Sons of War (MxM) (BL)

And so the Moon Weeps (Ch.1) (Edited)

Maybe if I lowered my hand within the sandy dunes, I could find traces of you long-buried in the sand.

Had you trod upon these very grounds those many years ago? Had you felt these very sands beneath your feet as you marched on to face what seemed like the darkest cloud that had hovered over every stretch of our lands?

Or had those grains been carried by the wind just as you had been?

Even as I focused on an image of you in my mind, I found it extremely difficult to imagine the you of the present day. I could feel myself grasping at the you I used to remember, but with each passing day, your face only grows more blurred within my mind's eye, and I feel as if I am staring at a horizon with its vision so blurred by storms that every image of the sun is now distorted upon its broken surface.

When you think of me, far away as you are, is it the same as well?

Am I an image of a broken horizon like you are to me?

Has the passing of time truly tainted both our memories until there is nothing but dust in the wind, painting shadows of mere fragments of what once was?

No.

Not in my mind.

For in my mind, I still held memories dear, memories clear enough to pierce the haziness of time. I could still pick up the broken pieces of this tragic mirror, enough to see the picture of what you... we once were. When perception started to become clear to our child-like minds when we first understood the bonds that tied you and I.

In those shadow-filled halls, the heat of the lit lamp washing over our chilled arms as we bounded between creaking doors and dusty rooms, we evaded those eyes that seemed to watch us all our waking hours. The sun had long passed, and its rays could not shed light upon our tiny figures darting about in the now present darkness. It was in those moments when we ran from responsibility when I came to understand that the bond between us was something I could never forget.

In that silent corner of that ancient room, tucked between shelves that only seemed to gather memories long-forgotten, memories covered in the heavy dustings of the past unbroken, we huddled our tiny bodies and hovered over ancient texts that portrayed heroes of days gone by, tales of warriors that ventured far from these desert lands where you and I had been born into, been raised within, and thought we would die amongst.

There, in that space we had found and turned into our solace, I could remember the warmth of your arms that had been slowly developing into hard muscles from the heavy training you underwent. I could recall the heat of your breath, gracing my cheek that turned ever so red, as you read the words of the text aloud from beside me. I could feel the smile in your voice as you told me of how much you adored those heroes that danced their challenges of war across the frail pages, their strength now the only thing left binding those pages together in an effort to pass down their legacy to even one who would come to read it.

But in that room, that forgotten library where the outside world found no place within, there had been two to receive that gift.

There was me. There was you. There were the two of us.

But it had been you who had understood the gallantry and bravery of those long-dead men, for you were born with the ability of strength, of power, of a force beyond reckoning. Soon enough, as we passed our 10th summer, they had already deemed you worthy of possibly standing in name beside those passed heroes.

Those were the days when you had been happiest, or so I would like to think, for you smiled so earnestly those nights we huddled into that corner of that library. Those were the days where you read those words so earnestly that I couldn't help but stare up at you in wonder, at those amber eyes that lit up like a furnace in the light of the lamp.