Rules of Man: Brother

WORD ART by Ethan Steelman, Upper School

I

Lucius felt the blood covering his face, dripping from his brow, but he did nothing. The soldier on the floor groaned in agony. Lucius, his eyes wide open, his mouth still clenched, looked down upon the soldier. The two made and held eye contact. Brutus rushed to Lucius’s side, sword in hand, ready to defend him from any further assault. As Lucius looked the wounded soldier in the eye, the soldier spoke what words he could muster, weak from his injury. Upon his face, it appeared to be a yell, but the sound came out as a whisper instead.

“You… traitorous… coward.”

Lucius stared at the soldier coldly and without emotion. He hadn’t blinked yet since the attack. He tilted his head slowly and dropped the bloodied sword on the ground. Clang, cling, clang upon the cobblestones. The soldier lay there, motionless, surrounded by a pool of his own blood. Brutus bumped Lucius on the shoulder and whispered his name, reminding him of the situation.

“Lucius!”

Lucius broke his trance, turning back towards the crowd. For a moment, that was all he did. He looked and he stared. The crowd was still applauding their prince’s flashy display of dominance. As the cheering and chanting quieted, Lucius shook his head solemnly. As if finally remembering where and who and when and why and what he was, Lucius jolted forward a step, out of the pool of blood and in front of the crowd. He pointed to the twelve bodies which lay in front of him, ignoring the one that lay behind him.

“These men… killed their emperor!”

The crowd roared in rage at the suggestion of such a thing.

“These men betrayed their nation! These men forfeit their honor! These men shamed our name! These men… took our father!”

Lucius pointed to Magnus, who still stood in shock, isolated and alone, protected by none of the dozen guards present. Magnus slowly pulled his head upwards to face Lucius, who didn’t even bother to return the look. Magnus was afraid, more so than he had ever been. His gut told him to flee, to hide, to get away, but he couldn’t move. Panic paralyzed the poor prince. Lucius continued his declarations…

“We can not stand for that, can we?”

The crowd roared a reply, in love with their glorious prince.

“No!”

“Who here wants to live in fear of their own countrymen? Do you?”

“NO!”

“Then let every man know that THIS is the new punishment for crime!”

Lucius pointed once again to the twelve dead men on the floor. The crowd could barely be constrained at this point. Lucius embraced the glory and walked forward, arms open to receive his minions. It was clear that there would be little to no arguments about who was to succeed Claudius the Faithful.

Still frozen, Magnus thought about what Lucius had just said. Magnus did not live in fear of his own countrymen. Instead, he lived in fear of his own brother.

II

Lucius was to be crowned in five days. It had been less than a month since Claudius had died, yet it seemed that everyone had already forgotten him. Everyone except for Magnus, that is. Magnus lingered in the hallways, staring at walls and floors, wandering aimlessly for hours. Palace workers and nobility alike expressed their concern, but Magnus remained unresponsive. The only thing that ever broke Magnus’s trance was the sight of his brother. Lucius had often noticed Magnus as well, but he was always busy, running an empire and all. Magnus overheard Lucius speak of the coronation, the ceremony, the celebration. How could Lucius have forgotten so quickly? Their father was dead, and Lucius thought naught of it. Alas, today was different for some reason. Lucius stopped on his way up to his royal chamber. He approached Magnus, speaking softly.

“My brother, you must let it go.”

Magnus looked up at Lucius, hurt and confused. He remained silent.

“I know it’s not what you want to hear, but it’s true. Father is dead and gone now, and whatever this is that you’re doing won’t fix it. I’m sorry.”

“I miss him.”

“I know… I know. I do too.”

Magnus embraced Lucius for the first time in years and wept into Lucius’s shoulders. Lucius was surprised. Magnus had barely even spoken to him since his return, and now they were embracing. Lucius did not hesitate to hug his brother, holding him tighter than ever.

Yet, this embrace pained Lucius. He lied to his brother even as they embraced. It burned a hole in his soul, but Lucius knew that Magnus could not know the truth. Lucius did kill Claudius, and he would gladly do it a thousand times more to know that he and his brother were safe. Magnus would not understand, especially not right now. A single tear fell from Lucius’s eye.

“It will be alright, Magnus.”

Magnus and Lucius slowly backed away from each other. Lucius returned to his duties and Magnus returned to his wandering. Once Lucius was out of sight, Magnus wiped the tear and straightened his frown. Magnus stormed out of the palace with a certain energy in his step.

“Liar.”

Magnus walked for hours to reach the southern edge of town. Hidden behind woods and small huts was the Lake of Luna, named that way because of the way the moon’s light bounced off the surface in the night. Initially, it had been outside of the city walls, but as the city expanded, the past rulers decided to keep the lake intact, and it was indeed beautiful. It became something of a wonder. Despite the filth and grime of the city streets and those who lived there, the lake was gleaming. The water was as blue as any sapphire in the city and so clear that Magnus could see the fish swimming dozens of feet below. Even the fish were colorful, and beautiful in their own right. Most of them were small, as all the big ones were hunted for meals or sport. The lake was magical, mystical, and majestic.

Magnus came here often. He knelt down by the lakefront on both knees and closed his eyes. “Gods, grant me your strength,” he said, “and your wisdom, and your love, for I am lost.” Magnus heard no response, as he had so many times before. “My father is gone,” he continued, “and my brother doesn’t care.” Magnus began to feel his inner anger pushing its way to the surface. “Why should you choose to abandon me now, “ he pleaded, “when I need your guidance most?” The gods still gave him no response.

Magnus stood up in anger and opened his eyes. That’s when he saw it. It had been midday only moments before, but now it was as dark as midnight. The glint of the moonlight caught Magnus’s eye, hypnotizing him. His eyes washed over with a white, milky sheen, and he began to walk into the lake. The water was cool, and the subtle tide rippled against his ankles, then his thighs, then his torso. He laid on his back, and the water took him as he began to float. Elegantly suspended, he stared up at the moon, directly overhead and luminescent as ever.

Suddenly, Magnus was lifted, as if his soul had left his body, and he was transported, far, far north, back to the royal palace. He settled down in front of a door. After a brief examination, Magnus realized it was the door to the royal chambers. No one had been in there since his father’s death, except for the men who cleaned the mess. Magnus could not move, nor touch anything. He could only move his eyes and watch. And so he did. He watched as thirteen men broke down the door and drew knives on his father. He watched as his father squirmed in fear. He watched… as a fourteenth man entered the room, laughing. It was a familiar laugh, one Magnus had heard thousands of times in his life. It was Lucius.

“No,” Magnus breathed, but no one could hear him. He began to weep, then bawl, then scream, but he was helpless. He watched as his father was impaled dozens of times, Lucius watching in the corner.

“Lucius, stop them,” Magnus shouted, and Lucius seemed to look at Magnus, but he did nothing. Lucius held his stare at Magnus as their father’s wails slowed and quieted.

“Is this what you wanted, boy?”

Lucius melted into a man, tall and elegant. He was perfect, too perfect. He had to be a god.

“We once helped your brother, and now we have helped you,” Mars said, “Do what you must.”

The illusion faded away, into nothingness.

III

Brutus approached Lucius as he trained. Lucius was sweaty, exhausted, and laughing. Brutus couldn’t help but smile as he watched.

“Three at once, my friend?”

Lucius and his three adversaries halted at the sound of Brutus’s voice. Lucius was too tired to speak, but he smiled at the sight of his good friend.

“You know, you should really wear a helmet while training. A dulled sword may not cut you but it could still shatter your skull.”

Lucius caught his breath.

“How lovely and uplifting of you to say that,” he said sarcastically.

“Am I wrong?”

“I guess not.”

Lucius handed his sword to one of his opponents and walked to meet Brutus, who donned his full set of armor, helmet coddled in his left hand, blue cloak flapping in the wind. Lucius joked with Brutus about his obsessive professionalism often.

“What brings you to me this day, old man?”

“The preparations for your coronation are finished. And, despite my age, I could still cut down ten of you at once.”

“I don’t doubt it, my friend. Forgive me,” Lucius said mockingly.

“You are forgiven. Are you prepared?”

“Why would I not be?”

“You are about to become the Emperor. That… is a big deal. In addition, tomorrow is the day your father will finally be gone from the peoples’ memories.”

“He is already gone from mine.”

Brutus was saddened to hear that.

“I am all too well aware of that, and so is your brother.”

Lucius became defensive at the mention of his brother.

“What do you mean by that?”

Brutus lowered his voice so the others in the training arena could not hear.

“We both know what you did, but Magnus doesn’t. You could at least pretend to be sad, for his sake.”

“I have. Besides, he needs to accept that our father is dead. Grieving won’t change that.”

That angered Brutus.

“Well, of course not, yet he grieves regardless. Show him some sympathy! You are the one who caused this, after all.”

Lucius got angry in return. The whole arena could hear as he spoke.

“Well, what was I supposed to do?”

Brutus still spoke calmly.

“We have had this discussion a hundred times over. The result is always the same. What I am saying now is that you need to realize that Magnus does not know everything that you know, and after all, he is just a boy.”

Lucius grunted in frustration and turned to leave. Brutus did so as well. If Lucius wouldn’t do it, Brutus would do it for him. During his walk to the imperial palace, Brutus noticed the sharp and rather hasty adjustment of disposition among the people. The city was bright, bustling, beautiful, and alive. Brutus wasn’t quite sure why he was surprised to see such livelihood among the people. After all, they were to crown a new emperor tomorrow, why shouldn’t they be happy? The realization struck Brutus violently and suddenly. They celebrate the new because they do not know how the old came to its end. It was a rather discomforting revelation, but not nearly as discomforting as the one that struck him next. Magnus was missing.

IV

“What do you mean, my brother is missing? How can a prince just vanish? Was no one watching him?”

“I do not know, Lucius,” Titus said with unease and embarrassment.

“Well you’d better figure it out, and fast!”

Lucius walked faster than he ever had through the palace, searching every room he stopped by. He was furious, determined, annoyed, and scared. He was more scared than ever.

“Where is Brutus? I had only just spoken to him, where could he have possibly gone?”

“No one knows, Lucius. He discovered your brother was missing and alerted the servants, before vanishing himself.”

“He must have gone to search for Magnus,” Lucius grumbled.

“I’m sure your brother will turn up so-”

“I don’t want your sympathy, Titus!”

Titus stammered, unsure of what to say.

“Go find them,” Lucius grumbled, doing his utmost to avoid the outburst he knew was coming. He turned and walked back to his chamber, ignoring any and all who bothered him.

Brutus was already in the city, dressed in shining armor and a magnificent blue cape. The city crowds cowered and refused to take their eyes off of him. He had been walking for an hour already, clearing as much ground as he could, but he was only one man. He sorely regretted his decision to go searching alone, but it was too late to turn back now. He began asking the people if they had seen the prince. They all looked shocked when he asked, and none of them said they had seen him. After another hour of searching, Brutus had been joined by a few other soldiers who had been sent to join him. The four men in their shining army commanded entire streets just with their presence. As they neared the southern walls of the city, people began approaching them.

“Help us, there’s a boy stuck in the lake!”

“Please help, a boy is drowning!”

Brutus knew the boy was unlikely to be Magnus, but he went to see for himself anyway. At the very least, he could save the boy’s life. Lo and behold, it, indeed, was Magnus.

“By the gods… How’s he done that?”

“He’s… floating, sir,” said one of the soldiers accompanying Brutus.

“I can see that. Watch my armor.”

Brutus stripped himself of his armor and dove into the lake. It was a rather large lake, and Magnus floated unbothered in the lake’s very center. Though it was tiring, Brutus managed to reach him. The instant that Brutus placed a hand on Magnus, the prince woke up. He gasped, spun, and briefly fell beneath the surface. Brutus pulled him back up, and Magnus gathered his surroundings.

“What’s going on?”

“Not the time,” Brutus said, “can you swim?”

“Yes”

The two swam back to shore and collapsed on the beach. Magnus turned to Brutus, still struggling to breathe. After a very brief second, he asked the question that Brutus wished he would never have to hear.

“How long have you known?”

V

Brutus’s eyes widened. He pointed back at the soldiers accompanying him. He tried his best to remain calm, but it was obvious that he was beginning to panic.

“Get these civilians out of here.”

The soldiers did as they were told and began escorting away the city folk. Brutus placed his hand on Magnus’s shoulder, but Magnus swatted it away.

“Magnus, calm down. We can talk about this.”

“Answer the question,” Magnus growled out through the grit of his teeth and the clench of his jaw. Brutus opened his mouth and shook his head, unsure of what to say.

“Answer it!”

Magnus was shouting now. Tears flowed out of his eyes and down his cheeks. Brutus pleaded with the boy.

“Magnus, please, do not do what I think you are about to do.”

Magnus stood up and shouted, loud enough for the whole nation to hear. “How long have you known?”

Brutus stood up in response.

“I’ve always known!”

Magnus let out a sob of betrayal.

“Why keep this from me? Why protect him?”

There was a tone in the way Magnus spoke about his brother now. Different than before, when it was with love and trust. Now he was disgusted.

“Magnus, please, you have to listen to me!”

“No!”

“Your brother did what he thought was right!”

Magnus was astonished. They were alone now, the soldiers and people having left the area.

“How could he think that was right?!”

“Your father was dangerous, manipulative, and worse!”

“How can you expect me to believe you?”

Just then, Lucius entered view, surrounded by his personal guard. Magnus recognized some of them from his vision. Brutus turned to Lucius, clearly afraid. Lucius’s eyes met his, and Lucius knew immediately what was happening. Lucius’s gaze washed away, emotionless, the same as he had looked after slaying his attacker at their father’s funeral.

“Seize them,” he muttered. Brutus and Magnus couldn’t hear, but they could tell by the guards’ actions what Lucius had done.

“Run,” Brutus said, but Magnus was already on the rooftops. Brutus knelt down on both knees and accepted his arrest. Lucius walked up beside him, barking orders as he did so. He pointed at Magnus, running among rooftops.

“He can not be allowed to leave the city. Chase him.”

Lucius stopped beside Brutus, but Brutus refused to look at him.

“Why did you tell him?”

“I didn’t tell him anything, my prince.”

Lucius was annoyed at Brutus’s resistance.

“Is that so?”

Brutus looked up at Lucius, staring him directly in the eyes.

“Yes,” he declared, stone faced.

Lucius was surprised. Brutus was a notoriously bad liar, and he certainly wasn’t lying now.

“Another vision, then.”

“He’s had these before?”

“Yes, as do I. One of our family’s many secrets from the public, I suppose,” he muttered.

“Apparently, we’re descended from the gods.” Lucius was obviously being sarcastic, or trying to, at least, but Brutus wondered if Lucius really thought he was a god.

“A god wouldn’t arrest an innocent man, much less his own brother.”

“Do not profess to understand the gods, Brutus. It may cost you later.”

There was a brief pause, broken by Brutus’s soft, defeated voice.

“They won’t catch him.”

“I know,” Lucius said with a pain that surprised Brutus.

“You’ve changed, my friend.”

“Emperorship takes a heavy toll,” Lucius mumbled out with a noticeable lack of conviction.

“Emperors don’t have to be cold, you know. You could still be the same hopeful boy you once were. The boy your brother wishes you were.”

Lucius thought in silence for a long moment. Finally, he spoke.

“I wish you were right, but this nation doesn’t need a hopeful boy, it needs an emperor.” he said, a faint sadness in his voice. He walked away from Brutus, signaling for his guards to take him.

“You’re wrong,” Brutus shouted at him as the men raised him to his feet, but Lucius didn’t react. “It’s Magnus or your legacy! You can’t have both!”

VI

As the sapphire-laden crown was lowered onto his head, Lucius scanned the masses. The people smiled. They cheered and hollered. They praised their perfect prince, now an emperor, and by extension, a god. All of the nation’s emperors were hailed as gods, worshiped all the same, but Lucius didn’t believe that. A god’s brother would’ve been here, he thought. He smiled and waved to his loving audience, but all he could think of was his brother, and Brutus, though to a lesser extent. The audience had also noticed Magnus’ absence, but that was easily explained away with rumors of a mysterious illness. Lucius hated that his first act as emperor was lying to the people, but he felt that he didn’t really have a choice.

Lucius waved his last waves, then backed away from the balcony. He shrugged off the heavy fur cape he had worn for the occasion, but left his crown in place, untouched.

“Well, you’ve done it. You’re the emperor, at last,” a voice whispered to him. No one was with him, but Lucius was unbothered. The voice was his own.

“And it cost you,” the voice continued. “Your own brother despises you.” Lucius did not enjoy these self-reflection sessions, but he had yet to find a way to avoid them.

“What else could I have done? Let my father kill me, so that he may manipulate Magnus, as he once tried to do to me?”

“You’ve ruined yourself,” the voice said, ignoring Lucius’s question.

“I can still fix this!” Lucius barked, alerting a servant, but Lucius scared her off with one glance.

“Is it worth it?” the voice asked, the words slipping out slowly and deliberately. They hurt like a knife in the heart to Lucius. “It has to be,” he thought. “I’d do anything to make sure Magnus is safe.” Lucius looked down at the floor as he walked. He closed his eyes, trying to hold back his anger and his sadness. When he opened them, the palace had vanished. He was in a meadow, tall grass surrounding him, the sun setting in the distance. It was beautiful. In front of him stood two boys and, in front of them, a long, rectangular wooden box. The taller and obviously older of the two boys had his arm around the shorter, who was crying. Lucius instantly knew what he was seeing. It was Magnus’s mother’s funeral.

“Gods, why do you show me this?”

“You swore something that day. Do you remember?”

Lucius didn’t know who was speaking to him, but he couldn’t look away from the scene in front of him. He didn’t want to. Lucius felt the tears fighting their way to the surface, remembering what he had told his brother that day.

“I said I would protect him.”

“And have you?”

“Yes,” Lucius said without hesitation.

“You can not lie to a god, we see all, even what’s inside of you. You are only lying to yourself.”

Lucius burst out, losing all control. The tears flowed, and he let out a muffled sob.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, falling to his knees. The god made a noise, something between a grunt and a hum. He seemed pleased.

“Well, you have certainly tried. I cannot fault you for that.”

Lucius regained a small portion of his composure and stood back up shakily. He turned to face the person. He was shocked when he saw who it was. The man was tall, elegant, strong, and exuberantly confident. It was Jupiter.

“Jupiter,” he breathed, too shocked to actually muster the energy to speak.

“Who I am matters little. My message is the same. You must find your brother. Your fates are intertwined, and you are incomplete without each other.”

“How am I to do that? He hates me now.”

“He doesn’t, my son. He hates what he thinks you have become. You must prove that you are not the man he thinks you to be.”

“But how?”

“You will find a way.”

Jupiter began to disappear, sparks of electricity shrouding him.

“No, don’t go,” Lucius begged softly, but the god left regardless. Lucius awoke, still in the palace, right where he had left off. He was alone. He felt a strength inside of him that he had not felt since he left for war nearly four years ago. It was motivation, determination, a purpose. Lucius walked hastily to the staircase, going down rather than up, as he usually did. Once he reached the dungeons, he waved off the guard at one of the doors, stopping him only to ask for his key. The guard obliged, and Lucius opened the door. Brutus lay on a cot inside, turning his head to look at Lucius. Their eyes met, and Brutus could see the energy in Lucius’s eyes, as if lightning flowed through his soul.

“You were right,” the young emperor said. “I choose Magnus.”

“That’s not all you’ve come down here for, I presume,” Brutus replied, eagerly.

“I need your help to make this right.”

Brutus smiled and the two men embraced.