The pain of it all suddenly caused another rush of mories, ones older than many of the stars that populated the cosmos.
Alister... No... Sonoris had been stabbed like that back then, in the exact sa way.
They hovered in the endless bounds of space, golden blood drifting, a golden crown resting loosely on his head, and behind him, Alack held their father’s sword in hand, had run him through the back, piercing his heart. Alack himself also looked bloodied.
One could easily tell from the sight that both brothers had fought for an unknown length of ti.
Alack gritted his teeth as he pulled out the sword, golden cracks rippling around his body as he spoke words that perhaps he didn’t truly believe at the ti.
"I hate you, Sonoris, with every fiber of my being."
But then again... Alister’s mories fluttered as he wondered, was that really what he said?
So part of him wished to know how it all started, so his mories shifted again.
Soon, the scene changed.
He was back in that tiless place—in that golden garden, that small cottage, standing beside his brother, smaller, younger, gazing up at the towering figure they both called Father.
The man’s long white hair swayed gently as if caught in a celestial breeze, his eyes constantly shifting between deep purple and radiant gold. His presence carried an aura that was playful, mischievous, charismatic, yet endlessly commanding.
"Sonoris. Alack."
His voice had always been warm yet impossible to ignore.
"Why so serious? You look like you’re heading to your own execution. Cheer up!"
He spoke to little Sonoris, who was struggling to use his authority to create what looked like a small silver lizard.
Alack, far less bitter then, tugged at the Father’s white sleeve with a wild grin.
"Father! Which pantheons are we going to destroy today?"
The man laughed—an infectious, lodic laugh that held both pride and danger.
"Whichever ones stand in our way, of course..." he said with a smirk, kneeling to et both their eyes. "But listen closely. We only destroy what threatens to ruin what we create. Destruction without purpose is hollow—creation without protection is destined for ruin."
His golden-purple eyes locked on Sonoris first.
"Sonoris, you are ant to create. You will shape what cos after, build what endures."
Then he turned to Alack, resting a firm hand on his shoulder.
"And you, my fiery little one, must help your big brother protect it. Destruction is easy—but it must always be for the sake of what you both have built together."
Alister rembered staring at that blade, Restria, which felt impossibly heavy in his small hands.
"I can’t even lift it..." he muttered.
The man only chuckled, lowering his own hand to steady the blade alongside him.
"Then I will hold it with you... until you can."
Alack laughed brightly, swinging his own sword far too recklessly. "See, brother? One day we’ll be stronger than everyone!"
The man ruffled both their hair with that sa teasing grin.
"Stronger, yes. But strength ans nothing unless you rember why you wield it. Forget that, and you’ve already lost—no matter how many thrones you take."
Sonoris could still picture the last mont clearly—Father walking ahead of them across a field of stars as his figure began to fade, an identical hole in his chest. His heart was gone, his hair like a cot’s trail, voice echoing back to them one final ti.
"One day, you’ll understand. My two sons, builders and breakers both... you will be unstoppable—so long as you rember you are each other’s purpose. But if you ever feel lost, rember, I’ll always be around to guide you, as long as you both wish from the bottom of your hearts, I’ll be there."
The mory shifted, deepening—frozen in ti like an old star’s dying light.
Sonoris and Alack had run after him as his glowing figure began to fade, the hole in his chest glimring faintly with threads of dissipating light.
"Father, wait!" Sonoris shouted, desperation cracking through his usually steady voice. "Why do you have to go? You haven’t... you haven’t taught us everything yet!"
Alack stumbled forward too, his voice trembling in a way that, back then, was so rare for him. "You can’t leave yet! You promised to show us everything! Just—just stay with us, Father!"
The man paused mid-step. His shoulders rose slightly—like he was amused, even now—and a quiet chuckle escaped him.
"I’ve already fulfilled the purpose I was ant for, my creator is dead and my sons are groen," he said softly, his voice warm but laced with finality. He turned halfway, the glow of his ever-shifting eyes—purple and gold—catching the two brothers in their shared grief.
"By splitting my essence... I created both of you. Builders and breakers, creation and destruction, each a part of . What remains of now... was always destined to fade."
Alack’s lower lip trembled as his fists tightened. His voice broke completely as he cried out, "Then take it! Take what’s left from ! Just—just stay! Please!"
For a mont, the man looked at him in silence.
Then he laughed—a soft, playful laugh, so achingly familiar.
"Ah... my little troublemaker is crying. That’s rare."
He stepped back toward them, reaching out to ruffle Alack’s hair the way he always did, his touch gentle.
"Don’t cry, Alack. Everything will be alright."
His hand then rested briefly on Sonoris’s shoulder, warm and steady.
"You’ll both be fine. You have each other, after all."
His grin widened, that sa mischievous, reassuring charm radiating even now as his form grew fainter.
"I’m just taking a little nap. I’ll be back before you know it."
The words, so simple and lighthearted, had been the last thing he ever said to them.
And even now, as the mory faded, Sonoris could still feel the weight of that hand, the warmth of that smile... and the ache of a promise that had never co true.
Back then, they had both promised him.
"We’ll make you proud, Father," Alack had said with a grin.
"I’ll never fail you," Sonoris had whispered, fists clenched in determination.
The mory dissolved like smoke, leaving behind both warmth and ache.
Because long before betrayal, blood, and hatred... they had been brothers, guided by the sa hand, united by the sa purpose.
Sonoris gazed at his palm, his spectral figure floating in that tiless space. "Father, I need your guidance again."
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