Years passed this way. Miro was slowly getting better. Their life condition was improving a lot. Jäwell was proud of himself. The King was ordering weapons for his army directly and Jäwell was happy to serve him this way.
Jäwell took the habit of regularly visiting the tomb of their mother to place flowers. He made a metal flower to make it unique and eternal.
Each time, Jäwell came back from the village he passed in front of a bookshop. A nice-looking young woman welcomed him with a very cute smile each time and he answered, "Hey pretty lady."
He often had a little chat with her. They were two beautiful young people chatting nicely but each time Jäwell was worried about his brother waiting alone. He never stayed long with her.
As Miroïr was better, Jäwell decided to invite him to come with him to their mother's tomb. Miroïr never left the room, he was terrified to go outside but he accepted. He walked outside for the first time in years. He breathed the fresh air that almost burned his lungs
They walked slowly back and forth. Miroïr was glad to see the tomb of their mother, he felt very relieved to see it so well maintained.
As they came back, they stopped by the bookshop. Jäwell could finally take the time to speak with the lady, Miroïr was reading books around during this time. Both were doing their preferred activity.
Miroïr seemed particularly enthusiastic about one book, it seemed like the book was made for him. It attracted him in a way he could not describe.
Jäwell bought it for him without asking anything about it, he didn't care about books anyway.
They came back home. In the following days, Miroïr started to stand up more and more. He was reading passionately. When he finished his book, Jäwell invited him to go to the bookshop after work. Miroïr accepted with joy.
This way, they started to go there twice a week. Miroïr was completely different. In half a year regained weight, walked regularly, and sometimes he was even going to the tomb of their mother by himself, alone. Jäwell was very happy, he couldn't dream of a better life. He even started to see the young lady out of the bookshop in their free time, walking and flirting in the public gardens like all the other young people in the city.
She was getting more and more worried though, rolling her hair in her fingers.
"Do you know what your brother is reading Jäwell?"
Jäwell took out the hair from her hands.
"No, I don't read."
She was searching for her words, Jäwell was impatient, and he started to get slightly angry.
"He reads obscure art... These books are about necromancy and all such things. I never dared to read one full and your brother read one per week at least. Jäwell, I am worried about what he could do with this."
Jäwell had a strange expression. He stood up and left her.
"If he likes it, he reads it."
Jäwell came back home. Miroïr was there with a smile, this time he even prepared the dinner. Jäwell sat on the chair at the table.
"So what about "necromonie"?"
Miroïr watched him with surprise, he didn't understand what Jäwell said. He pointed at a book with his finger. Miroïr laughed amused and very excited.
"Ah! Necromancy! Necromancy is the art of manipulating death, Jäwell. I don't do that."
Jäwell had a severe expression, he didn't appreciate that people used words he didn't understand.
"So what do you do? Tell me all now."
Miroïr was overjoyed to be able to speak about his books with his brother. He enjoyed his abilities and his life but he never thought about explaining them to Jäwell. He never wanted to bother him with this subject.
He sat at the table to join him. His white hair was all around his pale face and his red eyes were shiny. Jäwell took his hands.
"I will always be there for you no matter what. Show me, Miro."
The young man raised his head with a lot of joy. He nodded, and then he freed his hands.
"I will show you, brother."
His red eyes became darker and darker. Somehow, a mouse that entered previously was raised in the air. Dark energy rose from it.
Miroïr seemed to control it, the mouse was placed on the table in front of them. In a few seconds, the mouse died, leaving a dry body.
Jäwell made a terrible face. He was shocked and confused. His jaw dropped, and his eyes opened wide. He listened to Miroïr explaining himself with a timid voice.
"I can take for myself the vital energy of the creatures around me. I can control it now and it cures me. I am sorry brother... I know that I am a m..."
Jäwell stood up and took him in his arms.
"Don't say it, It's ok for me. It is our little secret. I will be happy if you are happy."
Miroïr was nicely surprised by his reaction. He didn't expect his warrior brother to understand anything of it. Jäwell only believed in the brutal force, he never valued the spirit and still, he was encouraging his brother to practice a kind of magic that he never saw before and that could be extremely dangerous. The first of its kind.
Nothing could break their bond. They had true faith in each other and life continued.