The Reuniting of the Cloughs

Asri stood before the most unpleasant looking establishment he had ever seen. It was a tall, multi-level tavern made of a patchwork woods of varying colours and qualities, all bad. The windows were smeared and greasy, and even the plants outside were raggedy, drooping excuses for foliage. Asri frowned and straightened his doublet, watching some inebriated reprobates tumble their way out the door. 

Surely this can’t be the place, he thought, mildly despairing. No one of Clough stock would come here. Work, it must be a work thing. He wouldn’t come here through choice.

He steeled himself and made his way inside, stomach squirming. He was not prepared for the smell. Cheap, unpleasant ale was thick on the air but not as thickly as the overpowering stench of body odor and nasty cheap cigar smoke. Asri felt weak. Holding his breath, he scanned the room. The man he was looking for should have been fairly easy to spot. 

Slowly, he made his way past the tables, scanning faces as he went. He was just starting to lose hope when he saw a familiar pale face through the crowd. Asri’s heart almost stopped. The experience was utterly surreal. Even the man’s hair was a similar cut to Asri’s own, though clearly not well cared for and in desperate need of a wash. The face… It was a little rougher, with a couple of fresh cuts and bruises, but it was unmistakable. He was looking into a mirror of what could have been. 

Asri straightened himself. Now what expression should I use? Ah, I know! Warm, yet stately. Perfect . He fashioned his face into something he thought was just that, with his chin high and shoulders back, and strode his way over to the table without gaining the attention of either his doppelganger or the man’s companions.

“Erian?” he asked. 

The three patrons at the table looked up at him slowly, each of their faces rapidly shifting from annoyance to confusion.

“Lyssa’s pants,” one of the other two said, a man with a bent nose and a face of ginger stubble. “That guy looks just like you, Erian. You know, if you didn’t look like a fucking wreck.”

Erian shot the man a glare before looking back to Asri, his body unfolding as he rose to his feet with the worrying edge of a predator. They were, of course, the same height, but Erian wore scuffed black armour that showed off shoulders and arms which were a lot more toned than Asri’s own, and he wondered if his own brother could reach out and snap his neck just like that. The man looked like some rough, unpleasant mercenary type in all but that he had the fine, fair face of a nobleman. 

“Who are you?” Erian snarled through teeth. It was jarring to hear his own voice in such a tone.

“My name is Asri Clough,” he said, a touch more hautily than he should have. Surely it was obvious? “Your older brother.”

Erian raised an eyebrow at him, lip curled in a scowl. “By what, a day?”

Asri stiffened and cleared his throat. “About twenty minutes, so I’m told.”

Erian blinked at him, quiet a moment, but his severe face did not soften. “I don’t have a brother,” he said very quietly. “I dunno who you are, but this is a trick. Get out before I make you.”

Erian’s other companion, a scarred blonde woman, studied Asri. “He’s got your face, man…” 

“I can see that!” Erian spat at her. “He’s probably a mesmer-” His face snapped back to Asri. “Are you a mesmer?”

A flush of worry ran through his gut. “Uh, well yes but-”

Erian grabbed a bottle and smashed it against the table, ale and shattered glass pouring over the floor as he held the remaining jagged half up at Asri. The whole tavern stared at them.

“Drop the illusion,” he growled.

“It’s not an illusion,” Asri said, holding his hands up placatingly, hoping to buy himself enough time for some of the staff to intervene. “I swear it. I am your brother.”

“Erian, mate,” one of his friends said carefully, rising carefully to his feet. “Maybe put the bottle down, eh?”

There was a long, tense moment where Asri and Erian stared into each other’s eyes, and where the tavern staff still didn’t see this altercation intervention-worthy, before Erian cast the bottle aside. It smashed into pieces with an awful racket as cold sweat trickled down the back of Asri’s neck.

“You’re right,” Erian said. “All I need to do is bash him unconscious.” He grinned an unpleasant smile at Asri. It was shocking to see such a vile expression on a face that looked just like his. “Then the illusion’ll drop, and everyone sees he deserves a good glassing.” 

“Now wait a moment,” Asri started, holding up his hands with ever more vigor. “Let us just talk about-”

Erian was fast. Very fast. So fast that Asri, who still held foolish notions such as ‘honourable combat’ in his head, did not have time to react before his twin had taken a step forward and lamped him right in the face. The world went black quickly after that, before he felt pain, or falling, or anything at all.

Erian folded his arms as he stood over the imposter, his two friends coming to stand at his sides. 

“Any minute and that illusion’s gonna drop,” Erian said. After a moment he added, a couple of octaves higher: “Aaaaaaany minute now.”

The three of them stood staring for another minute or two as the rest of the tavern, now bored, went back about their business.

“Eh,” his blonde friend said. “Don’t think anything’s happening.”

Erian stared down at the mesmer on the floor for a little while longer. Another moment. One more.

“... balls.”

 

#

 

Asri woke up with an absolutely astounding headache and vision so bad he thought he’d accidentally summoned clones of himself. He blinked a few times and the clones merged into one. The realisation struck that the remaining clone wasn’t in fact a clone, but the dear baby brother that had punched him in the face. What an utter ruffian.

He glanced around, head splitting with the movement. He seemed to be in a small, grimy, horrid looking bedroom. He looked back to Erian, who was sat in a plain wooden chair by the bed, his arms resting on his knees. 

“Your face is real,” the brute said.

Asri rested his head down on the pillow again, despite the fact that it was scratchy and had clearly never been washed by someone who knew what they were doing. “In spite of the head trauma, I do seem to vaguely remember telling you that.”

Erian exhaled sharply through his nose. “You can complain about that all day or you can tell me why you’re here.”

“Because!” Asri exclaimed, his own haughty and outraged voice sending pain through his skull. “You are my baby brother! It is my responsibility to take care of you.”

Erian gave him a very unimpressed look. “You know, I’m finding it difficult to believe I’m the baby here.”

“Well, you are.”

Erian shrugged. “Asri is. Look at us. If we spent even a day together as babies we probably swapped names a thousand times.”

Asri’s eyes widened at him, his whole body practically vibrating with the affront. “I’M ASRI!” he all but yelled before grimacing and clutching his head. “I am your big brother,” he carried on, eyes closed and thoroughly annoyed, “and I’m here to look out for you because that is my job .”

When he opened his eyes again, Erian was glaring at him through eyes slit thin. 

“Aye? Then where’ve you been for the last twenty-five years?”

Nausea crept into Asri’s gut, and he was certain only a little of it was from the concussion. “I listened to our father,” he said quietly, looking down at the edge of the bed. “I was a fool. I’m sorry. Now that I know the truth I realise just how gullible I have been but he was my father. Why would he lie to me?”

“Just tell me,” Erian said. His voice wasn’t exactly cold, more… tired. As though he had given up on this subject long ago.

“I didn’t know about you for many years,” Asri began. “When I was about seven years old, I discovered an old picture hidden away in the attic. That was when father told me about you. He said that you had shown an incredible aptitude for the elements, so they sent you away to stay with another family where you could have the very best tutelage. I wanted to meet you, but Father said that we both needed to focus on our studies.” Asri’s mouth was dry. “I believed that you were living with this other family, learning to be an incredible elementalist. I thought you were cared for, that you were happy.”

“I wasn’t,” Erian replied. There was no feeling in his words, no blame. Just a cold, hard fact. 

“I know that now,” Asri said, finally looking back to him. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Erian shot back. He glanced off, idly looking about the room. “Made me who I am. I like who I am.”

Asri painfully raised an eyebrow at him. “An uncouth ruffian?”

Erian looked back to him sharply but after a moment, he looked away again almost sheepishly. “... yeah.” There was a long silence before Erian spoke again. “Why’d you suddenly decide it was time to come and find me?”

“The basis of my studies had concluded,” Asri replied. “I could only assume yours had as well. I thought it was time that you rejoined the family.”

The corner of Erian’s mouth pulled up ever so slightly. “The family, eh? Tell me about them.”

“Our mother…” Asri smiled sadly, his heart aching. “She died many years ago. A centaur attack. She was a wonderful woman.”

“Oh…” Erian’s voice was quiet. “And Father?”

Again, Asri’s heavy heart ached. “He passed away three months ago to a fever.”

Erian’s eyes fell to the ground, and his breathing became perceptibly shallower. Despite all his bluster, he seemed so disappointed. Erian looked up at Asri again, eyes fierce.

“So you’ve come to find me to ‘reconnect’ me to a family that’re all dead?” he snapped, and Asri recoiled, heart thundering. Erian’s eyes lost the edge in them, and when he spoke it was with a far softer voice. “Asri, is the real reason you’ve come to find me because you need family? Because your father died three months ago and now, for the first time in your spoiled little life, you’re all alone?”

Asri didn’t realise that his voice was shaking. “I have lost all those who were dear to me, yes. I am… alone. And I felt it. You never came home. I assumed you liked your new family better but after Father died, yes, I needed a brother.” He wiped a hand across his damp cheek. “So I started digging.” His eyes met Erian’s again. “And that’s when I found out you hadn’t been given to some other family. That you had been abandoned.” Asri’s voice caught in this throat. “All these years…”

“Why?” Erian barked. His tone was sharp, but it didn’t feel intended for Asri. “Why did they do it? Why didn’t they want me? We’re exactly the same. What was wrong with me ?”

“Apparently you lacked the traditional family aptitude for magic.”

Erian stood with such force that the wooden chair he was sat on was knocked to the ground with a clatter. He paced back and forth, hands on his head, his breathing heavy.

“How old were we?”

Asri grimaced. “Two.”

“Two?!” Erian shouted, turning on his heel and staring slack jawed at Asri. “They abandoned me because I couldn’t shoot lightning out my arse at two ?!”

“Unfortunately, the parents I once idolised fall further in my estimations with every passing day,” Asri said. “I’m so sorry.”

Erian folded his arms across his chest and paced back and forth, his armoured boots stomping heavily. “Why are you sorry? You were two as well, remember? It’s not your fault you’re a complete fucking idiot.”

Asri, immediately indignant, opened his mouth to protest but caught himself just in time. The more he learned, the more silly he felt for believing his parents all these years. His ignorance and unwillingness to question them meant that Erian never had any help growing up. He had no one, when he needed them most. He had returned to Erian as an adult. He didn’t need Asri, or any of the rest of the family. Asri needed him. He put his hand to his stomach, feeling sick. He should not have come here. He should have left Erian alone. This had been a selfish quest, varnished with a gloss of righteousness.

“It isn’t the only reason I’m here.” 

Erian gave him a skeptical looked. 

“Our family’s estate,” Asri said. “Half of it is yours.”

To Asri’s surprise, that seemed to agitate Erian more, and the boor all but snarled at him. “You’re lying. They didn’t even want me to exist; you think I’d believe that they left me half their stuff?”

“They didn’t leave you anything,” Asri shot back, bringing Erian’s pacing to an abrupt halt. He tried to sit up but felt fit to spill his guts, so he remained on his back. “They left it all to me. I can do with it as I please and in my eyes, half of it belongs to you.”

Erian stared at him, his eyes cold and hard. “Look, ‘brother,’ have you ever solved a problem without throwing money at it?”

Asri opened his mouth but no sound came out. There was nothing he could say to that.

Erian sighed, picked up the chair, and sat again. He looked utterly deflated. “I got thrown out of your family, got it? You seem to think I’m some sorta safety blanket to support you now the rest of them are gone. You came here to make yourself feel better,” he said. “So why don’t you throw your money at that? Get drunk, do drugs, get laid. I don’t give a shit. You aren’t here for me.”

The words cut into him like blades, moreso as they were salted with truth.

“I’m not normally one to admit my mistakes,” Asri said, the taste of his own humility foul in his mouth, “but I made a mistake in coming here. At least, I came here with the wrong intentions. I’m sorry. That does not change the fact that you are my brother and I do want to know you. Please, give me a chance to redeem myself - for both my ignorance, and my selfishness.”

Erian turned to him and rolled his eyes. “By the Six, we’re onto the pity part now.” He exhaled, shaking his head. He then shrugged one shoulder. “Fine, whatever. I guess I can’t actually kill you and I can’t imagine you shutting up unless I agree. Plus I, uh, guess I’m kinda sorry for punching you out. But only kinda, you got it? We can catch up or get drunk or whatever. I dunno what brothers do. But only if you don’t come on too strong, right?”

Asri grinned, even though it hurt. “I understand. You know, this might be the beginning of a bea-”

“I will hit you again.”

“Right. Okay.” Asri looked up at the ceiling, the cracks in it rotating slowly as his head swam, with the faintest of smiles on his face. "So… We're brothers then?" 

"You're not gonna let up, eh?" 

Asri shook his head gently, and Erian growled an annoyed little sound, despite the faintest hints of a smile on his face. 

"Fine," he said, rolling his eyes in resignation. "We're brothers. Just don’t forget - from what I’ve heard, most brothers hate each other."