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 long abandoned single-room cabin carried an atmosphere of death and lives long forgotten. making his emptiness more profound. Dane silently pried up broken floorboards with his dagger, tossing the pieces into the half-collapsed brick stove.

The High King once told Jax that war forges bonds of brotherhood stronger than mountains but can render the strongest of bonds threadbare. Jax brushed sleet off his cloak and placed his sword on the table. The painful chill was one thing, but Dane’s judgmental looks felt colder and more unyielding than the storm.

Thought you were leaving,” Dane said.

Jax looked away. “Please, Stop.”

“Go outside. Defeat the weather,” he urged. “Glory awaits.”

“Don’t do this.”

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

Heat surged through Jax’s cheeks. “You’re wasting your—”

“I was your oldest friend,” Dane snarled. “Brothers! Until you spotted glory and left us for dead.”

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

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

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

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

Dane snorted. “You’ve always believed the end justifies the means. Today was no different. Charlie and Pan died for your selfishness. Don’t you even care or want to know how your best friends met their end? The Demons pressed us against the cliff. Pan took a spear through the neck to save Charlie. We jumped to avoid the spears and arrows. I hit water. Charlie hit rocks.”

The ceiling beams creaked against the howling wind.

Jax’s guilt flared. The steadfast resolve that cemented his confidence and guarded his deepest fears burst open like an exploding volcano. “Yes,” he cried. “Mission success mattered more than your lives. A hard choice confronted me. I left you all on that ridge to buy me the time I needed to do what you wouldn’t. If not for that, for me, we’d all be dead, and the Demon Lord’s armies would still be pillaging our villages and murdering our kin.”

Dane slapped the table. “The cost, Jax. You didn’t weigh it. You never do. You threw away our lives for your glory.”

The rickety cabin shook under the stress of the storm. The sting of guilt mixed with his heat of rage. But Dane’s words added the one thing he couldn’t face…doubt. “You’re a coward.” Jax sneered. “You fear hard choices and your mettle is weak. I was also on that ridge. You fought closest to the demon’s flank and saw the same opening I did. But you ignored it. I saw your decision and fought my way past you and broke through. I did what you lacked the courage to do.”

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

“That’s convenient. Truth is you’re spineless, stealing strength from others because your tiny little heart doesn’t produce enough courage on its own.”

“Pain exploded through Jax’s face. The punch knocked him 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. Mine stays on that table.” Jax climbed to his feet and opened his arms. “Strike me, coward! Kill me. Avenge your brothers. Sate your pain. Rid the world of Jax the Tyrant. Jax the Betrayer. Balance the scales.”

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

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

The ceiling creaked.

Dane’s shoulders sagged. “You deserve death for abandoning us—for Pan and Charlie. Honor demands no less. Pick up your sword.”

Ceiling planks snapped, collapsing the entire roof with 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. Wind and sleet ripped into his face. Jax freed his arms enough to leverage his body above the snow with a couple of heaves.

Fragments of wood and thatch littered the white canvas between the crushed walls. Jax shielded his eyes from the hail. He dug through the snow until he located a boot. Dane’s leg jerked. He 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 very soon.”

Jax squinted. “If tonight doesn’t—”

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

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

Dane scanned his surroundings. “The table. Dig it out and put it upright 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. A chilling shadow danced with the pulsing dim light. 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, red bloodshot eyes, and a frozen white beard. You look like a bearded maiden from one of those terrible street stage plays.”

Dane puffed. “I can relate. Been seein’ your ugly face my whole life. Spent years teaching myself not to react to it. Your parents offered us all free lessons.”

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

A long silence lingered.

Dane exhaled. “Don’t know if I’m right, but your call was selfish. I want to hurt you and put my pain on your shoulders. You can bear it. I can’t. You’re right. I’m not strong enough.”

Jax reached over to grip Dane’s forearm. “I’ve always envied your intelligence. Leaving you on that ridge 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?”

Dane added a torn piece of cloth to the fire, causing a bright, but short-lived flare.

“We’re not getting past this, are we?” Jax asked, knowing the answer.

The silence stretched. “I don’t think I can,” Dane said, rubbing his hands together. “When we were kids, Sword-Master O’Connor told us that only two things can break a brotherhood: women and war. I’m adding your selfish arrogance to his list.”

“Then be honest, and also add your cowardice?” Jax spat back.

“Your shite-ugly face is what I’ll add.”

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

Dane bumped Jax’s shoulder. “There’s no coming back from this.”

Jax woke up. Sunlight poured 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! Don’t die. Your reckoning! You haven’t killed me yet! Dane!”

A smile cracked the ice on Dane’s beard. “That’s right.”

Jax exhaled. “Not funny.”

Dane’s smile disappeared. “Wasn’t a joke.”

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

The End