Chapter Text
Chapter 6:
Let it Be, Then Let it Go.
Kayson was bored out of his mind, hand resting lax on the old pistol on his hip, not really paying attention to the meeting.
The year was 384 A.K, and the war was starting, finally. And it was a few months in with battles being won and lost already. Shadowthar was finished with readying their troops with training and firearms, and finished gathering their mages and Bloodcasters, despite some heated controversy with the matter of recruiting them unwillingly and some as slaves. Some of them were even children. And how that sent a shiver down Kayson's heart.
Now, Kayson wasn’t siding with the large commonwealth-like country. Not really. He was just brought into the fray by, well, Frey. They were practically brothers since they met in the old St. Nikolai’s Orphanage for Lost and Hopeless Children; he didn’t want to disappoint the man by going against him and siding with Loc, the bloody enemy. Besides, as a Bloodcaster, he would be drafted either way; at least this way let him be in the same battalion as his brother– the 173rd United Front.
This was a small war, or that was what the higher ups were saying. Kayson didn’t think that that was true; he’d seen the sheer momentous amount of paperwork and bills and such laid haphazardly on General Opeus’ aged and creaky wooden desk while he’d been passing it on the way to the war room; it was empty as the general was waiting in the war room. Still, he wasn't an expert in war expenses, so maybe it was normal for warfare to be so expensive.
Loc was a small country, mainly dealing with machinery and inventions while also doubling in farmwork because almost nowhere in Shadowthar was either warm or cold enough for farming. That meant they were smart enough to invent famous things that were used everyday like the clock or a and strong enough to spend numerous days harvesting in the heat and dealing with livestock. And for Kayson, those were good enough reasons to be a bit worried about the casualties on both sides. It didn't help that Kayson's parents were from the northern land, which made people skeptical about him.
He looked around the long sleek and new table, glancing at each officer seated in their wooden chairs. A few he knew, such as Colonel Hilgravens and Kayson's dear Colonel Azaámíum, both with attentive and respective expressions on their faces, as if they knew what General Opeus was saying. Something, easy, something, inexpensive, blah-blah-blah. All complete and utter bullshit. When he’d counted up some of the bills on the general’s desk, he had a number that was high enough to make Kayson’s eyes grow wide, even after he checked the equations again and again.
Then he turned to the young blond man with cropped army-style hair beside himself, who was staring aimlessly into the distance with dreaming eyes. A few months ago, Frey had fallen in love with a nurse in the soldier’s wards after he first saw her. Eleanor Churchave, the woman’s name was, with long dark hair and fair skin and a smile on her face.
He knew Eleanor well enough to be called accquatances after she sang to a few of his 'Caster soldiers before they passed on from their wounds and diseases, her voice sounding gilded and blessed by the Mōnaguider. A nice lady, she was. Kindhearted and with a fierce fury if one would do something that would hurt one of her patients. She would be perfect for his brother in all but blood and name, provided that she loved him back. Kayson didn’t think twice about her loving Frey back after all the longingful and loving looks she sent Frey’s way every time the man got sent to the wards. Whatever. Not his business unless she broke Frey’s heart or if he could tease his brother about it.
“Hello? This is the Head Bloodcaster to Lieutenant Colonel Haendstrom, you there, brother?” Kayson whispered, his voice low so as to not draw attention to them. Frey jolted, twisting his head to Kayson so fast that he thought Frey’s neck would snap. “Kayson, I swear ta fuck, if ye ever do that again, I’ll fuckin’ beat ya ta death.” His brother said, voice just as quiet as the Bloodcaster’s own. Frey looked flustered and pissed off and it was lucky that they were far enough from the others because, if not, they would be probably ridiculed and such and Kayson couldn’t take that blow to his ego.
“C’mon, Haendstrom. We’re brothers. You’d never do that,” Kayson grinned at him with sharp teeth on full display, teasing him with glee.
“I’m startin’ ta think that I should, ye donkey’s ass.”
“Nah, you’d never do that in front of Opeus. Coward.” He whispered it playfully, leaning his forearms on the table. “Who might wonder what your hero would do if he knew you weren’t paying attention to him?"
"I'm payin' attention; ya just caught me thinkin' 'bout a new battle strategy."
"Really? Mind telling me about it?" Kayson beckoned, "maybe we can tell General Opeus the plan." And the stage was set.
“You’d fuckin’ never.”
He smirked with a scar on his lips. “I thought that too, until you said you’d kill me, your dearest brother.”
Frey paused for a moment, then his eyes brightened. “Kay, ya know I could tell ‘im ‘bout Azaámíum,” Frey slowly spoke, a sly smirk snaking across his face with a bit of pride in himself. Oh, this little…
He glared at the younger man, but his brother just kept on smirking like a little know-it-all. “Just because I fucked one guy and I told you ‘bout it doesn’t mean that you can use it as blackmail.” He knew he shouldn’t have told him about the fact that he fucked the soldier while drunk as a skunk. Still, this is what he got for being intoxicated and blabbering about guys.
He knew Frey would never tell, for they knew each other too deep to snitch and Frey was better than that. Kayson would be flogged and whipped bloody in Sunneseeker Square if anyone else knew, especially if Opeus found out. The jury and courts dealt particularly bloody sentences to people like him.
“C’mon, Frey, don’t do that to me.” He faux pleaded to him, joking of course. Indefinitely. Beyond a shadow of a doubt. “I beg you, please.”
“I will tell ‘im.”
“Tell who what, Lieutenant Colonel Haendstrom?” General Opeus cut in, voice booming across the table and every head turned to them. Kayson might’ve heard Azaámíum mutter a curse under his breath, but he wasn’t too sure. Azzie cared for him like that. Frey flinched and Kayson gave a look at his, what? Lover? One night stand? He really needed to talk to Az, probably after the meeting. Yeah, after the meeting.
“N-nothin’, sir! Nothin’ ‘at would concern ya!” Frey spluttered, standing straight and head held high. Kayson frowned, straightening his posture. He knew Frey hated being proper, just like him. At least Frey could look convincing.
“Good. Keep it that way, Haendstrom.” And with that comment, Opeus turned back to the battle map in front of him, taking the attention of the room with him.
Kayson struggled to hide his scowl, but he played a straight enough face to not have anyone ask questions.
Posture straight and face blank, his brother turned his attention to General J.M. Opeus, eyes and face as attentive as Azzie and Hilgravens. Azzie was like that often, being practical and cutthroat. Always dressed in uniform and face stoic. The man used to be a gladiator in the Broken Arenas, a famous one at that, before having his leash bought by Opeus. Kayson despised the general, with his slavery and such, yet they had a sort of mutual respect between each other.
The Bloodcaster gave a glance to his brother, drawing himself out of his thoughts. Frey was blank-faced and nodding along, with all his thoughts of daydreaming or making jokes disappeared to the winds. He always paid attention, when his heroes paid attention to him. And when he did pay attention, he left Kayson alone, in the pitch black darkness, with no Sunne or Mōna in sight. And he was alright with that, sitting on his lonesome in the darkness, surrounded by all of his overbearing thoughts. He had to be. Because that was what brothers did.