Oh, hello there.
How are you doing?
A story you ask for? Would you like to hear the one about the cloth boy and the bull of—oh no?
How about the—already heard it, huh? Well, do you know why it is said twins are magic? No? I thought not.
Yes, I can tell you, for a price. Don’t worry, it isn’t a large one. You simply need to lend me your eyes, your attention, and remember, never go in the woods. It is a place so dangerous that it was never given a name because people were scared that it would give it power, who knows, maybe they were right. These twins used magic, and even they were lucky to make it out alive.
I don’t think you could actually go there, but you never can be too sure. Have you promised yet? To me and yourself? I’ll wait. You have? Good. Now let me weave you a tale: A tale of monsters. A tale of trust. A tale of family. A tale of magic. A tale of manipulation. A tale of sacrifice.
Two children sat, feet in a stream. The girl was covered in freckles, which looked almost like scars in the light. The boy was pale and sunburned. They had brown eyes and ordinary clothes, patched and washed time and time again. They would have seemed like perfectly ordinary twins,but for their hair. When their mother had seen them, she had said of the girl, “She is fire.” Of the boy she had said, “He is blood.” No one had understood this in the beginning, taking it as the mad mumblings of a woman who would soon die in childbirth. When their hair grew into those exact colors was the first time someone thought there was magic afoot. Admittedly, this did not mean much. In those days no one understood anything, not that we do now, really, and magic seemed like a good name for anything they didn’t understand. They grew up unbothered by these comments and happy.
At the age of four, the girl had a smile that lit up the world, a kindness greater than most adults, and a temper to rival a mountain of liquid fire, which is what they called volcanoes back when they had no clue what they were other than a death sentence. She was always running or talking, with a quick tongue and a clever plan. Her brother, on the other hand, was her opposite. He was calm and quiet, he did not speak for longer than most, and some thought him an idiot. This could not be farther from the truth. His mind was constantly moving, to the extent he got caught up in it and forgot that the real world was the one he was supposed to be living in. He had whispered to his sister far before he spoke to others. They found it amusing and spent a great deal of time giggling to each other. His sister was the only reason he spoke with anyone at all. They were best of friends, they held hands, laughed the exact same way, and they made a good team. It was them against the world and they both knew they would win.
The girl too had no real interest in other people. She was happy to help them out—solving problems was fun and doing it for others made her feel good—but she had no interest in forming a deeper connection. She was content with her brother. Why bother making new friends if you already have someone you know will be your best friend forever? The one person you know you can always rely on? They had their father, too, but he was… well, it’s complicated. I’ll tell you more about him later. For now, that is enough explanation and it is time to look at what the twins are doing.
The girl took a bite of a piece of jerky and tossed it to the boy. He did the same, tossing it back. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, save the sound of teeth ripping meat. There are many people you can enjoy talking to, but it is much harder to find someone whose mere silence is pleasant to be around simply because they’re there. The girl slung an arm over her brother’s shoulder and he leaned into her. They did not have names, for their mother had been thinking of good ones for a long time and died before she gave them. No one really wanted to call them Fire and Blood so they tried to come up with new ones. Many fit with the girl—Ember, Sunny, Flame—none were perfect so they called her all of them and she would turn her head for each and every one. The boy was, as in all things, her opposite, so names seemed to slide off him. The villagers would call them the twins, for there was only one pair of twins in the village and their father would call them children, as they were always a pair. They simply referred to each other as brother and sister, and those may as well be their names. After the apple was eaten and the core chucked into the steam, the girl spoke. “Do you think there are monsters in the woods or the grown-ups just made it up?”
The boy didn’t waste a second answering. “There are,” he said confidently.
“You think? Couldn’t they just be made up so we wouldn’t go in there? Because of wolves and bears?” the girl asked. Truthfully, the girl didn’t know either way, but she liked a good debate. Besides, adults made up all sorts of things, like fairies. They had believed in those for a long time, couldn’t monsters be the same?
“Then they would just say we couldn’t go in because of wolves and bears. What’s the point of monsters?” Brother pointed out. He never really got the point of making creatures up, there were already plenty of amazing things without those. He didn’t want monsters to turn out to just be another stupid lie.
“That would make sense if they were smart. Most people are stupid though,” said Sister, pointing out a universal truth of life. Brother nodded. This was not something he, or anyone else for that matter, could deny. “Want to find out?” she asked, as she was bored and was pretty sure they could take on wolves and bears, or at the very least tame them. Wolves and dogs didn’t look that different, so they would probably obey if they were given treats.
“Yes. When?” he responded. He would follow his sister into death itself and, truthfully, wanted to prove monsters were real.
“We can go tomorrow. We have to prepare and they’ll look for us before we get anywhere if we leave too close to dinner. We’ll need to get food and water, and spare clothes, too.”
“Also, weapons and paper to make a map and write of our travels.”
They talked longer, about what to bring and how to get it. Some of those things were necessary, most of them were not. They weren’t treating it seriously yet. In their minds this was just something that would pass a day of time, if they didn’t forget all about it in favor of something else. Still, that was when it all began.
Artwork by indigodeep on DeviantArt.com.