Threadbare Brothers

Threadbare Brothers

Icy wind blasted Jax’s face when he cracked the door open. He squinted through the blizzard and shoved the entry closed with his shoulder. He wasn’t going anywhere. Jax blew into his cupped hands to ward off the cold. Rotting wood from the walls and ceiling released a foul smell.

The king once told Jax that war binds people stronger than a brother’s blood or makes those same bonds threadbare. Jax brushed wet sleet off his cloak and placed his sword on the table. He tolerated the painful chill, but Dane’s judgmental glares felt colder and more unyielding than the storm. It was almost more than he could bear.

Dane pried up broken floorboards with his dagger and put the pieces into the crumbled brick stove. He gestured to the door. “I thought you were leaving.”

Jax looked away. “Dane. Stop.”

“Go defeat the weather,” he urged. Glory awaits.”

“Please don’t do this.”

Dane narrowed his eyes. “What would Pan and Charlie say?”

Heat filled Jax’s cheeks.

“I…was…your oldest friend,” Dane snarled. “We were brothers. Until you spotted glory and left us for dead.”

“Shut up,” Jax hissed through clenched teeth. “Does this fiction bring you peace?”

Dane’s face twisted. “They’re all dead, your arsehole. It’s not about me.”

Jax kicked a chair, snapping off a leg. “Your little universe stops at arm’s reach. I’m only the villain because you’re too weak to confront your grief.” He stepped forward. “Your pain doesn’t define me.”

The small fire popped and spat, casting angry shadows across the walls.

Dane snorted. “You’ve always let the end justify the means. Today was no different. Charlie and Pan died for your selfish glory. Don’t you care? The Demons pressed us to the cliff’s edge. Pan took a spear through the neck. To avoid the same fate, Charlie and I jumped. I hit the water. He missed…found the rocks.”

The cabin’s support beams creaked against the howling wind.

Jax’s guilt flared like a suddenly exposed nerve. The steadfast resolve that cemented his confidence and guarded his deepest fears burst open. “Yes,” he cried. “Success mattered more than your lives and more lives hung in the balance. An impossible choice confronted me, and I chose. I left you all on that cliff to buy me the time I needed to do what you couldn’t. If not for me, we might all be dead, and the Demon Lord’s hordes would still be pillaging our villages and murdering our kin.”

Dane slapped the table. “The cost, Jax. You didn’t weigh it. You traded our lives for your glory.”

The rickety cabin shook under the stress of the storm. Guilt and rage swirled within Jax. But Dane’s words added the one feeling he couldn’t afford…doubt. “You’re a coward.” He sneered. “You fear hard choices. Your mettle is weak. I was also on that cliff. You fought closest to the demon’s flank. You saw the same opening I did and ignored it. I cut my way past you and did what you lacked the courage to do.”

Dane’s fists clenched. “I’d never abandon my brothers.”

“You’re spineless, stealing strength from others because your tiny little heart doesn’t produce enough on its own.”

“Pain exploded across Jax’s face. The world spun and he found himself on his backside. Blood gushed from his nose as Dane towered over him, hand gripping his sword’s hilt.” Jax spit blood. “Pull your steel. But mine stays on that table.” Jax climbed to his feet and opened his arms. “Strike me, coward! Kill me. Avenge our brothers. Sate your pain. Rid the world of Jax the Tyrant. Jax the Betrayer. Balance the scales. C’mon. Do it.”

Dane spun away, heaving deep breaths, then turned back. “I’m not like you,” he spat. “I don’t kill friends and comrades.”

Jax cackled. “Comrades?” Sarcasm dripped off the word. “Friends? After today?”

The planked ceiling creaked. Dane’s arms dropped limp at his sides. “No. You should die for Pan and Charlie. Honor demands no less. I hate you for what you did. Pick up your sword.”

The ceiling planks snapped and entire cabin collapsed under the weight of the ice and snow.

The force slammed Jax to the floor, knocking the breath from his lungs. He shook off the pain and called out. Hearing no response, he clawed upward until his head broke the surface. Sleet ripped into his face. Jax freed his arms enough to leverage his body above the snow with a couple of strong heaves.

Fragments of wood and thatch littered the white canvas between the crushed walls. Jax shielded his eyes from the stinging hail. He dug until he located a boot. When he shook it, Dane’s leg jerked. He cleared the area around the legs and heaved Dane to the surface.

“You hurt?” Jax asked through chattering teeth.

After wiping ice off his beard, Dane pressed his palms onto his bloodshot eyes. “We’ll die if we don’t get dry and warm.”

Jax squinted. “If tonight doesn’t—”

“Shut up,” Dane shouted. “I owe you a reckoning and death ain’t gonna bail you out.”

“That’s genius. Save me so you can kill me?”

Dane scanned his surroundings. “The table. Put it against a wall.”

Together, they pried it free and scooped out the snow beneath it. They sat side-by-side, knees pulled to their chests as gusts of snowfall formed icy walls around them, quickly sealing them in. Dane used his sword to make an air hole in the snow then activated his flint box to burn the wooden handles of their knives. The fire lit the white interior with a faint, flickering glow. He made a second hole for the smoke to escape.

Jax chuckled.

Dane creased his brow. “Nothing about this is funny.”

“That’s because you can’t see yourself. Blue lips, bloodshot eyes, and a frozen white beard. You look like an overweight court jester.”

Dane puffed. “I get it. Been seein’ your ugly face my whole life. Spent years teaching myself not to react. We all did. Took lessons from your parents.”

They both snickered through chattering teeth, gazing at the tiny flame.

Jax lowered his head. “I’m sorry for what I said. Your plans and strategies have saved our lives more times than my blade.” He glanced up at the table's underside to reinforce his point. “I wouldn’t have fought back, even if you’d killed me. Because if you’re right…”

A long silence lingered.

Dane exhaled. “Don’t know if I’m right, but you acted selfishly. I want to fight you, to hurt you—put my pain on your shoulders because you can bear it. I can’t. You’re right. I’m not strong enough.”

Both men drew silent.

Jax reached over to grip Dane’s forearm. “I’ve always envied your intelligence. Leaving tore me apart. Still does. You, of all people, questioning my call makes it harder to endure because deep down…” Jax swiped moisture from his eyes. “…I’m terrified that you’re right. What if you had found another way? But I’ll never know, which puts their deaths, and my guilt, front and center.”

Dane added a piece of torn cloth to the fire.

“We’re not gonna get past this, are we?”

Dane stayed quiet for long heartbeats. “I don’t think I can.” He rubbed his hands together. “When we were kids, Sword-Master O’Connor told us that the only two things that divide brothers are women and wars? I know what he meant now,” Dane said. “But I’m adding your selfish arrogance to his list.”

“Then also add your cowardice?” Jax spat back.

Dane smirked. “And your shite-ugly face?”

Jax shook his head. “Until that, there was hope.”

Dane bumped Jax’s shoulder. “This isn’t finished.”

Jax woke up. Sunlight streamed through the icy hole. He elbowed Dane. “Wake up. Weather’s clear.”

Dane’s eyes remained closed and his head slumped forward.

“Dane,” Jax yelled, ripping his glove off to check for a pulse. “Don’t you do this. Dane!

A slight smile cracked the ice on Dane’s bearded cheeks. “You do care.”

Jax exhaled. “I’d punch you if I could feel my hands.”

Warm sunshine filled sky. Jax retrieved his supplies as Dane started clearing a path through the sparkling snow back to the citadel.

The End