Little Brother
Stephanie
Gertsch
Alina
woke with the sun.
Patterns of light covered her white bedroom with gold brushstrokes. She stepped out onto her balcony to look down on the windings of the palace—the White Palace, the people called it. Her brother had built it to obtain glory when he first became the Elf King. Standing high in the mountains, the castle was neither wide nor straight but instead rambled and coiled in on itself.
The White Palace was not made to fend off attack; there was no need. Elves would as soon murder their own guardian spirits as attack the Palace. But superstition claimed those who became lost inside would never be heard from again.
Alina’s gaze ignored the cityscape below, drawn to where the sun rose over the distant mountains. The clouds began to gleam unbearably bright. The lady’s spirit stood beside her on the railing, at the moment in the form of a bird from the far south, white with a yellow crest.
The bird raised a claw to scratch at the feathers on its neck. “We traveled there. A long time ago.”
Alina rubbed the spot on the back of its head that it couldn’t reach. “Before we were Queen.”
“You have the look of one about to undertake a long journey.”
Alina held her windblown hair back from her face. “It is true. I have not walked below lately.”
Alina swept past the maid to stand in front of her bed. Even a fox-spirit knew what to do. Shyly, she dressed and undressed the Queen like a life-size doll. The fox was deft enough, proving her race’s talent extended beyond pick-pocketing.
“You may leave,” Alina told the girl.
“Yes, Mistress.” The fox dashed from the room, forgetting to curtsy.
There was more to the White Palace than could be seen: disturbing places, but necessary. Alina went down a spiral stair to the underground rooms, carefully lifting her skirt. Torches set in the wall made the shadows dance and spread Alina’s behind her like a cloak.
In her mind, she began to struggle against her resolution.
“We don’t like this place. There is a feeling of…I cannot say.”
“Cowardly feelings. How trustworthy.”
Silence. Then: “If you do not fear the place, why come here so seldom?”
“Why come often?”
“Duty.”
“If it comes to duty, I do.”
“It is obvious you can neither bear to come nor to stay away.”
Annoyed. “Is there a meaning behind these riddles?”
“As a rational Elf, you should be more equipped to find one than I.” The inner voice ceased, either in response to Alina’s wish or because it had said what it meant to say.
Alina walked through the dungeons. The prisoners acknowledged her with a nod when possible. Their chains varied according to the unforgivable crime they had committed. At the end stood double doors, looming like inhospitable giants. Carved into the doors in all ancient and modern languages was one warning, which Alina disregarded. She held up her hand, and the doors swung inward.
She entered a room as large as the feast hall in a great castle, but empty. Only in the center was a circle of blue fire, and in the center of the circle an Elf. Her little brother, Faran. He wore thin clothes and was barefoot. He looked as out of place as Alina herself.
He spoke without looking up. “I have counted the years, Lina.”
“Truly? And how many would that be?”
Faran laughed hoarsely. “Gullible as ever. One would think you, with the aid of sun and the stars, could tell better. But I think I have noticed some changes here.”
Alina wondered if he might have gone mad in the last hundred years.
“No bars,” Faran prompted. “Nor chains.” He stood with arms outstretched. “Only one insignificant Elf. Do you know what these walls are, Sister?” He began to walk forward to the circle’s edge.
“Tell me.”
“Despair,” Faran said.
There had been something wild in his face, besides the fire all the siblings had inherited from their parents. She imagined an animal, once tame but goaded into tearing at anything around it, even itself. She looked for the wild look now and didn’t find it.
She raised an eyebrow. “Not anger, or perhaps pride?”
“No, despair.”
“As you will.”
“What care have I for our older brother now?” Faran continued. “His aspect shall never penetrate this abyss which springs from the darkness of his heart. What he believed was his duty many years ago cannot affect me now. I have journeyed down dark roads and passed far from the beginning.”
At her silence, he said. “You were not always so cold. You cried on the day I was taken. The King held you back…”
“Stop!” Alina commanded. She did not wish to relive the day when her family turned on itself. She remembered the day he was born, she still a child and her other sibling long a man. Her child brother had fallen asleep while she read to him, and as an adult he had betrayed them all. In the sad hours after, she had realized he would be trapped forever unless he fulfilled one seemingly impossible condition.
“I’m sorry,” said Faran. “I never mean to cause you pain. In my worster moments I used to envy you—the only daughter. No land can bear two Kings. And yet…”
“Speak freely.”
“Our brother cares for his little sister perhaps more than anything else in the world. But he also made her into a caged bird. You are not defiant and therefore have greater happiness than other family members. The King acts always within reason. Do not give him a reason.”
“The King knows my loyalty. That will not change.” She stopped three feet from the edge of the circle and looked Faran straight in the eye. “You may be caught in the past, Little Brother.”
“It makes no difference.” Cautiously, he extended his arm until his hand hovered above her shoulder. She didn’t appear to notice. Neither did she back away. So seldom was she touched, she hardly knew how to respond. Finally she took one step forward and allowed his hand to touch her shoulder.
Now only an almost-invisible line separated them. He might step out at any moment.
“Do you wish, Sister, to know where my hope lies? Consider from my perspective. Look up in that corner.”
Alina turned obediently. The light from the fire circle didn’t reach the roof. Once she turned he moved to embrace her. As children they had caught each other like this many times.
“I see nothing.”
“You spoke truly,” Faran whispered into her hair. “The King would never punish you. He might, however, save you.”
Then his grip tightened and he began to force her backwards over the line. The barrier repelled her somehow, but she couldn’t break free.
Faran kept talking calmly. “How clever to design a dungeon with only one key. But for his sister he would find another.”
Suddenly, Faran gave a cry and released Alina, who fell to the floor. Over her shoulder, she saw bars rise from the circle’s perimeter and chains pull up her brother’s arms and cross over his chest. He struggled futilely, his face livid.
“Curse You! Curse you for a flatterer and a lapdog. You’re too cowardly to choose sides.” His shouts and the rattling of the chains echoed off the walls. “Do you hear me? You’ll always be weak.”
Alina picked herself up. She was older than many countries, and he had made her a fool. “I think, I know why the oldest rules. To make your release depend on your willingness to forgive shows true wisdom.”
“I hate him!” Faran shrieked. “Murderous tyrant, I hate him!” Then he stopped struggling and hung in his chains moaning “I will never get out. Never…” He hung his head and sobbed.
Alina watched in sickened fascination. “Stop,” she whispered, backing away.
“Don’t leave!” Faran called after her, “Don’t leave me here alone. Have mercy!”
Alina hesitated. “I’m sorry, Little Brother. I can’t bear it.” She clapped her hands over her ears, turned, and sped from the horrible sound. The rest of the day she saw no one. She knew she would descend no more, for she could neither help her brother nor comfort him. Yet one day he would walk free. It had been foretold.
She did not look forward to that meeting.
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"I am currently a student at Biola University in Los Angeles, majoring in English with a writing emphasis. Ever since I learned to write I've enjoyed working on both mainstream and speculative fiction--especially stories that look at reality in an unusual way. After I graduate I hope to continue writing by pursuing an MFA."
