange how after every question, his attendant would repeat it before Lucius gave his plain answer.
Someone shouted, "Are you really blind? And deaf?
Jacen repeated the question. Lucius was silent for a moment, as if processing it, before he sighed loudly. "Of course I am blind," he shouted, shaking his cane in the air. "But it's too much work to explain to you all, so I won't."
The crowd was taken aback, but Arthur couldn't help a faint smile. It was a glimpse of the blunt, brave cousin he'd once known. His attendant cleared his throat and asked if anyone else had questions before selecting a girl in the back.
"WHAT SORT OF GIRL DO YOU LIKE?" she screamed, causing laughter to ripple through the crowd. Everyone laughed except Lucius, who seemed oblivious. Jacen repeated the question, and Lucius paused, letting out a quick scoff. "No one here, that's for sure," he snorted, drawing a mix of boos and disappointed awwws.
It was then that Trysten called out, "Would you consider yourself the Strongest Synchrite?" He didn't wait for Jacen to repeat the question. A beat of silence hung in the air, the crowd waiting. But Lucius simply smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno."
Another round of boos and laughter followed. Though confused, he didn't dwell on it. It was supposed to be a joyous event after all.
After the questions, a celebration erupted in the plaza. Drinking, dancing, and singing filled the night, drowning out all other sound. He and his sister were still too young for the heavy ale, so he stuck with water while feasting on the seasoned meats on his plate. Looking around as he ate, he saw Lucius scarf down mountains of food. It was honestly impressive. Jacen, on the other hand, was more refined, his slow eating a night and day contrast to Lucius's feast.
Arthur thought about talking to his cousin again, but something held him back. The memory of being brushed off all those years ago still stung. He also saw the number of people trying to get Lucius's attention, only to be apprehended by the officials. He thought it'd be pointless.
He saw Matthew, his second eldest brother, staggering around and dancing wildly near the Great Phoenix Statue, occasionally spotting a girl and attempting to woo her, only to fail masterfully, get dejected, and move on to the next. This was hilarious to Arthur.
He then shifted his focus to his older brother, who sipped his red fruit beer modestly. Upon observing him, he seemed restless, sometimes tapping the cup absent-mindedly, sometimes scanning his environment as if on high alert. Arthur thought about how much his brother had changed. The boy he'd known was a prankster-lazy, never really caring about anything. The man sitting opposite hum was mature. Almost...responsible?
Noticing Arthur staring, Trysten turned his eyes on him, causing Arthur to pretend he hadn't been looking.
"What?" Trysten inquired. "What's the matter?"
"Nothing...You just seem so different since the last time we saw each other," Arthur replied.
The answer seemed to strike a chord. It took Trysten a moment to respond, his head bowing.
"You are right, Arthur," he began. "Being part of the Order...being a Knight has made me realise what camaraderie is all about. What it means to be a brother. To have a family. I have reflected and realised I had been none of those things to you...and I am sorry."
He lifted his head back to Arthur, facing him straight on. The directness stole the air from Arthur's lungs.
"I am sorry I never tried to get to know you or learn your interests. But if it's okay with you, I wish to start over."
A lump formed in Arthur's throat as he digested his brother's words. Looking at him, Arthur saw a face full of determination and regret. He noticed Trysten's cup shaking, this confession was costing him. Arthur could see the spirit of a true Knight had formed in his brother.
"Say you forgive him," Freya whispered incredibly loud in Arthur's ear, making them both laugh. Even while stuffing her face, she had been listening the whole time, though she seemed more invested in the food than the emotional weight of the moment.
Arthur struggled to find the right words before finally managing, "I'd like that very much."
"Good!" Trysten exhaled, slapping his hand on the table. He drew a bit of attention, but the revellers quickly went back to their business. After a pause, he asked, "Are you interested in hearing some tales about the Brave Sir Trysten and his Knightly Adventures?"
Arthur's eyes lit up immediately. He even interested Freya, whose mouth was still full of food. Trysten laughed and began recounting tales from his time with the Order of Leria.
It wasn't long before the night began to wind down. With Freya falling asleep on Arthur and a slight drizzle of rain beginning to fall, Trysten decided it was time to head home...but not before finding Matthew.
They walked past Lucius's table, only to find that he and his attendant had snuck away when no one was watching. Just like that, they were gone. Left on the table were the mountain of plates he'd emptied, which still confused Arthur. He hoped Freya wouldn't become as gluttonous as him.
She complained as they woke her, mumbling about a really good dream. No matter the circumstances, she had always been a deep sleeper. By the time they left, the other commonfolk and nobles had gone, leaving the roads in the plaza quiet. Only the streetlamps offered comfort.
Where could Matthew have gone? They continued past the plaza, eventually confirming from a girl he'd been chasing that he had gone towards the slums.
The slums… a place for the poor, the garbage and the weak. It stank. The sewage could be smelled before they even entered. The only reason they ignored everything they had been taught about the place was the sound of their brother screaming in pure terror.
"Wait here." Trysten commanded, drawing his dagger and charging into the darkness without a second thought.
Arthur's body moved before his mind could catch up. He turned to Freya, grabbing her shoulders. "Freya. Turn back and stay in the Plaza until I come back." He didn't wait for her to respond. She just stared at him with quivering lips as he turned and ran straight into the darkness.
It didn't take long for his senses to be overwhelmed. The stench made it impossible to breathe; the darkness was his only comfort as he was forced to move slower to avoid colliding with anything. Instead, his leg caught something, sending him straight into the murky water. He cursed, trying to regain his balance but his hands sank into something cold and soft. The outline of a nose. The slack open mouth of a corpse. He scrambled back from the body, his heart hammering against his chest. Doubt began to creep in. He didn't know what to do. He wasn't a knight. He was a poor imitation of his big brother.
But then he heard the screams again, from deeper down the alley. The thought of losing another family member outweighed the doubt in his mind. Maybe this time, he could do something.
Steeling his nerves, he said a prayer for the body before walking further in. The alleyway spread out into a bigger opening. Fog clung to the ground, its origin impossible to discern yet the moonlight revealed the true nightmare.
Bodies were littered across the ground, limbs torn away, one decapitated. The massacre was fresh. Thoughts swarmed in his head until he heard it. A deep, wet, crunching sound. Then whimpers.
Peering around a corner, a part of him died that day.
He saw Matthew frozen on the ground, tears streaming down his face, watching as their older brother, the brother who he had just found again, being eaten alive before his eyes.