The memory was so sharp in Andreas’ mind that when it finally let go he was panting, tears he didn’t know he had rolling down his cheeks. It was a constant nightmare, one that never wanted to let him go but he always managed to get out of before all the details of that day came back to him. But his defenses were worn down. His fight broken that the most painful of his losses could no longer be buried in the deepest recesses of his mind where he had kept it for so long.

Andreas had just turned seventeen when Dylan was killed, a couple of short months after he had to watch his friend die, the catalyst to a chain reaction of deaths close to Andreas. Sometimes he wondered why the world couldn’t just take him instead. Why keep killing everyone around him and keep him alive? It was the worst kind of curse, one he wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve. He was determined to give the universe a reason though.

But all of that dissipated as quickly as it came as the image of his brother’s lifeless face drifted back in his mind’s eye. Those dark blue eyes, only on shade light than his older brother, blank as they stared up at the sky. To this day, Andreas admired the fact that they never once looked frightened. Even his five year old brother was stronger than him.

He remembered the first time Dylan said the word “brother”. It was weeks before his first birthday and he was wobbling over to Andreas, his eyes and smile wide. “Brota, brota!” he exclaimed as he reached Andreas and his balance wavered. Andreas caught him before he fell and the two brothers shared a hug. It was one of Andreas’ favorite memories, bit one that he could never recall without tears threatening to fall from his eyes. His hand went up to his eyes now wet with tears he couldn’t hold back no matter how hard he tried.

When Dylan was two years old, he could run and speak in full sentences, but never could pronounce Andreas. Instead, Dylan always called him Scotty. Andreas hated being referred to by his middle name, and Dylan was the only one allowed that special privilege. “Scotty! Scotty! Play tag, play tag?” the youngster requested on several occasions. Andreas would relent to his pleas and usually gave into anything that his baby brother asked him. Emilia just laughed when she caught them running down the halls.

This memory, like the others, stung with a force Andreas was unused to. The emotional turmoil felt like a physical onslaught, leaving him gasping for breath. He wondered why he was being bombarded by these memories now when he was able to keep them hidden for so long, when he could keep his feelings locked up for so long. Unless –

“Scotty!” a small, high-pitched voice of a toddler said, breaking Andreas into a million tiny little pieces. His eyes found Dylan instantly and he because the image of a man broken beyond repair. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

All at once, every single moment he had spent with Dylan flashed on the inside of his eyes. Every game they had played, every time Andreas threw him in the air to catch him, every single interaction, overwhelming him. But he would get no relief. The images kept attacking him, refusing to let him go, refusing to let him live in the present. He could not think, react, even breathe. He was sitting shocked into a statue, staring at the small figure running toward him.

He was surprised that he could feel him at all when Dylan jumped into his arms. The cove was cruel, sadistic but giving him his brother with the knowledge he would be taken away too soon again. Too soon. Andreas’ arms embraced Dylan automatically and then every dam, every wall, every piece of armor in his possession obliterated into nothingness. Andreas’ soul was laid bare for any and all to see and he began crying. Crying until a point where he didn’t think he’d ever stop, all the while holding onto the shadow of his brother. Dylan must’ve known what was going on, because not once did he try to pull away or complain. He just patted Andreas’ back softly, trying to comfort his older brother. This action on broke Andres further. It was not supposed to be like this. Dylan had gotten so wise, and yet he was still only five years old, stuck that was for all eternity while the world kept spinning, even though time felt suspended to Andreas. He didn’t want to have it start again.

“Dylan,” Andreas sobbed, his voice lacking all of its strength, the sound of glass shattering as it hit the floor.

“It’s okay, Scotty, don’t cry. Don’t be sad,” the boy said, meaning to comfort Andreas, but it only made him fall deeper and deeper into the bottomless pit of heartache. For the first time since Dylan’s death, Andreas allowed himself to grieve, truly feel the emptiness Dylan’s death left in his life. It was a hole he would never be able to heal – a wound that would never stop bleeding, a guilt he could never ease.

“I should’ve saved you – should’ve done more. I should’ve been there for you, been your big brother!  I should’ve protected you; it should’ve been me to die instead. You shouldn’t have died before me! It wasn’t your time, it was too soon…. I needed you …. Dylan, forgive me, please forgive me for not being a better brother. For not protecting you like I should have – For turning out the way I did,” Andreas cried out, his words coming out frantic, almost indecipherable.

Dylan pulled back, placed his hands on either of Andreas’ shoulders and looked him squarely in the eyes with more determination than any five year old should possess. “Please don’t cry…. If you cry, I’m going to start crying…” he said, his voice starting to shake.

Andreas cupped Dylan’s face between his hands. “I will try, Dylan, that it all I can promise.”

The child inclined his head to the side. “Being dead isn’t so bad.... Mom and dad are with me…. We have picnics every day and I get to say hi to Casian… and I can do whatever I want!” he said with a smile. “But I miss you…”

Andreas pulled his brother into another hug. “I miss you more that you can ever begin to understand. I wish I could join you….”

Dylan pulled back suddenly. “You can’t! You have to stay… they need you… Death makes sorcerers no longer sorcerers… if they die… they lose everything that makes them special… magic will be wiped out… the balance will be tipped… you have to help them…” Dylan blurted out all at once the way five year olds would when told to relay information. “I miss you Scotty… but you have to stay. We can’t be selfish…” he said and his eyes dropped.

Andreas hugged Dylan into him again. “So I am to stay here alone, everyone I love on the other side?”

Dylan pouted. “You won’t join us when you die… you go somewhere else… somewhere we can’t see you ever again…. Angels want you… destiny…” Dylan said again, his words not making sense as emotion started taking over.

“Hey, it’s okay, I won’t die. I promise,” Andreas said, wiping away his brother’s tears. And just like that Dylan stopped crying.

“I’m supposed to test you….” he said, hiding his face almost shyly.

Andreas smiled, his throat constricting. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice tight, thick with sorrow. “And what will your test be?”

The toddler rubbed his chin, deep in thought. “I don’t know,” he mumbled. “Something that proves you are pure of heart.”

Andreas closed his eyes sadly, trying to blink away the tears. “My heart is too tattered and broken to ever be pure again… like a paper rolled into a ball, wrinkled and trampled on, impossible to ever make perfect again.”

“No heart is beyond hope…” Dylan said softly. Andreas was once again baffled at how wise his younger brother was. The little guy radiated with a strength Andreas knew he would never have. Dylan would have turned into one of the best people the world had ever seen, but he was taken too soon. Taken far too soon. And now he would never grow up. He would never become a young man. He would forever be stuck as a five year old, one of the worst curses that could be placed on someone.

Andreas stroked Dylan’s cheek. “Mine is… I’ve done terrible things, Dylan… things that wouldn’t make you proud to call me your big brother. Things that make me unworthy of being your brother.”

“But I love you, Scotty…. You’re my brother….” he said, looking up at Andreas with confused eyes.

Andreas cupped his brother’s face between his hands again and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. “I love you too, Dylan. I’m sorry for everything… sorry I became this monster and in the process tainted your memory with my rage. You deserve better.”

Dylan gave him a small smile and hoisted himself up so he could kiss Andreas on the forehead as well. Andreas’ breath hitched. “You passed,” Dylan said after pulling back and then his figure slowly started to dissipate without another word.

Andreas frantically tried to hold on to Dylan, but the image became more translucent by the second. Dylan was waving goodbye to him, but Andreas wasn’t ready to let him go yet. “DYLAN!” Andreas yelled, fresh tears spilling from his eyes. He was losing him again. Everything was happening all over again. And like the first time, he wasn’t allowed to say goodbye. He never got to chance to say goodbye.

Dylan was gone once again.

“Good bye baby brother….” Andreas whispered, his voice chopped into grains of sand but daggers that cut into the deepest part of his soul.