Updated: Sep 28, 2021
Brothers at War
Writing Prompt: Write about brothers on opposite sides of a war, but who are not against each other.
Komosoni tucks his shoulders in and crawls. The trench has collapsed on itself in some parts. Still, he does his best to keep his face to the dirt. Lights of green, blue, red, and yellow pass swiftly over him, each with their own high pitched scream. He must not let them touch him.
Our soldier pushes his hands forward, pulling his body with them. The lights above regularly change the hue of the trench below. It reminds frightened Komosoni of days he longed to see again. Days when magic was used to light firewood, or heal broken wings. This hope keeps him crawling. Still, he cannot escape the battle. It follows him.
The blasts continue to grow, more and more violent. Some areas of the trench are now more reflective of a pit. Others have been buried by hurricanes of dirt. A large yellow bolt strikes the earth not a yard from where Komosoni lays, and throws him briefly through the air. He flips, as if he were an over easy egg, back into the trench. A wave of dirt follows closely behind. All at once, Komosoni is as much a part of the terrain as he is a part of the battle. He peers down at his body. He can feel its aches, but not see them. Aside from an arm and a head, he lay a foot deep beneath the earth.
Komosoni can see around him better than he could from the trench. Tanks, trolls, and trenches, blue coats, gray coats, and swords. His eyes feel as if they were a camera, left to take in too much exposure. Everything blurs in each frame. Even his own allies, some of which lay very close to him, can not be made out. And then there is this figure, wide up top, wearing a gray coat, approaching. Komosoni’ s heart beats so violently his chest rustles the top layer of ash covering him.
The blue coated warrior blinks his eyes rapidly, hoping that his vision will return. The sad voice of a wizard tech flashes in his mind, “Have you tried restarting it?” Komosoni is both enraged and confused by his anger. He is angry because he will not see the face of his killer. He is confused because he does not understand why he feels he must. Still there is nothing he can do. The gray coat is merely a few yards away.
“Agathos soma.” The words ripple through the air, down to Komosoni. The gray tower becomes a man as the blue coated soldiers vision returns.
“Raphi?” Komosoni, asks, though he can see clearly now.
“Hello, brother,” He responds. The corner of his lips rises.
“Are you looking to be my prisoner of war?” Komosoni asks.
“Seriously?” Raphi chuckles. “Don’t make me hex you.” He grabs his brother's arm, and attempts to pull him out of the dirt. No good. “Very well.”
Raphi steps back, placing his right foot behind him and squats. His arms raise, and his fingers twist. “Gey udor!” He pushes his hands through the air and to his brother. In a second’s time, the earth holding him shifts into water. Komosoni sits up.
“Wonderful,” Raphi cheers. “Now, please be more c-“ a red blast strikes him and he falls down the dirt mound, his gray coat on fire.
“Komo!” He cries.
“I’m coming,” sighs the blue coated soldier.
Komosoni rises to crouch and begins leaping down the hill. It is a strange thing to him, that he could hate so vehemently what the gray coats stand for, and yet not hate his brother. He knows the same is true for Raphi. Both would die to defend their cause. Both would die to defend each other.
If you enjoy fantasy stories and epics, check out The King of Criminal Island