Half Moon Rising-Chapter 9

Notes:

• Sorry I took so long to write this chapter….

• I hope this chapter doesn’t seem too choppy…

• Previous Chapter

Chapter 9 Barriers

“Oof!” Esben watched as Artham flopped down onto his bed, and he soon followed.

“I’m beat,” Artham said. “How are you not exhausted?” Esben lay with his eyes closed for a moment, then answered,

“Probably because I didn’t stay up all night like you did.”

“Oh. Yeah, I forgot about that.”

“And unlike you, I actually enjoy being around people, so I don’t have to fake it all the time.”

“What are you talking about? I wasn’t faking anything.” Esben laughed a little.

“Between you and me, Arth, you’re a terrible liar.” Esben expected his brother to laugh back, but Artham only sighed deeply and fell silent.

What is wrong with him? Esben thought to himself. Well, I guess it’s pretty obvious. But why won’t he ever really talk to me any more? Maybe if I can just get him to talk about something that’s not related to Mama and Papa, or any of the ceremonies coming up.

“Are you going to bed yet?” Esben asked.

“Nah, I’ll never fall asleep. Maybe in a while. What about you?”

“I’m actually not tired yet.” Artham nodded.

“I guess the council went pretty well for you, then. How do you feel like it went?”

“Everyone is trying to help us, Artham. It’s kind of nice. And talking with Odran was great. I’m still really sad. It still hurts. But I feel less awful. Yesterday I thought it was the end of the world.” Esben rolled over onto his elbow and looked down at his brother. He caught a glimpse of his brother looking so empty and hurt and lost, but as soon as Artham felt his brother’s eyes on him, his face was instantly under control, wearing the empty, closed off look he’d had all day.

“Artham…what’s wrong?” Esben said it as more of a statement than a question. He wasn’t asking if something was wrong. He knew it was.

“Nothing is wrong. I’m fine. Really. But thanks for caring, Es. Are you okay? You’re the one that’s going to be ruling the country in a couple weeks.”

And you’re the one that’s going to be protecting it, Esben thought. But he didn’t say anything. He tried to think of how to answer Artham’s question. He knew his brother was trying to help him. He almost wanted to answer with Artham’s now typical, ‘I’m fine.’ But Artham was all the family Esben had left.

He couldn’t risk losing him too.

Had he lost his whole family in that shipwreck?

Stop it! Esben told himself. That’s not going to happen. It hasn’t happened. I’m imagining things. Artham will be okay. We will be okay. For real.

“I guess I’ve already told you most of it,” Esben finally replied. He got quiet again, giving up all hope of conversation. The silence got longer and more awkward until Artham finally spoke.

“Well, if there’s anything you need, or if you…want to talk about something…I’m always here for you.”

Up till now our conversations have been very one sided, Esben thought.

“If you’re actually up for talking, then tell me why you’re acting so strange.” He said it with an insistence that surprised even himself. Artham looked up at his brother for a quick second, then turned his head back down.

“Es, I can’t-” Artham’s empty voice took on that tense depth that Esben didn’t recognize.

“Tell me.” The brothers stared at each other for a few seconds that seemed much longer. Esben’s heart ached with the grief that filled him, and it showed on his face. Artham’s face was unreadable. Even Esben, who knew how to read his brother’s face like an open book, couldn’t tell what his brother was thinking. Yet in the few seconds that passed, a few tiny flickers of emotion crossed Artham’s face, so tiny that Esben thought he might be imagining it. For one flicker, Artham’s eyes were so full of hurt, but the next second his face showed nothing but fear.

“Uh, I-I have to go.” Artham bounced off the bed and headed for the door.

“Artham, wait-”

“I have to go. I’m sorry.” Artham closed the door softly behind him.

. . .

Artham rushed into his room and sank to the floor, burying his face in his hands. That didn’t last long. He got up quickly and began pacing the room again, running his hands nervously through his hair.

What am I doing? Why is everything going so wrong? I’m such a failure! Artham started to breathe harder as he continued to pace his room. The weight of that day, and the day before, and all the days that would come started to weigh so heavily on Artham that he felt like he was going to start to panic again. He couldn’t do that. Absolutely not. He opened the window to the night breeze, taking deep, slow breaths, trying to calm himself down. He stared out at the dark woods beyond the castle wall, and tried to think how he was going to manage the next few weeks. Months, for that matter. If he actually wanted to think long term, than how in Aerwiar was he going to handle the rest of his life? Being Throne Warden? He was obviously making a big mess out of it right now.

That’s why I need to stop! I can’t fall apart when I’m supposed to be strong for Esben. I’m supposed to be helping him. I’m supposed to be stopping him from hurting. I’m just making things worse. How am I even supposed to do this? I can’t even think straight anymore. What should I do? I wish Aunt Illia was here.

But she’s gone. Just her name spoken in his mind sent a pang through his heart. The load he was carrying became even heavier by thinking of her and his parents, because that was what was really weighing down his heart. Just the thought of them, breaking through the wall that surrounded his heart, caused tears to spring up in his eyes. He blinked them away furiously and began pacing the room again.

He could not, would not, allow himself to think about…about everything. About the shipwreck, about his parents, about how alone, how hurt, how afraid he felt. Artham had a sinking feeling that if he focused on how he felt too long, everything he was trying to avoid would happen, and he would fall apart. He must not allow himself to be weak. Now, alone in his room, it was more than trying to keep a brave face in front of the country. The pain in his chest, the tears that sprung up without his bidding, the wild thoughts and actions caused by grief, he hated the feeling of all of it.

Get yourself under control, Artham, he told himself. Stop thinking about everything.

When he wasn’t thinking about the disaster that destroyed his life, all that was left to think about was everything he was going to have to do as a Throne Warden. He decided to go to the enormous castle library and find a few books on royal protocol, the duties of a Throne Warden, the crowning ceremony and such. Maybe if he read long enough, he would be able to stifle the thing that was making his heart hurt. He had given up all hope of destroying it. In the darkness of his room, something in him said that the pain would never go away, never be eased. The only thing he could do was hide it for a little while.

. . .

Esben stared at his bedroom door long after his brother had closed it. He hugged his knees to his chest as he sat on his bed, wondering what he was going to do now. He wasn’t sleepy. He wondered what Artham was doing.

Why did Artham leave like that? Esben got up and started pulling out his art supplies again and took out the canvas with a half finished sketch on it.

Why do I feel so alone? All the hurt that had been eased slightly talking with Odran came pouring back into him. Once again he found himself in the now familiar cycle of longing, loneliness, and grief. He wanted to go back in time and erase that awful day of the shipwreck. It almost felt like if he wished hard enough, his parents would reappear out of thin air. The shipwreck would never have happened. The Sea Queen would have landed safely in the harbor. His parents would be coming down the hall to bid the boys goodnight. Artham wouldn’t be so distant. They’d both still be panting from a playful wrestling match or something. While the fleeting illusion of what could have happened was comforting, it left even more sting in its wake. As his pencils flew over canvas, he whispered to the faces that were taking shape.

“I miss you so much.”