《Broken Stars》


 Written in the Stars

    Felix


    From the day I was born, I was told I was destined for greatness, the great poem spoke of me, they were sure of it.


    Interwoven souls,


    born as the stars sing spring,


    and fall.


    Opposite ends, of a broken world,


    tied by destiny.


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    With power, to destroy


    or save


    the world.


    That''s the poem, I was not the first, there were many before me. Every 100 years the royal families would go down to check on the war, Wolves in the East and Angels in the West. Every year, as if the Stars themselves commanded it, the queens would birth, on the opposite ends of the world. I was born on the 8th round. I, Felix Argenti. I was the polar opposite of Adrian, long white hair, always neatly tied into a bun, with pale white skin to match, piercing blue eyes, the color of ice, and thin pale pink lips. Usually there''d be one boy, one girl, opposites and all that.They''d fall in love, get married, and have have twins, one Angel and one Wolf. The people weren''t sure what to think when the news reached the Top of the World. Luckily, there minds were quickly changed when they saw us, two baby boys. I with my curls and giggles, Adrian''s blank staring eyes. They thought it was written in the stars, the two of us, sword brothers.

 Written in the Stars(2)

    Adrian


    From the day I was born I was spoonfed the spiel, destined for greatness, opposites and balance, all that. I didn''t care. There were few things I cared about then, the people, my family and Felix. It wasn''t until our 8th birthday that he spoke directly to me, before I had simply stood by and watched. He was so full of life, dazzling emerald eyes, olive skin, rosy cheeks always full with a smile, dark curly hair. He was like a bumblebee, buzzing happily as flew from person to person, spreading the honey that was his words. He seemed to talk to everyone but I, sitting next to him, watching him over my book. We trained together, ate together, learned together, lived together basically. I saw him, always, yet he never seemed to see me. I would hate him if I could, but I couldn''t, no one could. He was epitome of perfect, a master sword fighter, archer, known best for the artwork of his spear. On top of that he was a violinist and pianist and painter and a million different things. At 5 I watched in awe as his spear tip traced perfect lines in the air, swift feet below him, steady. I watched him dive into the lake after training, hair gleaming gold in the sunshine, he surfaced, shaking the water from his hair. The usually silver water seemed to spin out in droplets of gold around Felix, a laughing boy, oblivious to his beauty. I would fly, wind cooling the blush of my cheeks, as I watched the miracle boy run as a wolf cub below me. This is what it means to live.


    Felix


    I was always told to be perfect, my father expected no less, sometimes it seemed he expected more. "Control is the ultimate power." He lived life by these words, he wanted me to live by them as well. At five I remember kneeling at the base of his throne, I could barely see the outline of his face in my periphery, even if I could stare straight at him, he was always cast in shadow. I do not recall every having seen his face, only the glint of his green eyes, like mine, I feared, eyes identical to mine. I do not remember his words, other thoughts running through my head as I knelt, though they were surely cold, uncaring. I was informed my training would start that day, my childhood was over. In the eyes of my father I was a machine, ready to be built. A stone was handed to me, smooth, a moonstone. I would have protested, but I knew even then it was futile. At five I was not ready to transform, the earliest twelve, but I was my father''s son, his heir, an extension of his honor. I would do what was expected.


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    I hold my Mother''s hand, she is he opposite of my Father, it was from her I got my black curly hair and olive skin, I wonder if my Father wished I was blonde and fair skinned like him. I look into my Mother''s eyes, silver, like the moon. I clutch tighter onto her hand. I stare up at the halfmoon, think about my afternoons here, Silver Lake. The water seems to glow tonight, all the wolves gathered, they are here to watch. My Mother leads me towards the center, towards my Father, the should be meters over my head by now. We have reached the center, around us the wolves spin. Circles represent the eternal cycle of the moon, I look up at the halfmoon. Darkness in my right hand, Light in my left, I twist them together and send a spiral staircase to the gods. Alunadro. He descends slowly, I can see barely anything, just a sharp claw reaching towards me. I brace myself, but it is not enough. The closest I have ever felt to this is burning, even then it hurts more than the flames ever did. Pure power is poured into my veins, they trace gold lines across my shifting palms. The smooth skin blends into fur. I let loose a roar of pain. My Father''s hand clench tight around me, holding me up for all to see, a pulse of gold energy is sent throughout and absorbed. The waters are still, wolves gone back to the forests they call home. Carelessly I am handed to my Mother and my Father transforms, emerging from the water as a wolf the size of a horse, then bounding off into the night.

 Written in Stars(3)

    Adrian


    After dinner I sat in my room, looking out the window, contemplating sneaking out for a flight later. I had grown recently and my wings could no carry me farther, I longed for the rush of wind, the freedom. Someone softly knocked on my door.


    "Adrian?" It was the butler, "You are wanted in the drawing room."


    "Ok," I replied, "thanks."


    In the drawing room, a fire blazed. Vincent (my father) sat in his usual green armchair, holding Celeste, Isabella (my mother) on the blue, cradled Julia. I sat on my rocking chair, gifted to me by Uncle Leo.


    "You finally joined us," Vincent said teasingly. "Want to hear a story? Or would you rather sneak out and fly?"


    "Story," I murmured, heat rising to my cheeks. "Sorry Vincent."


    "It''s fine," he smiled. "We all did that, right Isabella?" She nodded in agreement, absently fiddling with Julia''s hair. All of us had pale skin, long white hair and clear clue eyes. Julia and Celeste (twins) were merely a year old, but their hair was already waist level. Vincent handed me Celeste (he talked with his hands more than his mouth) and cleared his throat.


    "924 years ago, people discovered that among them, a few could harness energy. Back then they had fossil fuels, but those were ineffective and destructive. The energy they harnessed was a gift from the gods, Alunadro, Engelbreta, there you used to be more, but they have faded. We no longer know their names. Few could channel the power of the gods, but those who could ruled the world. For a while, everything was fine, but one day, war broke out." Vincent went on describing the great battles and the great heroes, I stopped listening, I did not care for heroes. I thought about Felix and how he never spoke to me, why? He talked to everyone else, but not me. I sat by and watched, and wished, but despite the stories of the gods, they didn''t seem to hear. I would have given everything and more for Felix.


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    "Adrian?" said Vincent, "have you stopped listening?" I nodded, and he smiled at me. "Tired?" I nodded again, still thinking about Felix.


    As I lay in bed that night I made a promise, the stars were bright in the night sky.


    "You''re wrong," I told them. At 6 I thought I could take on the world.


    Felix


    After supper, I was called down to Father''s study. My breath and pulse were slow and steady, but inside I felt fear twisting like a blade in my gut.


    "Enter." I did, "Want to hear a story?" The room was darker than the night, that was one of the powers of moon wielders, to control something means to be able to take it away at a moment''s notice, the moon is light, without it we are left with crushing darkness. "In the ages when men were men, real wars waged." I continued taking even breaths, "No one knows their names, but they are remembered forever. A giant of a man with a scar over his left eye." I felt burning across my face an unseen fire lashed across me. "Warriors who fought with their bare hands, known for their speed." Blow after blow was delivered, pain blossoming across my body, still I did not react. "And another, who killed 1,000 men everyday he lived."


    "Then he did not live." It had slipped out, in the dark room I felt his fury grow.


    "You should not have said that," He said. "You know I can''t control Him all the time."


    That night I lay in bed, staring at the bright stars in the sky. I made a promise, at six I knew I could take on the world.