His brother shifted in the seat across from him, the couch was lush, expensive, and his brother had probably asked for child labor to be involved when it had been made. He would want people to suffer to make anything he used. Helped him sleep at night.
His whole outfit screamed out that innocent people made it for him while only being paid pennies in return. Or not paid at all. His fingers were laden with thick rings, fitted with gems that would have cost the GDP of most countries that were struggling to stay afloat in this fucked up world. Thick, gaudy things that made Brent's personal style want to hurl. It was something that only the truly wealthy thought looked good.
Brent had to be glad that he was seeing this side of the man. It meant that he wasn't hiding his intentions from him. While his brother might have lighter hair and lighter green eyes when compared to Brent's, that by no means meant that he was the 'angelic' version of Brent. Unless angelic meant that he was someone who could smile while ordering the worst possible things to happen to others. If that was the case, then yes, Brent's eldest brother was an angel.
The last kind of angel that anyone ever wanted to cross paths with.
In the outside world, the man wore suits that were muted, polite. He didn't wear rings, he didn't show off his wealth. He was demure, deflated, compassionate. Brent had hated seeing the man's face plastered all over the news while innocent civilians had praised him for doing charity work. It was so obviously a cover to anyone who knew better. Like Brent.
Brent knew the best that any work he did was probably done by Colby. The man never lifted a finger, even when it came to harming Brent. He always had someone else do it, and make them think that they had thought up the idea on their own. He was that kind of man.
"Brent, it hurts that you would be so suspicious of us. Didn't we give you a warm welcome, even as you dirtied our home?" Brent wanted to laugh, but knew that would be the wrong response in this situation. He'd dirtied their home? They were the one who'd beat him up! They were the reason their 'home' was dirty! He fucking hated this.
Why was this the only kind of 'warm welcome' that Brent had ever fucking received? Was it too much to ask for hugs, or hell, a handshake like normal fucking people? What was wrong with them?
"Is this how you greet everyone you haven't seen in years?" Brent asked dryly, his lips swollen. His brother smiled softly.
"It's a special welcome, just for you Brent. You should feel honoured." His brother told him and Brent did give a soft laugh then. Yeah. Honoured.
"Well, since we've finished the 'warm welcome' would you mind telling me why the fuck you took me in the middle of a job?" Brent asked, straightening his back as he shook the hands that were clipped behind his back. "And what is this about? What the hell could I even do to you? I'm a Guide." Brent told him coldly. He felt a shift in the room.
That was still a tense topic it seemed. How that was Brent's fault, he had no idea. It wasn't his fucking fault that they had all tried for years to have another Guide born into the family so that Brent wasn't the only one made and they had failed. He was a damn A Class Guide.
Brent knew several people who would kill to be in his position. Several people who would love to have the origin story that Brent had, and if that had been it, Brent would have found it a great origin story too.
It was the bitterness, anger, and everything else that came with his birth, powers, and everything that entailed that made Brent not grateful for what he'd received. It was a good thing he'd met Kellen on the front lines. Otherwise, Brent could see how his bitterness could have twisted him.
His brother let out a disappointed sigh. Brent watched him as he shook his head slowly, clearly putting on a show that he was disappointed in Brent's words and probably, his behaviour. He had always taken any chance he could to be disappointed in him. He tapped his fingers against the arms of the chair he was sitting in. Asshole.
"Brent, I've heard what Guides from your Guild can do, so I just took proper precautions." Brent felt his eyes widen at his words. What Guides at his Guild could do? Brent wasn't officially apart of any Guild, like this fucker had asked of him.
He was under contract, but that had always been allowed. What the hell was he-
Brent realised what exactly he was referring to, and Brent wouldn't lie and say that he didn't feel a shiver of fear run down his spine. He knew why his brother was bringing it up. He was warning him. He was making a statement.
His brother knew about where Brent had been, who Brent had been with, and the people that Brent cared about. He was speaking about Kellen, and the incident where Brent was caught on camera being involved with Kellen as he beat the shit out of some stupid as fuck Guides.
Brent had worried that maybe his brother would find out about it, but when his grandfather didn't mention it, Brent didn't think anything of it. Brent should have worried. He should have been very concerned.
"That's from a man who has two functioning hands, brother. I'm not like him, and I'm just his assistant. Plus, I'm on contract. I'm not actually part of the Guild." Brent shrugged, his heart racing so hard in his chest that he was worried he was going to pass out. He needed to be casual, he needed to show that he wasn't panicking. "Because of the new gate that's on the front lines, work trickled to a stop. I think I signed the contract for a year? Maybe six months?" Brent told him and watched as his brother's expression didn't shift.
"Signed a contract." His brother repeated. "Without consulting us?" His voice was dangerous, quiet, and Brent stared at him.
"I've never consulted you before, and I've signed plenty of contracts with other Guilds before. Why is it now that you care? Is it because grandfather finally passed?" Brent asked, and another wave went through the room. Brent blinked.
He knew that no one in this room liked his grandfather, but even then, that was a big response for them. They usually tried not to react to anything that had to do with him. Brent watched as his brother narrowed his gaze slightly.
"How did you find out about that?" He asked softly and Brent glanced at Colby. Colby's jaw tightened. His brother followed Brent's gaze and he let out another disappointed sigh. "Colby. What have I told you before about having a big mouth?" The scolding made all colour fade from the other man's face.
He fell to his knees, pressing his head into the stained carpet.
"My deepest apologies, sir." Colby sounded choked, like he had done something completely unforgivable. Brent wanted to laugh. The only reason Colby had told him was because he had wanted to hurt Brent. That was why he had said it.
Apparently, he was supposed to keep the fact that his grandfather passed away a secret.
"You are forgiven, but remember it in the future." His brother warned, and Colby nodded with his head still pressed against the carpet. "You can stand again." His brother told him, and Colby got up in a way that was undisruptive to the rest of the room. It was almost impressive, if it wasn't for the fact that Colby glared at Brent.
Like Brent was at fault for admitting that he knew something. Brent was just trying to survive by himself. That was all.
"So, you know that our grandfather has passed. How does that make you feel?" His brother asked, and Brent swallowed. How did he feel? He felt like his heart was shattering into a thousand pieces. He felt like some beast was scratching at his insides, tearing him up inside. Blood was pooling already, and everything hurt.
It had been a nice distraction to have Colby beating him up because he could focus on that pain instead of the one that was tearing him up from inside.
"Well, he was old." Brent said. The whole room clearly thought he was going to say something more after that, but he didn't. His brother blinked slowly, staring at Brent and Brent shifted awkwardly on his feet.
"That's…it?" His brother said carefully. Clearly, they were expecting a certain kind of response from him, but Brent wasn't exactly sure what that response was. Did they want grief? Sadness? Brent wasn't dumb enough to do that.
He knew that if he showed a second of true care for the other man, he would probably get beaten up again. Brent shrugged.
"I cut ties with him when I left, the same way I cut ties with you guys." Brent told the room and he could feel how the others were whispering to each other. His brother didn't look convinced.
"I don't believe that because you kept getting prosthetics from the company." Well, that was a pretty good observation, except both him and his grandfather had already come up with an excuse for that. Brent felt his eyes curl up as he smiled. It was bitter, and his brother froze when he saw it.
"You know as well as I do that he was a man who was capable of feeling duty, don't you? Why wouldn't he send me a new arm when he was the reason I lost it?" Brent said the words and it was like the room held its breath.
It had not been his grandfather who had cost him his arm, but he had acted like it had been his fault as soon as it happened. Brent knew the truth, that it was a shitty power grab on his actual father's side and it had failed. It was actually a miracle that Brent had survived and only lost an arm in that failed power grab.
Brent had been meant to die that day.
It was also known to Brent in the years that followed that while his father had been the face of the failed power grab, and had consequently been kicked out of the family, it had actually been his brother who had been whispering in his ear to do it.
His brother had wanted to test his grandfather to see what he would do when someone tried to take his position from him. He had gambled, lost, but got to see something even more important.
How his grandfather would react to a rebellion.
Everyone in the room knew that, which was why they were nervous about what was going to happen next. Brent's brother laughed, his fingers tapping on the edge of the couch he was leaning against.
"Well, I can't argue that point. It isn't as if there are that many people who can test our products either. Most people in our Guild are healed by our Healers before they can lose a limb." It was a dig but Brent was used to that one. Brent shrugged.
"Exactly. I'm sure you saw the reports I had to send in as well. It wasn't like they were exactly free." Brent countered and he watched the room quietly as they processed his words. He fucking hated moments like this. He hated playing like this, dancing like this.
He just wanted to live, damn it. He didn't care for political games like this.
Just let him guide people, drink, and live his life.