The doorbell rings, and the kids, who were sprawled on the floor, swiftly leap to their feet, abandoning their drawings of deformed people.
That's probably for the better. I refuse to admit that blob of black lines is me.
The next instant, they grab my wrists to yank me up from the couch, then proceed to drag me to the entrance hall.
"Quick, quick, quick!"
Guys, Bryan won't leave just 'cause we take a few seconds to open the door. But whatever.
Guess they're just that excited to see their uncle again, even though they've seen him just two days ago, though in their eyes, two days ago is already too long ago. In a corner of my mind, I fear they'll try to talk him into moving in with us during dinner. I wouldn't be surprised.
Anyway, I pull on the doorknob.
Huh? I feel a frown crease my brow as I realize I have to lower my gaze to meet my brother's. He's back in a wheelchair. Why? I've seen him walk on his own two feet yesterday, so he doesn't need to pretend to be wheelchair-bound anymore.
I don't have it in me to comment, though. Not in front of the kids, at least.
"Hello."
Bryan's greeting is curt as I step aside to let him enter the house before closing the door behind him. I respond in the same tone of voice, "Hello."
"Uncle, Uncle!" The kids can't give a shit about the awkward atmosphere and pounce onto my brother instead, eager to hug his legs. "Are you hungry? Father prepared a feast before leaving! He said to help yourself as much as you like."
"Mom also said she'd be bringing you expensive wine later!" Elois nods his head, taking Bryan's coat, scarf, gloves, and beanie to hang them on the hanger. He has to climb onto the bench to reach the thing. Offering my help would only serve to hurt his pride, so instead, I stay close and watch over his every move, ready to intervene if he falls. Not like falling from this height could hurt him, but still. "Anyway, Mom said not to dine-and-dash, and wait for them to come back home!"
I freeze, doubting my ears for a second. That doesn't last, though, as Elois puffs his chest with pride, almost as if he's just said something revolutionary.
Eve and her big mouth… Girl, don't make your son repeat your nonsense! She's so…! Urgh! I swear sometimes!
With a stiff smile, I eye Bryan. His mouth twitches. I can't tell if that's in amusement or annoyance. Still, my brother answers, "I have no obligation tonight, so I can wait for your parents to come back. No worry."
Both kids bounce in joy, high-fiving each other after Elois jumps down from the bench.
Well, that makes two people happy.
An awkward laugh escapes me, and I gesture to the dining room, "Anyway, let's settle around the table."
"Sure," Bryan agrees before pointing at his wheelchair. "Do you have something to wipe the wheels first, though? Unless you want me to put snow everywhere in the house."
Right, it's quite snowy outside today. Although the house staff can take care of cleaning the floor later, I'd rather not add unnecessary work to their already heavy workload. The kids love to make a mess out of the house, and their parents don't stop them. I mean, Eve cheers on the chaos and claps her hands in encouragement.
So, y'know, the staff has their hands full putting everything back in order at the end of the day.
I open my mouth, but no words come out.
It's the kids who speak for me.
"Wait a minute! We'll go upstairs to fetch you a towel," they chorus before spinning on their heels like spinning tops. They climb the stairs four at a time, and I can see their featherless wings tremble on their backs. They're resisting the urge to fly off to the second floor, aren't they?
"The children have a lot of…" Bryan pauses, and he offers me a stiff smile that mirrors mine. "Let's just say that they have a lot of energy."
Yeah, let's just say that.
A short silence falls between us. I can't help but stare at his legs and the wheelchair. I don't like the nagging doubt gnawing at my mind, but I don't feel like I have the right to ask.
"It bothers you, doesn't it?"
There's a bit of self-loathing in Bryan's voice. Again, I open my mouth, but I don't know what to say. What can I even say?
"…I'm just glad you can walk."
That's not a lie. I'm truly happy for him. It's not like we've been particularly close to each other these past few years, so I can't complain about having been left in the dark.
"Unfortunately, I can't walk, or at least, not naturally." Bryan shakes his head, and I can't help but throw him a questioning glance. I saw him walk just fine yesterday. "I can't go into details per my contract, but I can at least tell you this: I use a cheat code when I need to go on the field for an investigation. It's not exactly something good for my body, so, well, I refrain from using that method when unnecessary."
My heart sinks into my stomach.
"The nerves below my knees are still necrosed." Bryan shrugs, speaking as if he's not talking about himself, but someone else. "The damage can't be reversed, even with the help of a healer. Anyway, that's all I'm able to say about that matter. I hope you understand." He sighs. "Just don't fret over it too much."
Don't fret over it? But how?
My hope was just dashed, and brutally at that. My brother being wheelchair-bound has always, always, been a thorn in my heart. Seeing him stand on his own two feet yesterday might have come as a shock, but I was also overjoyed. It lessened the guilt that's been holding me back for years, too.
And now, my brother's telling me that's not a permanent thing. His legs are still injured. Beyond repairs.
Fine. Considering what happened to him, it's to be expected. I know it's to be. Yet…
Somewhere deep in my heart, I guess I hoped for a miracle, for something that could reverse the damage done by the venom of a basilisk's bite.
In reality, Bryan is unbelievably lucky that only the nerves of his lower legs had been affected. The venom could have spread further, or his bones and muscles could have festered, too, which would have led to an amputation. In the whole debacle, there had been two saving graces: the basilisk was a young one, and our father gave Bryan the antidote just in time. It limited the damage, and my brother didn't return home as a corpse.
Still, if I could, I'd give him my ability to walk and be wheelchair-bound in his stead. That's how things should have been from the start.
I was the one who was supposed to go on that hunting trip with our father, yet I didn't. I don't remember why I fought with Bryan, or why he talked our father into leaving me home, and even less why he went in my stead. I only know we fought over a stupid reason. After our mother's death, we either fought like cats and dogs or gave each other the silent treatment.
We acted like brats.
To be fair, we were just young teens.
It was a period of our lives I'd rather not think about too much, even if we should probably talk about it one day and put everything on the table, but that's not going to be tonight, not with the kids around.
We also have other matters to attend to first.