Blood of my Brother

The Truth Will Make You Free

Trigger warnings: panic attacks, injuries, self-hatred, blood, imprisonment

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As the morning sun filtered through the clouds and fog, Varian stumbled wearily to the edge of town. He had walked through the night, tripping and stumbling in the darkness, jostling his arm and ribs. One of his ankles was aching from a fall. Ruddiger had hopped off his shoulders to walk beside him.

He must have looked a sight. He brushed dirt off his shirt and combed his finger through his hair. If he was going to move on, the last thing he needed was someone deciding to pity him and send him to an orphanage. He needed to look somewhat respectable. Not that the scars crossing his face allowed for that, but hey, he was trying.

He entered the town just as people were starting to open up their shops. A few sent wary glances his way. He clenched the straps of the backpack in his hands tightly to stop them from shaking and kept walking, holding his head high.

The alchemy shop loomed on his right. Seeing the sign hanging above the door sent his heart plummeting into his stomach. No, he was ready. He had mentally prepared himself for this during his walk. He pushed the door open, the bell chiming softly, and stepped inside.

Glassware lined the shelves. Jars of powders and rocks and chemicals sat on every available surface. In one corner, a table held sets of gloves, aprons, and goggles. Books on every possible topic pertaining to alchemy were stacked nearly taller than him.

Half a year ago, the sight would have sent Varian into a fit of ecstasy. He would have gladly lost himself in here for hours. Now, though, it took every ounce of his willpower to keep from bolting out the door. He kept his eyes on the floor and walked over to the proprietor.

"Excuse me, sir?" he began politely. The proprietor turned to him. Varian slipped off the backpack and set it in the only empty space on a nearby table. He opened it to show the contents. "A friend of mine bought all this here the other day."

The man nodded. "Tall fella, braids, had a raccoon with him?" He gave Ruddiger a suspicious look.

"Yes sir. He got this for me, but I can't use it. I was wondering if you'd be kind enough to buy it back."

The man nodded. "I don't see why not."

"Thank you."

The bell on the door chimed again. "Can I help you?" the proprietor called.

"I don't think so," came the response. "He can, however."

Varian turned to see who was there. His eye caught sight of a gleaming gold uniform. He gasped in horror and stepped back, his spine now pressed painfully against the table behind him. He needed to run, to escape, to find a back door and go anywhere but here, but he stood frozen to the spot.

"Figured as much," the soldier spoke cheerily, as if this were just a casual conversation between friends. Beside Varian, Ruddiger hissed angrily. The man gave him a sidelong glance, then ignored him. "I kept an eye on this place. Figured if an escaped alchemist would come anywhere, he'd come here."

Run! Do something! Don't just stand here! But he couldn't move. He was shaking, terrified, but he couldn't move. The door opened, and a second soldier entered.

The first one reached out and grabbed Varian's arm. That broke him out of his frozen state. He drove a kick at the man's ankle. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make him loosen his grip on the boy. Varian wrenched his arm away and ran. He bolted for the back of the shop. As he ran, his brain helpfully reminded him that he was surrounded on all sides by alchemy. A few seconds was all he would need to cause a big enough distraction to escape.