"I will protect you, everything will be fine," He kept repeating, mostly to himself.
A creature that citizens never imagined in their worst nightmares flew into the sky and carried a man in his arms. His wings flapped powerfully, producing a thunderous sound. People saw them in the sun, coming slowly in the direction of the castle. Most of the humans present at this moment were horrified to see that this beast with wings was no one else than their king and they hid in their house out of fear.
As Zarkhaïm reached the floor, a terrible smell of burned flesh invaded the streets. Miroïr was unconscious and everybody who had seen him would have agreed that it was better this way. He could barely be recognized. His long white hair turned red from his blood and his naked body was covered with wounds and bruises.
Jäwell heard the noise outside and a servant ran to him.
"The king came back! He has Miroïr!"
Jäwell rushed outside with excitement, but he suddenly froze as he saw his brother in such a state. He didn't understand the situation.
"Where were you!?" He almost yelled at Zarkhaïm angrily.
The king passed next to him without even answering Jäwell to join his quarters in silence. His wings disappeared slowly as he walked. Jäwell couldn't believe his eyes, and he didn't dare to follow him at the moment. Zarkhaïm pushed the door of his room with his foot and placed Miroïr on his bed, he talked to him in a low voice. Hearing him, Miroïr took his hand tenderly, he seemed to smile with the little skin he had left on his lips.
Zarkhaïm had a trembling voice. His eyes were full of tears.
"I am sorry. All of this is my fault. I should never have let you go, I should have stopped you."
Miroïr seemed to laugh, he coughed.
"And leave my brother with his new power alone? I needed to leave, this was my decision."
Zarkhaïm couldn't control himself, his face turned into a beast face.
"Let me heal you, I will heal you, it will work."
Miroïr stopped him, he could only whisper in a frail voice.
"Thank you for letting me love you."
Miroïr closed his eyes with a smile but Zarkhaïm was out of reason when he felt Miroïr's pulse stopping. The king screamed with all the rage he had and everybody in the city could hear it. Some citizens were already packing their stuff to move away as fast as possible. Jäwell ran to the bedroom, he stopped at the door, placing his hand on the handle but he couldn't push it. He was terrified to find his brother dead on the other side. Deep inside, he knew it was too late already. He had just lost the most precious thing to him.
If Zarkhaïm had told Jäwell only one rule to never break, it was this one:
"Never create more than one creature with the shadows in our blood."
Zarkhaïm had created Jäwell, he had no right to save Miroïr, and they both knew it.
However, the pain was too heavy to bear and Zarkhaïm broke the rule, he pierced his arm with his fangs many times frantically while tears were rolling down his cheeks.
"I prohibit you from dying! Wake up now!"
Blood entered Miroïr's mouth but nothing happened. Zarkhaïm was in despair. He fell to his knees beside the bloody bed. Jäwell had heard everything behind the door and leaned down in a daze. He didn't get a chance to say goodbye, to say he was sorry for his mistake, and to tell his brother that he loved him more than anything.
Jäwell wept, burying himself in his hands. Under his fingers, he felt that his face had changed to take on Zarkhaïm's bestial features. His hands started to tremble, incapable of entering the room and seeing his brother dead.
But then, suddenly, he heard a cough and Zarkhaïm cried.
"Yes! Yes! Like this! Wake up!"
Jäwell pushed the door quickly, he couldn't stay outside anymore. He saw his brother levitating on the bed, his eyes were still closed but soon his wounds were healed. Silver claws appeared on his hands, and fangs formed in his mouth. He slowly opened his eyes and their crimson shade never was so shiny and so intense.
When Jäwell had been created, he covered the battlefield in shadows and many people died because of it, as he thought about his brother being in the same state a little thrill ran through his body, but Miroïr regained consciousness, and the shadows gently lifted him onto the bed. All around him was only softness. Like a whirlwind of emotions, far from the rage and fury that Jäwell knew. He saw before him the love that Zarkhaïm had for Miroïr.
Miroïr sat up, touched his face, and understood that he no longer had any scars. He looked at Zarkhaïm with wide eyes.
"What have you done?"
Zarkhaïm took him in his arms strongly. His loving eyes meant everything, "Just... Just stay with me now."
Jäwell realized how much Zarkhaïm should have let him be dead. He lowered his head and started to leave to let them together as it was supposed to be. Without him to disturb them, he felt like a burden in his brother's life and this reality hurt him as once he was his reason to live. Jäwell felt replaced but, at this moment, Miroïr saw his brother alone going away. He stood up and ran to him calling him, when Jäwell stopped, his brother threw himself in his arms.
"I love you so much, I thought I would never see you again," Miroïr whimpered, holding Jäwell strongly.
Jäwell cried, tightening his arms on his brother.
"I am sorry, I am so sorry I didn't listen to you."
Zarkhaïm was still angry at Jäwell, but seeing them like this in this room appeased him.
Miroïr was still weak and needed to rest, Jäwell helped him while Zarkhaïm came close to the two brothers to give his hand to Miroïr in support. The mage took Zarkhaïm's hand without hesitation and held it tight to return slowly to the bed before he fainted.
Zarkhaïm's heart was lighter, repeating one more time to his beloved, "I will protect you, everything will be fine."