Ander - Part 3: Subchapter 22
22
Hezzi couldn't have heard right. There was no way in Hell. He... He was just so caught up in Ander's appearance, with the blood everywhere... He couldn't have... Garten couldn't have just told him to gouge out Ander's eye.
Could he?
He wanted to ask Garten to repeat that, but he couldn't. All he could do was stare at his older brother. Of course, he had seen what they did to him from the tower, but up close like this...
Dorin's bite-mark, travelling up and over his shoulder in a giant, curved oval. His broken nose. The gash in his forehead. It was all so... gruesome.
You did this, he thought. And not just indirectly, either. You were the first one to strike him before the trial even began. You started all this. It's all your fault...
"Take your time, boy..." Garten said and ran his tongue over the gap in his teeth. It always creeped Hezzi out so badly whenever he did that, because Banno used to lick his teeth, too, usually when they were covered in blood.
Banno...
Was Ander really telling the truth about him? Did he really murder Vallah? Did he really chase down Ander and Kiana just to experience that taste for a second time? Did Banno really say that he would like to... to taste... his death one day?
No. _No!_It can't be. Banno was a lot of things, sure. He was scary, and vicious, and downright mean sometimes, but Banno loved him! He didn't show it very often, but that's just the way he is.
(Was.)
All the times they went hunting together. All the times Hezzi went out with his big brother into the woods and he'd teach him how to track prey and what the different scents meant and how to read the wind and sky. Sometimes he'd get a knock to the head if he messed up, but even that was more like a form of affection rather than punishment. Sometimes he'd get a playful punch to the shoulder and a shout of 'Well done, pup! You finally got it right!' and Hezzi would feel so happy inside he wouldn't be able to keep his tail from wagging like a child.
All those times... They couldn't have been fake. Banno couldn't have been playing the 'role' of big brother all this time. The very notion was inconceivable. To hide such dark feelings your entire life without anyone ever noticing? To go around wanting to kill everyone around you just because you want to? Because of a craving for the blood of something more than mere prey, just to feed some bizarre fetish!? Impossible! Banno would never want to hurt him. Never ever! And yet...
Looking down at Ander as he kneeled before him, his half-congealed blood slowly dripping down his face and flowing over Garten's arm in crimson rivulets, he couldn't help but wonder...
What if Ander was telling the truth? About everything?
"It might have been better to use an arrow to do the deed," Garten said, "but to use the bow he wielded against his own blood? And wielded by his own blood, no less? Why, that's... beautiful. Almost like poetry."
Hezzi looked down at the broken bow in his hands. Even in something as simple as this, he could feel Ander's presence. This wasn't just some normal hunting bow. This bow was different. Instead of a solid piece of carved wood, it was made by sticking many strips together. Hezzi had no idea how Ander managed to keep them from falling apart, but he could see the different shades of brown, the different patterns in the grain, the lines inside the jagged break, each one indicating the start of a new strip, like the rings of a fallen tree.
The only normal thing about this bow was the string connecting the two halves, which was made of sinew.
"Come on, Hezzi," Garten growled, tightening his grip around Ander's throat. "Eye for an eye! Eye for an eye!"
Sensing what was about to happen, the other Wolves joined in the chant, not boisterous and overexcited like before (maybe that would have been better) but soft, a thousand whispers flowing through the air like a breeze, urging him to do the deed, to draw blood from the only brother he had left. Even the crackling flames seemed to be in on it, asking - no, _demanding_that he do what's best for the tribe. It's what Banno would have wanted. So...
So then why couldn't he move his arms?
"What are you waiting for, Hezzi?" Garten snarled.
Hezzi couldn't take this. He knew he couldn't. This was even worse than the time he had to choose whether that Fox lived or died, and that didn't even make any difference in the end. Standing here in the blazing firelight with the entire tribe looking on, their faces turned into hellish masks of light and shadow, slowly swaying with their soft chanting, their lips barely moving...
"Eye for an eye... Eye for an eye... Eye for an eye..."
If this is what it's like to go insane, Hezzi would rather drop dead on the spot.
"Hezzi!" Garten shouted. "Don't you miss Banno!? Don't you want to avenge him!? You take that bow and you stick it in this traitor's eye right now!"
Hezzi raised the bow above his head, the jagged, broken end pointing down, just so that Garten wouldn't shout at him like that anymore. There was a thick splinter of wood pointing directly at Ander's face, as if it wanted to bury itself in the soft, yielding meat of its master's eye, but that was probably just his imagination.
Looking at that splinter, it reminded him of the way he stabbed his own hand with the broken carving Ander had whittled for him. There was something gruesomely fitting about the whole thing, as if he had come full circle. It was just like Garten had said: this was poetry.
"Eye for an eye... Eye for an eye... Eye for an eye..."
But why couldn't he bring himself to do it? The entire tribe wanted him to do this, so it must be the right thing to do, so why couldn't he?
The entire_tribe? Are you sure about that Hezzi? Are you absolutely sure?_
He slowly looked the crowd over, moving from face to face, each one identical in their looks of blissful bloodlust.
Except for those who stood out like blazing torches in absolute darkness.
Sorrin was standing off to the side, his face grim, one hand resting on Mellah's shoulder. She still had the shocked, blank look in her eyes of someone who has learned that her only daughter was dead, even worse now because she's had to endure it for a second time.
Further along, near the fire, stood Danado and his older sister, Lana. While those around them were swaying and chanting, they stood perfectly still, not uttering a single word.
Nilia wasn't doing anything either. She just stood there with her arms crossed, her face as hard and unchanging as stone. But she was always like that, so maybe that wasn't so weird.
He didn't know exactly where Father was right now - probably still inside Mother's doctor tent, stone cold unconscious - but even he didn't want to see Ander get killed, and he was probably closest to understanding what Hezzi has been going through. But... he still ended up sentencing Ander to death. What did that mean? It meant that he, just like Hezzi right now, had to do what was right for the entire tribe, didn't it?
Hezzi looked over his shoulder, and the one Wolf that immediately stood out from the others was Renna. The others were so happy, so eager, they could barely contain their excitement. It looked like some of them would jump right out of their fur at any minute. Renna, however, was the exact opposite of that. She had her hands clasped together under her chin, and she kept locking them together and unlocking them, winding her fingers around each other, unwinding them again. Her eyes were red and teary, and not just from the fire. They were like that up in the tower, too, when she pleaded for Hezzi not to climb down the ladder when Dorin came to fetch him.
She had the exact same look in her eyes now as she did then, that pleading look, begging him not to leave her behind. A single tear spilled down her cheek, and she opened her mouth to form five silent words. Hezzi was never any good at reading lips, but even he couldn't misunderstand what she was telling him.
Please, no... Don't leave me...
He still didn't understand. He was right here. He wasn't going anywhere.
You're wrong, Hezzi. If you strike down your own brother, you will go to a place you'll never be able to come back from. Not ever.
"That's right, boy. Take it all in," Garten said, misunderstanding Hezzi's gaze completely. "This is your moment. Bask in it, because you'll never feel anything quite like this again."
Hezzi turned back to face Ander, his older brother, killer of his eldest brother. There was no denying it. Ander did kill Banno, he admitted it himself. Hezzi saw him do it.
He raised the broken bow a little higher, squeezed it a little tighter. He could feel the other half tapping him on the back, as if urging him to hurry up.
Ander had the strangest look in his eye. Not the fear and dread he would have expected from someone staring up at a sharp spike of wood meant to be driven into his eyeball. Just sadness. Pure and simple. Nothing else.
No, wait. That wasn't completely right. There was something else in there, too... something Hezzi couldn't place. Maybe because he didn't want to place it, because if he did, it would be even harder to distinguish between right and wrong, something that's always been so simple for him up until a week ago.
If the tribe says it's right, it's right. If the tribe says it's wrong, it's wrong. And even more important than the beliefs of the innumerable Wolves that lived within these walls was the belief of Banno. He was never wrong. And even on the rare occasions that he was, he had the power to change the world around him so that he would be right. He would force it that way, and Hezzi knew for a fact that if Banno were still alive and could talk to him right now, he would have no problem convincing him that gouging Ander's eye out would be the _right_thing to do.
So then why did you go against the tribe when you voted for the vixen's freedom? Everyone wanted her dead, none more so than Banno. He wanted to tear her apart the moment he first saw her. If that was the right thing to do, then why did you side with Ander? Why did you want to save her? Was it because you had no choice other than to disappoint one of your brothers, or was it because, for the first time in your life, you had the courage to decide for yourself what needed to be done?
This would be so much easier if he could just grab onto the hatred he had felt the night Banno died! That deep, bitter, burning hatred that screamed inside his head, tearing and slicing until it felt like it would rip his very soul apart. Inside that hatred lay relief. If he could just find that black pool again he would throw himself in without hesitation. He would gladly drown in it! It was the hatred that could move his arms for him. It was the hatred that could absolve him from all thought and responsibility. If he could find it, he'd be able to do what the entire tribe wanted of him -
It's not the entire tribe, Hezzi!
- he'd be able to do the right thing...
Hezzi thought back to that darkest night almost a week ago, when he had stood in the cold, pouring rain, listening to the roar of the river. The Cora's shadow was like a black blanket in the night, turning every bush and tree into a monster not even the most horrible of dreams could have spawned, with reaching claws and empty stomachs. Completely powerless, he had to watch the greatest monster of them all - greatest because of his terrible familiarity - end the life of the Wolf he looked up to the most.
Hezzi imagined all this as clearly as he could, trying to grab hold of that hatred once again, the beautiful hatred that would get rid of all his guilt and turn this impossible situation into something so simple he wouldn't even have to think about it.
He saw Ander and Kiana on the riverbank, and Banno in the water. He saw the arrow in Ander's clenched fist, the fletching sopping wet and plastered uselessly against the shaft, a single drop of rain quivering at the end of its murderous tip.
He knew he couldn't have seen these minute details in the actual moment of his brother's death (it was far too dark for that), but he could see them now, in his mind's eye, as if they were illuminated, not by the occasional purple flickers of the storm clouds, but by the raging fire burning next to him right now, in real life, its sound almost identical to the raging river of the world in his darkest memory.
He saw the arrow swing down, saw it puncture Banno's eye in a crimson explosion, saw him disappear beneath the crashing torrents, one arm reaching blindly from the brown, muddy water...
Ander did that, and now he would do the same to Ander. He had to. He had no choice.
Hezzi closed his eyes. He couldn't bear to look into his brother's eyes any longer: so sad, but resolute. It would have been better if Ander would just yell something, scream at him not to do this, or maybe just reasonably argue why he shouldn't, like he always did. But no, he just kneeled there on the ground with Garten's arm locked around his neck, staring up at his little brother with those sad eyes... and something else, something Hezzi didn't want to recognize.
Hezzi tightened his fingers around Ander's bow so hard he couldn't keep his clenched fists from shaking, and he squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, until the throbbing reddish black haze of the fire couldn't shine through his closed lids anymore, and was replaced by a black more pure: the black of the hatred he's been searching for.
This was for the good of the tribe, the good of everyone...
Please, no...
This was for Banno.
Don't leave me...
"Eye for an eye... Eye for an eye... Eye for an eye..."
Yes... an eye for an eye. This is justice. This is what must be done. He had no choice in the matter. Why was he even trying to convince himself otherwise? He simply had to do it. He _had_to do it. Do it. Just do it.
DO IT!!
Hezzi took a short, gasping breath that could easily have been mistaken for a sob, raised the broken bow as high as it would go, and -
Something warm landed gently on top of his head and slowly moved left and right, ruffling his hair. It was so out of place in this circle of death, yet so frighteningly familiar, it felt to Hezzi like his entire world was being split apart at the seams.
He opened his eyes, knowing full well what he would see, but the force of it was still strong enough to send him reeling, not physically, but on the inside, where it counts.
Ander had reached up and placed his hand on top of Hezzi's head, just like in the old days, before everything went to Hell. His eyes were still sad, but there was a faint trace of a smile lingering at the corners of his bloody mouth.
"I'm sorry I had to put you through all this, Hezzi," he said, lightly moving his fingers through his hair. His voice was a bit gurgly because of the broken nose, but each word came through with absolute clarity, because these were the first real words Hezzi has heard from his brother, Ander, and not the murderer of Banno. Hezzi didn't even realize he was thinking of them as two separate Wolves until this very moment. "I don't expect you to forgive me, but I have to tell you, while I still can," Ander struggled on, blood steadily trickling from his nostrils. "Ever since you were born, it was my job to look out for you. I've tried my very best, and I'm so sorry I couldn't be there for you when you needed me most..."
Hezzi suddenly realized what it was he's been trying so hard to avoid all this time. He understood perfectly now. The look in Ander's eyes he couldn't quite place because his mind refused to acknowledge that a monster was capable of expressing such a thing. They didn't belong together, and that meant one of those perceptions had to be wrong.
"I'm your big brother, Hezzi, and no matter what happens, whatever you choose to do..."
How could a monster be looking at him with such love?
"... you'll always be my crazy little brother, and I'll always love you."
A vault of emotions exploded inside of him, locked away to fester for so long. "You're sorry!?" Hezzi shouted. He promised himself he would never cry again, but he was powerless to stop it. The tears spilled from his eyes, normally the greatest shame, but right now Hezzi didn't give a damn. "You're sorry!? You're sorry!?"
Hezzi knocked Ander's arm away and raised the broken bow high above his head.
"You'resorry!?" he shouted one final time and brought the jagged, splintery piece of wood down with all the force he could muster.
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