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notesfromthevania · 5 years

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Brother and Sister

This story shall the good man teach his son; And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remember'd; We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother...

-Henry V by William Shakespeare, Act IV, Scene iii.

RY 717

Mr. and Mrs. Umpleby move to a new house in Fessenburg with their three daughters, aged 10, 7, and 5, and their son, aged 2. Their new next-door-neighbors, Dr. and Mrs. Elenvir, offhandedly remark that they have a boy just the same age as little Fenwick Umpleby.

RY 719

It’s the Umplebys’ turn to babysit, so the two Elenvir boys are in the backyard. The serious Lucius keeps to himself and reads a book, but Marius, loud and scrappy, runs around the yard with Fenwick and plays at being an adventurer. It takes everything Mr. Umpleby has to convince the kids to come in for supper.

RY 723

Now eight years old, Fenwick and Marius are horrified to learn that they are in different classes in school for the very first time. “Well, this won’t do,” Fenwick says simply, and the two boys get to work after school developing a secret code so they can secretly pass notes to each other as they move through the corridors.

RY 727

Some older boys overhear Marius admitting to Fenwick that he fancies guys and jump him in the schoolyard for it. Fenwick does not leave his side. To everyone’s surprise, Marius and Fenwick put up enough of a fight to make the attackers give up and run off. That night, Dr. Elenvir mutters in his native Elvish as he magically patches up the kids’ wounds: “I shall give that school a piece of my damned mind for this...”

Marius grins, mouth still full of blood, and replies in Common: “Ada, don’t worry about it. You should see the other blokes.”

RY 732

War has begun, but Fenwick and Marius are still underage and stuck in school for one more year. Both itch for graduation day and the chance to enlist in the burgeoning rebel army. Opportunity, as it happens, is just waiting to knock. The Arcane Aptitude Exam is administered to students in their final year of public school, assessing their ability to go on to formal wizard training if they so choose.

Marius holds the envelope containing his exam results in shaking hands as the final bell rings and he runs out into the hall to find Fenwick. Fenwick’s envelope is already torn open and he’s positively beaming. “Top marks, Marius! I can’t believe it.” His eyes flick downward. “Why haven’t you opened yours yet?”

“Nerves.” Marius manages a small laugh. “Here goes nothing.” He tears the envelope open and his eyes widen as he reads. “Top marks!” Marius crows, pulling Fenwick in for a tight hug. “Oh gods, we did it.”

RY 733

After saying goodbye to their families and before reporting for duty, Fenwick and Marius sit for their daguerreotype while wearing the crisp, dark blue uniform of the 3rd Fessenburg Battlemages. Looking at the resulting image, Fenwick says something about wanting to lose a bit of weight. An entirely different form of discontent nags at Marius’s mind.

RY 736

Sitting in camp one night, Fenwick is surprised to hear what his best friend says, and yet it makes complete sense. “I-I’m a woman, Fen. I’m a woman and I’d like to be called Miriam.” She watches his face nervously--Fenwick has rarely seen her nervous, as she has always been the bolder of the two.

He greets the news with a smile and a hug. “Well, Miriam, I’ve always loved you as a brother, but I’m very happy to have yet another sister.” The next morning, Miriam writes to her family and picks up the requisite paperwork to change her name and get a potion prescription from the regiment’s clerics.

RY 740

The 3rd Fessenburg Battlemages go over the top of their trench outside the ruins of Merton, with other battlemage units covering their advance by lobbing spells in long arcs over their heads. From the Royal Army’s trench, the line of soldiers running across no-man’s-land is a horrifying sight in itself, and then the cry goes up along the enemy line, “GAS! GAS! THE BATTLEMAGES HAVE MASKS. PREPARE FOR GAS.”

Poison Spray is a spell that requires close range, so the 3rd Fessenburg Battlemages had not taken up this attack lightly. Fenwick, Miriam, and their comrades brave a cloud of arrows and nearly climb right into the Royal Army trench in order to make the gas attack.

And then Fenwick looks around and is horrified to no longer see Miriam. “Miriam!?”

“Fenwick!” comes the reply from below. Miriam, like so many of the other soldiers, had slipped on the mud and fallen into the trench.

Fenwick jumps down to help her, just in time to see a massive man in the green Royal uniform, perhaps half-orcish, definitely badly injured already, bearing down upon them both with a large battleaxe in his hands. Though he is only a small, poorly-armored wizard, Fenwick jumps in front of Miriam, taking the blow himself. His world spins as his right arm and his side erupt in unimaginable pain. Everything goes black.

Miriam finishes the half-orc with a flurry of Magic Missiles to his heart and, with the help of several comrades, pulls the unconscious, bloody Fenwick out of the trench. As the battlemages make their scrambling retreat across the scarred plain, carrying Fenwick with them, one of Miriam’s fellow soldiers shouts above the noise, “Stupid question, but did we leave his arm back there?”

“Oh fuck,” is Miriam’s only reply.

RY 742

Fenwick adapts to life with one arm and fights to the end of the war. As the 3rd Fessenburg Battlemages make the long march home after the Armistice, he completes the sketches for the prosthetic arm of his dreams. Miriam and a few of the others seem grim, though, when everyone else is celebrating. She complains about the nobles, and though Fenwick agrees with her, he is not nearly as upset about the Republic’s politics as she is.

One morning, he wakes up with a note in his hand.

Fenwick – I hope you can forgive me. I heard a rumor I could not help but follow. Something had to be done. Remember, action is the life of all, and if you do not act, you do nothing. Remember that The Crow Flies At Midnight. Remember that you’re like a brother to me and I love you. I was simply far too restless to stay here like this. Gods willing, we shall meet again in better days. Love, Miriam

And for the first time in a quarter century, he is alone.

#miriam elenvir #fenwick umpleby #thevanian revolution

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