Noctisardor Bypass teach me to be a better man than I am now

He hadn't seen Ophelia in many days. Her scent dried up at the Bypass like cracked riverbeds in the summertime, and though Everett thought to pursue her, he had simply stared into that space of land where her trail had led the first day he'd noticed her missing, and had gone no further than that.

Were they to go after her? She had not been well. Should he find her? Tybault would if he did not. Had she meant what she had said to him? That she loved him? Her whisper and warmth pressed gently into his heart.

Had he ever heard those words before?

Everett traced the walls of the bypass to where Ophelia's scent line faded like the rest of her and his belly twisted. What if she died out there? He had never seen her face so gaunt, her ribs so prominent, her mind, so unstable, so unwell. And now, Tybault's scent mixed with the remnants of their sister. Leading outward, away, away.

He took a step to follow.

So much had happened since they'd reached the coastline. From finding Tybault to finding Ophelia, to losing Ophelia again. Evander's mind was a total mess. And even though he thought he got on better with Tybault than Everett did or ever would, their little brother's temperament was definitely reaching the end of Evander's long, long fuse. Parading in here and asserting himself like they were somehow less than him? Like he was the only one who had set out to find Ophelia at all?

Excuse him for caring about the well-being of his other siblings too.

Getting up in arms wouldn't solve anything, but doing nothing wouldn't change anything, either.

So Evander danced tonight. Danced with the moonlight and danced Tybault and his arrogance away. He hadn't freed himself from the Gilded Sea to be ruled over again.

He would never be ruled over again.

Evander caught the golden spin of Everett's back from the corner of his eye as he danced along the dusted grounds, and he called out, sing with me, brother! though already he could see the signs of a man lost in thought, the pensive slope of Everett's shoulders.

He could leave this place. Find Ophelia. Run. He could leave and never look back. They could find a way far from the Gilded Sea. Find their way along the real ocean, where visions still led him. They would never have to think of their parents or anyone again.

But Everett only took that one step forward. His second step hovered above the path both Ophelia and Tybault had taken before him and his brow furrowed, gaze fixed on the ground.

And Evander called out.

Evander.

Evander.

Sing for me, brother.

And he did. His voice rose quiet and low in the softness of the moonlight.

Oh, my brother,
for long we have waited
for long we have called out for the dawn.
The fire of the morning,
the rush of evening rain,
to dance and sing through every earthly pain.

A new song is starting,
a new routine begun,
I see it in the shadows of the dawn.
There's freedom in the morning,
there's promise in the rain,
to dance and sing without our kindred's chain.

Evander had hoped for something quick and fleet-footed, but Everett slowed him to a pondering sway. Aha! Hadn't he known some thought had sagged old Atlas' shoulders, the weight of some world pressed down against his back? And Everett offered him a piece to carry, one Evander gladly lifted away from his downcast brother, away from his heart and from his mind, which felt and thought always a little too much.

But he wouldn't be Everett if he felt or thought any less.

Evander joined his voice in a soft hum to accompany the easy tune Everett spun for him. Easy, despite these heavy things he shouldered.

Evander.

Evander.

What would he do without Evander?

He had never said the words like Ophelia had said them to him. I love you, he heard her again, as though she were still here, whispering in his ear. I love you, I love you.

But as Evander's hum rose with the rhythm of his paws against the ground, he heard the words spoken again, just in a different way. And his paws somehow felt lighter. Not quite as though he could touch the sun with them. But light enough he could put that second step down.

He offered nothing beyond the second verse.

Nothing, beyond his quiet voice, as Evander's hum still warmed the night.

I want to leave, Evander.

He hummed long past the end of Everett's song, not quite wanting the silence to feel so silent between them, not quite ready to abandon the fractions of levity they shared in these moments, around the crushing reality of Everett's desire. Evander kept on dancing, too, letting his thoughts untangle with the measured rhythm of his paws.

Reasoning came easier when you danced.

Why do you want to leave? he finally asked, practising his quick step behind his statue of a brother, holding back his own thoughts for now, even though he reckoned they shared much the same.

Tybault.

He had no other words but the name of their brother, and no use in hiding that from Evander.

He'll never see us as anything more than the fools we were in the Gilded Sea, but was that even true? Well, he might be able to see you as something of a brother one day, but it'll never be the same for me. Ophelia loved him, but Tybault never would.

And there was something else.

Something else.

But Everett couldn't share that again, and he closed his eyes as though covering his head with the fleece of the lamb.

If Evander had been watching Everett's face instead of dancing in the clearing behind him, he would have known his brother was hiding something else from him. But Evander was dancing, with eyes closed and thoughts fixed only on the words Everett offered. Nothing more than that, and he noted nothing in his silence, except the end of an answer.

And he laughed, rubbed with scorn. Yeah, I know.

They'd lived too long with lies around them for Evander to lie to Everett now. And even if they hadn't, he didn't think he had it in him to sugarcoat the things he saw. Don't get me wrong, he's been rubbing me the wrong way too, the way he's been heralding himself around like a boy saviour, and Evander puffed out his chest and laughed again, but he's just a boy, Rhett, and we're grown men. He's acting with the arrogance we had when we were his age. I say we talk to him, man to man, and if he doesn't listen, we can make up our mind after that.

Evander finally looked at his brother through the crack of a glance, C'mon brother. We've all had enough secrets and squabbles to last us five lifetimes. Let's settle this one like family should.