Yelena

  “Come on, carry me, put your back into it!”

  “Y…el! You’re…too heavy!!”

  “HUH?! DAAAD, LENA IS CALLING ME FAT— WAGH—!”

  The twins tumble down to the ground, one flat on his stomach while the other falls right over in a perpendicular pile of Oswalds. Groans of pain fill the pawn shop, and the man working the front leans on the finished walnut wooden counter. The older man wears a contraption of metal pieces atop his head with a magnifying piece at his left eye, observing some watches piece by piece, setting gears in line before gently turning to see that they work hand in hand, ticking perfectly. “Yel, you’re not fat. Go easy on your sister, and Lena— Use your knees to lift. You use your back, you’re gonna end up like your pa.”

  The two twins look up to find their darker haired dad hunched over the counter, beginning to lean back and straighten up his back for a satisfying three-part pop down the line of his spine. Yelena grimaces at how loud it is, making her spine shiver while Yelyas groans at his father’s response.

  “She’s gotta match me! How else are we gonna match up for the guard?”

  “I’m not going into the guard though, Yel.” The woman frowns as suddenly as a pair of spectral blue hand reaches for the peaks of her shirt’s sleeve, lifting her up and off of the boy beneath her and setting her down gently. They begin to pat her off and Yelyas climbs to push off his heels, the gentle glow of blue in his eyes as he sooner dismisses the spectral hands.

  “Okay, fine - yeah, someone’s gotta be around to help Dad, but come on! If I’m the muscle out there, someone’s gotta be the muscle here!” Yelyas grins at the two as he comes around to the counter, sinking down to let his arms stretch out just shy of his father’s work. “Gotta show the word the Oswalds mean business.”

  “Business? You mean like buying things, fixing them. and hoping to make a better profit off it?” Yelena asks before flashing her dad an innocent smile. Her father gives her a knowing look behind the magnifying glass he wears, finding the light in her eyes. “It’s tough work!”

  “Alright, it’s obvious you two can’t play the silent game anymore, how about you two go visit your mom, let her know that I’ll be coming in after I close up shop. That something you both can do?” Their father pipes up.

  “Hmmm, I guess we can stop by, we gotta join up with Evander and Lyra in a hot minute, but it wouldn’t hurt to grab a drink on the way out.”

  ”You’re nineteen.” Their father tilts their chin, looking up at them with blue eyes to match theirs.

  “And a half.” Yelyas grins at his father, raising a hand to point at the two of them. “Don’t worry, I’m just gonna get us some nectar— nothing at all!”

  Their father scoffs, knowing just what that promise means.

  “Yelena - watch him.”

  ”Yes, Dad.” Yelena chuckles, heading on out with Yelyas who keeps the door open for her. Just as the girl passes, she notices a similar smile just before Yelyas winks at her just before they step foot on the cobblestone path. “You’re not getting just nectar are you?”

  ”What? You a snitch? You know the deal, I go down, you go down.”

  “That’s not fair!” Yelena sighs, but Yelyas crashes his shoulder into his sister dear with his hands in his trousers pocket. The opposing expressions soon come to a level of frowns mirroring each other before the two share a laugh, bringing it right around.

  ”Yeah, well that's what happens when you’re my sister, Cow.”

  “More like when you’re my brother, Pig.”

  The two would continue down to the town square, the tavern just right across the fountain at the middle of the plaza area. People were already beginning to line the streets with food and treats to hand off to families to share the eventual giving harvest ahead. Some of the other kids were playing with the paper cutouts of their own creations. The sun is in a number of different patterns and some of them hung on strings to capture the beautiful sky’s blue color in paper dresses, birds, butterflies, and even little drawings of skies. The festivities are such a colorful and creative array that it’s hard not to stop and appreciate the people’s contribution.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “Hey, first one there is a rotten… egg?” Yelyas begins but his eyes rise to the sky, making Yelena follow his gaze. An orange and red glow unlike any other divided the sky ahead of them, flashing in the blue eyes he shared with his sister. Yelena tries to find her voice, but the deeper counterpart instead echoes out. “Lena… GET BACK!!”

  It’s all Yelena could hear just the fireball crashing to the middle of town ahead. The distinct sound of magic cast and the shrieks of men, women and children enveloping her senses just before the influx of the impact throws debris and flames down the town streets. Like the power of the sun, it’s heat washes through the path the two has initially set on, blaring out Yelena’s ears as the force slams the twins down to the ground.

  —

  Yelena doesn’t know how long it’s been, but enough time has passed that the waking sun that barrelled down has grown quiet, ash and soot caking the land like a fresh layer of snow. When the older twin wakes up, lying on her back with her chin to the sky. All her senses hurt. Her skin turns a chalky grey, her head feels hot in an odd wet, warmth and her body is trapped. She tries to open her eyes, Her left opens weakly with the last of the moisture of her eye keeping it sewing shut, but the right doesn’t feel like anything other than pain. Pain and coated in some sort of sticky thick substance. Raising her hand to touch her face meets the tear down her eye where her hand rises to show a glistening dark red along her fingertips, mixed with the blackened smoke and ash. Just above her, the solstice has long passed, blanketing them into a terrible night with nothing but the moon to watch over them. Turning her head so her working eye can see, she finds that the cold rubble that sits upon her is dressed in the tattered, black-tinged red coat that was made for him. Gifted on their birthday two years back and all he could ever want to wear to look snazzy for the time of celebration.

  “Y…Yel? Are you okay?” She tries to breathe. A cough echoes out of her and her voice is hoarse, dry from however long she was out. She tries to lift him up, and push him off her arms but Yelyas is heavy on her chest just as he was back in their Dad’s shop. “Yel— I-I can’t breathe.”

  “…Yel, come on get up.” Her lungs rattle, but compared to the boy atop her - they’re rising and falling at least. The longer she stays beneath him, the longer she realizes how silent it is. How silent he is. “Yel… Yelyas… answer me. You… You just want to be carried, don’t you?”

  Yelena feels tears line her right eye, why isn’t he answering? Gods, why does it feel like something has hooked her arm up? “Yel, it isn’t funny anymore— get up…! YEL!!”

  Yelena cries as the soot mixes in with the tears lining her face. Panic begins to set in, her heart racing over being caged down. “M…MOM!! DAD!! SOMEONE!! YELYAS NEEDS HELP!!”

  “Get up, you stupid cow!! Please! PLEASE!” The sibling cries as her hands ball into fists, feeling the same wet warmth trail her arms as wood splinters about where they have crashed. Where a wooden beam also meets just under her arm and right into her brother’s chest. Where red blooms out of his coat and soaks her own clothes. ”S…Someone… Anyone… Please…!”

  Then— in a blinding glow of red, Yelena feels the weight of her brother’s corpse lift with her plea. Her remaining eye not bathed in blood beginning to glow red as magic sifts and weaves into four arms, picking and lifting the rubble of the store beside them off of her. The weight off her chest gives her the breath she’s straggling for, like someone has finally relented from holding her underwater. Except, as she comes to stand, the arms cradle the boy in its arms.

  Perhaps she should be happy that magic has finally come to her aid. It had been years and constant lessons but nothing worked perfectly. Until now. Then turning Yelyas to her, the light in Yelena is overshadowed by her brother’s face, taking away the glow of life in hers in an instant.

  No… No. No! No!

  NO!!

  Yelena grounds back to her knees, uncaring to the prickle of rocks and broken splinters she sets back on. She doesn’t feel it— not over the burning pain in her chest and head already. A scream echoes from her side of the town. Her breath wavers from the sheer expel of emotion, warbling into a sob. Then one after another - Yelena weeps.

  Perhaps this world really is cruel - she thinks.

  After all… What kind of world lets her see how her own face looks in death?

  “Hello! Is anyone here?”

  Yelena looks back up, expecting the boyish voice to have come from her lookalike. Perhaps disappointment has come to wrought her, maybe even torment her. Yet, in the distance, one small ray of hope arises - familiar. But it’s hard to tell— she can’t see between the haze of exhaustions and the bright gleaming red beside her, still carying her brother’s body.

  Her voice tries to gather itself. Surely the other should have heard her own wretched screams, but if the world has deemed itself cruel already, then this one mirage before her final breath.

  “H… Here! We’re here!” Yelena cries out, trying to raise her arm as one of the extra set of spectral red arms soon raise to wave with her. Help— help will save him. Anything, anyone—

  Just please save her brother.