Brotherly

They say the bond between two brothers is stronger and more permanent than Equestria itself. A brother is your best friend, your secret keeper, your inspiration, your storybook hero. You go to him when you have harrowing secrets plaguing your mind. I’ve been told that I’m lucky; because on the day Sapphire and I were born, I was extremely close to not having a brother. Hehe, what a mighty contradiction that would have been.

Not only am I a brother, but I am also a twin—the first of two fraternal colts to enter the world of Equestria on a serene Spring morning. We were born in Canterlot, just after the return of Princess Luna. My parents named me Sodalite, a name neither of them particularly liked. I think the reasoning behind this was because they had a petulant, rancorous aunt from whom they inherited a substantial amount of money, so I inherited her name in a way of thanks. In regards to the manner of my birth, I was quick about it: A healthy, green-eyed colt who, apparently, smiled upon entering this world and was delivered naturally with minimal labour pains—as far as my mother was concerned. It was the only time I ever came first.

Sapphire, my brother, wasn’t quite so ambitious. He delayed, and nurses had to intervene. He had gotten himself all twisted and turned about, and he took his first breath with the help of magic and a breathing machine, which had small tubes connecting to his nose. He was too sickly, too small, and too frail for this world to hold—and nurses told my mother he wouldn’t make it through the night. However, despite all the hopelessness, he managed to pull through, for Sapphire was never one to disappoint, even when was a newborn; and I blessed him for that.

The arduous and exhausting delivery had given Sapphire some minor disabilities. He was smaller and skinnier than me, more enfeebled. Special care was needed around him, and my parents generally devoted their time to making sure he stayed in one piece.

After that, our life took shape.

We lived in an old château made of white bricks in Canterlot, and there was a garden where workers would plant all types of flowers and produce. Father was an entomologist, oddly enough; he’d use the garden to attract all sorts of bugs, and he would have all sorts of books about them, and the pictures were even more frightening; and, in rare occasions, when he wasn’t working, he would spend his time with Sapphire; sometimes I really wondered if my father ever noticed me.

Not that I didn’t appreciate my parent’s disregard, mind you. I welcomed it.

I think the reason for this was because Sapphire was as fragile as a butterfly’s wing. He needed constant polishing. The solitude was nice as it meant I could read, write, and practice my magic without any interruptions; I would read old poems and write my own and try and create my own spells. Having this solitary confinement also meant I could come and go as I pleased. Solitary confinement? That’s what it was, really. I spent most of my time in my room when I was at home. Sometimes, on special occasions when we had guests and other family members over, Father and Mother would tell me to stay in my room and not come out until morning; but that rule never applied to Sapphire. He’d get all the attention, leaving me behind, like any good brother should do. Usually I’d sneak out my window and go places, alone, anyway.

When I first began doing this at the age of five, I wasn’t technically allowed to roam the Canterlot streets on my own, but I was quiet enough about shutting the front door—thanks to a muffling spell I created; and most times I could leave my home and return without Mother or Father noticing my absence.

And with the passing of time and my parents’ constant vigilance, Sapphire got bigger and stronger; and although we were twins and looked similar in many respects—long mane, medium blue coats, green eyes—genetics seemed to be more partial to Sapphire. His hair was white like the moon and soft to the touch—the way you would imagine the mane of a fairy-tale princess, whereas my hair was stringy and sat limp on my head and bore the colour of straw and was rough to the touch.

My eyes, incidentally, were rheumy and dull in comparison to Sapphire’s, which had the intensity of a verdant valley. Even his coat contrasted mine: Fair and glowing to my pale blue coat, which was occasionally blotchy. If we had been born identical, I fear I would still be dwarfed by his beauty.

And with the development of his body came the blooming of his intellect.

Mother went over the moon every time Sapphire brought home a class project or grade report, littered with extraordinary letter grades and auspicious comments for his terrific work. To put it simply, his teachers admired him. My grades weren’t quite so impressive, but I don’t think Mother knew that; we were both fine with her not looking at them.

Sapphire always reviewed this praise and affection with paramount humility. On the contrary, he’s quite pleasant to be around. Sapphire and I had always gotten on well despite his blatant superiority in everything we did. One might think I would be envious of him for it, that I would loathe him for it, but they didn’t understand or know my brother. Most had a nebulous recollection of what and how he really was.

There was delicacy and grace on all that he did, no matter how simple it might seem to the outside world, or by other ponies. One could sit and watch him for hours, entranced by how carefully he threads with a needle, how tenderly he holds the cloth—as if he were making a nightgown for some far away emperor’s wife out of precious Canterlot silk. Sapphire was a pony, a creature high above all else—a gift from heaven, if was such a thing. You couldn’t loathe him. Nobody could. But he did have his moments where the latter simply wasn’t true.

One day, Sapphire and I were out on the patio, sitting at a table and eating lunch together. We were having a garden salad, and neither of us said anything because there was nothing for us to say to each other. But after we had eaten, we boomed a conversation.

“Hey, Sodalite,” Sapphire said. “Can I ask you something?” He was getting up to lie on the grassy courtyard.

“Anything,” I said. It was rare for my brother to ask me something, or even talk to me for that matter. It was one thing he was execrable at: Talking to ponies, even family. He hated talking to me, or so I thought. I joined him on the courtyard, and we both lay sprawled, like starfish on a beach, on the green grass.

“Do you hate me?” he asked.

“No, I don’t. How could I? You’re my brother and I love you. Why would you even ask that?”

“Don’t play stupid with me. I know how you feel about me. Why don’t you just say it?”

“Sapphire, I…I don’t hate you. You’re my everything. You’re my best friend, even though we hardly do anything together…” A pause. “I look up to you.” Another pause. “I love you, brother. And nothing will change that, I promise. We may have our differences, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

Sapphire had a faux expression of belief. “You really mean that?”

“Of course. I would never lie to you.” I gave him a hug out of love, but he pushed me away.

“I don’t believe anything you just said. I’m so sick of everyone looking up to me as if I’m some great achiever and loving me for it. It’s so stupid. I’m just a regular pony. That’s it. And if I’m so good at everything I do, why don’t I have any friends? I’m good at everything, right? So why can’t I make friends? Why am I socially inept? Why? Tell me!” His breathing was erratic and wheezy.

I froze in place. Sapphire had never had an outburst like this, for he was the calm and collected one. But seeing him like this, I saw the underlying truth. “Because you’re abrasive, and you make ponies feel inferior with all that you know. It’s not my fault others don’t like you. You’re intimidating and—”

“Is that why you make others believe I’m so great? So you can feel good about your crummy self, Sodalite, by lying to them?” he asked. “And then it rubs off as me being this great pony that everyone is afraid of talking to because they think I’ll immediately turn them down because I’m so much better than them? The only reason I’m like this is because of you!”

It was true, however. If there was one thing for me to say against my immaculate sibling, it’s that I had never once heard him boast, although his eyes deceived him. When I looked at him, staring at and into those verdant eyes, I got a glimpse of his true self: It was indeed something telling about Sapphire’s eyes; they betrayed his thoughts, and he didn’t have to say a word. I heard them. You are lesser than me, Sodalite; less talented, less capable, less loved; and I pity you; even your name is a disgrace. I pity you because pity is the only thing you will ever have over me, and I will do everything in my power to run you into the ground.

And yet I didn’t let that bother me.

“I love you, Sapphire,” I said to counter what he had just said.

I love my brother, I love him, despite all that he felt for me. I love him because he’s my blood, my family. He mightn’t like me, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t care for him, be there for him, even when it was in vain, smile at him, play with him, and listen to him vent on sparse occasions.

Which is why I was unnerved by the dreams.

⁂

I had the dream again last night. It started off by recreating a memory. It was summertime, and we were nine years old. We were staying the week at Aunt Topaz, who lived in a posh little estate outside of Manehattan. Aunt Topaz had no neighbours, so the house stood alone, surrounded by forest, its own little paradise. A river was behind it, and it stretched long beside the scenic dirt trail and into the tall willows. The river was constantly in motion, so the peaceful splashing of water on the rocks could always be heard. Sapphire and I spent hours in the river with the water up to our knees, and we were grinning like the pair of fools we were, giggling as we tried to catch fish with our hooves.

And we thought ourselves as slick for being able to do that. It wasn’t until later I found out why they were so easy to catch: The trout always made their way upstream this time of year, so their numbers were greater and their haste made them dumb. As I remembered it, we stayed out there until the sun sank behind the trees, and our aunt refused to let us play any longer. Sapphire and I spent the remainder of that night inside, wrapped up in blankets while sitting in front of a log fire. We sang songs and told tales until neither of us could keep our eyes open any longer. It truly was a wonderful day.

However, the dream didn’t quite end so wonderfully. It changed when Sapphire and I were still crouched in the river, our hooves under the surface, waiting for a fish to swim close. It altered when I closed my hooves around a large rainbow trout—larger than any other we had caught that day. I could feel its scaly flesh underneath my hooves, feel its strong body trying to escape from my grasp, trying to liberate itself. Sapphire was to my left, jumping up and down and voicing words of excitement. But I focused only on my catch. So beautiful it was, a true prize winner. The setting sun gave life to the trout’s vivid features, its many coloured scales shining like a firefly at night. It made all its brethren look like sickly little leeches.

You are lesser than me, Sodalite, and I pity you.

My attention was drawn away only when a loud clap of thunder caused me to look up. Sapphire glanced up too. We watched as a blackness stretched across the sky; small at first, but then expanded out of nothing and curled outwards, eating up the sunset, the clouds, the trees, and everything else it could wrap itself around. Devouring not just sight, but sound as well. The rushing of water and the cawing of crows became muffled, and the world was silent. The world went dark, and I saw nothing but the blackness that enveloped me. I heard nothing but the sound of my own breathing. It’s as if the world had been temporarily shut down, like somepony had pushed the big red button and caused the world to suffer its demise. In an instant, the world had died and only darkness lived.

It lasted for a few more dragged out moments, and then the world took shape again, bringing the sounds and colours with it. I looked to my left, but Sapphire was gone. I became aware of the trout still wriggling in my hooves, but something had changed: The feeling of rough, scaly flesh had been replaced by an entirely new texture. My focus returned as I wrapped my hooves tighter around Sapphire’s throat. His mane fanned out around him as I pushed him down hard into the muddy river bottom.

And as a stream of bubbles escaped his mouth, I felt them hitting my lower leg. He tried to use magic, but I had suppressed it with a spell of mine. His eyes were so wide, I’m reminded of the insect pictures in my Father’s biology texts. He wore a look of panic on his face, but more so than that, a look of utter confusion. I consoled him with a soothing look of my own, reassuring him that I knew exactly what I was doing. I examined his face for another moment, and then I decided that I had seen enough. I closed my eyes with the slightest hint of a smile on my face, and I waited for the bubbles to stop hitting me.

⁂

With this final image burned in my mind, I was torn out of sleep; my body jolted upwards to a sitting position, my heart pounded, my body temperature was through the roof, and sweat soaked my entire body. I concentrated on controlling my breathing as I calmed down from my night terror. I supposed Princess Luna wasn’t back quite yet. I soon became aware of my surroundings, and my eyes adjusted to the darkness, and I could see the chair in the corner where Sapphire’s yarn basket and knitting needles rested. Beside it, on a wooden table, sat a small wax candle, its wick burned out and its base melted onto the plate underneath it. Somewhere in the distance guards were yelling at trespassers. To my left was Sapphire sitting upright in his bed. He watched me with a concerned and sleepy expression. “You alright, Sodalite?” he asked.

I realised that I must had cried out in my sleep and startled him. Even half asleep, his beauty sounded. “Yeah, sorry about that,” I said. “Just a nightmare. A scary one.”

Sapphire yawned. “Well it couldn’t have been that scary,” he said. ‘You were laughing like a crazy pony. Like, straight up laughing hysterically.” He was settling back under his covers. “You got issues, Sodalite, you really do.”

⁂

Soon enough, rhythmic breathing came from the bed next to me, and I knew Sapphire had fallen asleep once more. But I didn’t fall back asleep. I stayed where I was, upright in my bed, gawking madly at my extraordinary twin sleep. Watched as his chest rose and fell with every breath he took, and the way his nose twitched, and his reaction to whatever dream he was lost in.

And at some point I must had stood up without realising it, because I was now standing over his bed, still watching, with a sharp object; it was a tool Father used to dissect large insects. And as I watched him, I saw him for the first time. My best friend. My secret keeper. My inspiration. My storybook hero.

I love my brother, I love him, truly. And perhaps one day soon, I will miss him just as much.