Ashes of Eden

Rain pelted Eric's t-shirt clad back, soaking the already drowned material. Dad canceling their hunting trip hadn't been bad enough. Nope. He got to walk home from school in what he could only describe as 'God's Flood Part two'. Great luck. Eric came through the door cursing under his breath, slamming the door behind him—locking out the cold wind. He shivered, feeling like a drowned mutt. His hair was dripping and sticking to his forehead, making it itch. He made an annoyed face, blowing out a sigh, walking from the minuscule hall…

"Shit," Eric grunted, halting.

He hefted his schoolbag higher on his left shoulder while kicking off his sneakers. Wouldn't want Carter to come home and bitch about mud-tracking across his spotless floor. Eric rolled his eyes, heading into the living room/kitchen area of their apartment. He knew Carter got Dinah to clean up whenever she came by. How? Eric hadn't the slightest idea.

Since Dad cancelled on him there wasn't much to do. Well… he glared at his bag with disdain. Yeah, there was homework. Forgive him if he wasn't jumping at the opportunity of spending his whole weekend with his nose stuck in a book. It'd be hell. Like usual. Words would start to shift on paper. Eric would get worked up, embarrassed and maybe burn the thing to ashes. The thought was delightful, he smiled. It vanished quickly as Eric let the wet bag fall near Carter's worn lime couch. Eric wasn't a fashion adviser or anything, but every time he saw this eyesore he wondered what in hell's name made Carter buy this thing. Did his brother think it brought the room together? Maybe Carter was daltonic. Who knew? Eric was dyslexic. Maybe bad genes ran in their family tree.

Eric spent ten minutes surfing through random channels before heading for the small bedroom Carter gave him last year. After getting kicked out of school—again—Eric needed to enroll somewhere new. Since Carter lived in Seattle because of College, Eric ended up crashing with his brother. Eric grumbled sitting on his bed, stretching. His muscles were swollen with tension. He could hear Carter telling him not to sulk like a seven year-old. Eric dragged a long sword from underneath his bed, the double-edged blade wrapped in cloth. Carter hadn't laughed when Eric decided he wanted to learn fencing. Dad had. He only practiced this sword—this very lethal object—indoors.

"Practice at home. Not at the park. Definitely not at school. I can already hear Dad yelling because you decapitated someone and will face a death penalty." Carter had joked once when he'd caught Eric trying to sneak outside to practice.

He sat on his bed polishing and dragging a whetstone across the blade's edges, sharpening it. Eric didn't know why he bothered, it wasn't like he needed it sharp, but it calmed him and he enjoyed it a hundred times more than doing homework. Eric was lulled by the sound of stone meeting steel, plus the rain pounding his window. Slowly, tension from Dad's bad news melted away.

***

Eric heard him come in. He didn't know how late it was. But there was no mistaking those footfalls or the smell of cologne. Carter crept in and Eric's eyes blinked open, going alert. When had he fallen asleep? A shiver travelled up his spine. Whoops, clothes were still wet.

"Little brother, I strongly advise against straddling sharp objects. I think it's high time you got yourself a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. I don't discriminate. Just please don't cut your head off or stab yourself to death. Dad would impale me when he found out…" Eric threw a pillow at Carter's head with a fierce swing of his arm. Carter, always nimble, ducked. The pillow hit Eric's wall, falling to the ground. "That's nice. Throw things at the one who feeds you. Hey," Carter pointed straight at his still wet shirt. "Wait. Aren't you supposed to be… I don't know… Not here? Wasn't Dad picking you up from school?"

"Yeah. He cancelled because of the bad weather."

"You walked home from school?"

"Yes, Captain Obvious, as you've already pointed out, I'm soaked." Eric bit out, feeling defensive when something shifted in Carter's eyes. Playfulness subsided and a softer light beamed Eric's way.

"It works out great, anyway. Dinah's visiting her parents for the weekend. So we can spend it however you like—err, expect hunting." His brother was weird. He'd been trying to pick a fight and Carter was brushing it off. Being… kind. "Go take a shower while I fix us some food. Now, Eric." He reinforced, giving Eric a little side shove.

Eric groaned dropping the defiant face. Food sounded good. He darted for their shared bathroom, shrugging out of his t-shirt, kicking off his jeans, socks and boxers. Eric climbed into the shower catching his reflection as he went. His brown hair was tossed, spiky, in all directions. Good thing he kept it short. Having longer hair—like his brother—would be a real hassle, getting in his eyes. He didn't need anything making him blind. He needed to be sharp. It struck Eric that most people would look at him as if he were crazy if they read half his thoughts. Why would he need to be ready? Eric brushed it off, turning on the hot water. He squirted a handful of shampoo, washing his hair. Halfway through rinsing, Eric's eyes caught on water drops. How they fell. Fell on the tiles, sliding down, dancing with eloquence. Something Eric was utterly fascinated by. Their twisting and dancing down the wall, down his body. Eric touched the back of his neck, drawing out a long sigh, vision dulling. His skin was red from heat, it reminded him of bonfires. He held up his hand under the running water, watching as water droplets became something different—something more enticing. Like people. People who were dancing on hot ground. No, not on hot ground. Around flames, fires. They were dancing in a frenzy. Not laughing or happy, but completely besotted. And out of their mouths came a name.

Eric felt his head tilt, mouth slightly parted trying to say what the dancing people were yelling.

His mind swam. His leg muscles were wound so tightly he couldn't feel them. He didn't know what was holding him up. Words bubbled deep inside him, trying to claw their way to the surface but it was no use. Like when he'd been little, learning how to read, they wouldn't come out right. Nothing more than disjointed grunts. Eric closed his calloused hand, crushing whatever dancing crowds or flames. That broke his daze. Eric's muscles softened and he stumbled, hitting the wall behind him. He choked—then coughed.

"Carter…" he managed in a strained voice. Far from the deep tone he was used to. He stopped himself. What would he tell his brother? That he'd hallucinated naked bodies dancing around a bonfire? Preaching or whatever the hell they'd been doing?

Eric climbed out, wrapping a towel around his hips. He'd gone too long without eating and now he was seeing things. Had to be it. Before leaving, Eric glared across the fogged-up space with icy-dead eyes, watching steam curl. He sneered at it once it turned a deeper hue of gray, like smoke. From a dying fire.

"If you break that door you'll have to fix it!" Carter yelled after he slammed the bathroom door. A spatula was accusingly pointed at Eric as he made his way across the living room, unashamed of his obvious lack of clothes. "We've talked about you parading naked—"

Eric rolled his eyes, "I'm wearing a towel."

"If Dinah was here—"

"She's not,"

"Well, if she were, you'd still do the same thing and I don't want my girlfriend catching a peek of my baby brother's crown jewels."

Eric scoffed, "I'm sure they'd be an upgrade from yours."

Carter waved the spatula of death around—almost catching Eric's shoulder. And Carter was concerned about Eric practicing his longsword… At this rate, Carter would take out one of their eyes.

"Eric, do not engage in sex-dissing with me. I have five years on you, you'll lose."

"Whatever," Eric glanced down at what his brother was cooking. He drew a blank face, catching his brother's petrol blue eyes. "Scrambled eggs again?"

"Eggs have a lot of protein. Great for a growing boy like you."

"I'm as tall as you." True enough. But while their heights were the same—give or take two inches—their body build sure wasn't. Eric was lean at the waist, broadening at his shoulders and back. Carter wasn't skinny by any means, but next to Eric he was slender.

"But with all that muscle you need lots of protein." Carter moved the egg bits around, keeping them from getting brunt. "Go get dressed. You're not eating naked."

Eric went with a grunt. People worried over weird stuff. Why? So, what if Dinah saw him naked? Wasn't like she'd never seen cocks and balls. He grabbed a sweatshirt from his dresser, throwing on a fresh pair of boxers and dark jeans, he'd just finished putting on socks when the ceiling light flickered to life. Going dead two seconds later. Eric glared at the ceiling, watching light flickering on and off. It was pure instinct what he did next. He gave a quick jump, making a grab for the hilt of his sword. He didn't know why. Little hairs on Eric's neck stood up. His blood pumped with anticipation of… something. It all happened in a flash. It was like a rift being torn open—reality tearing before Eric's cold eyes. Colors muddled because of the growing bubble. Eric's eyes widened, things were floating in his bedroom. Eric watched pencils, pens, books hanging carelessly in the air. Even his boots. Eric reached out a hand for the pulsing bubble of blue light. His fingers, his muscles, his tendons, felt stretched too thin. The bubble was sucking him in, closer. Eric wasn't putting any weight to stop himself from being drawn in. He was breathing faster and for a minute Eric thought he was surprised because this had taken so long to happen and not because it was happening.

His bedroom door opened and his unsuspecting brother walked through.

"Eric, did you go shopping…" Carter's carefree words died in a gasp.

Eric's eyes darted only for his brother's sake. What Eric found floored him even more. Carter wasn't afraid—no, he was. But Carter wasn't scared of the otherworldly bubble floating in Eric's bedroom. Carter's scared eyes were on him. Carter's lips were moving, what was he…

"What are you doing idiot? Hang on to something, you're sliding closer—!" It was then Eric saw his older brother's hand grabbing at the door knob. Knuckles gone white. "Eric!"

Carter yelled but it was too late. Whatever this was—this feeling—it felt good. Almost predestined. Which Eric found stupid. But then again, didn't seventeen-year old's find everything stupid? Eric let himself slide in. Freely. He plunged into the strange twisting bubble, falling through it and being tossed and shaken. It lasted forever. It lasted for a minute. When Eric came to, what he saw wasn't his bedroom.

The ground was hard but grass tickled his exposed hands and neck. Eric's slit eyes snapped open when he felt a familiar weight on his right palm. The hilt of his sword. Eric's fingers instantly drew around it, then, he rolled onto his stomach. Eric glared at the trees, taller than any he'd seen before. He stabbed the sword into the ground to help himself up. Where was he? Shuffling came from behind Eric, leaving him tense.

"Oh God," eyes widening, Eric spun around, finding Carter rubbing his head vigorously. "I don't remember the last time I got this high. Shit… I quit weed junior year… Then… what the hell?" Eric couldn't remember the last time his brother cursed in front of him. "Eric," Carter breathed suddenly—urgently.

Eric couldn't help himself. He threw himself at his brother's side, free hand hovering Carter's right shoulder. Eric wasn't good at comfort. Not with words. He was pretty much a screw-up as a human being, he thought hollowly, finally letting his hand land on his brother's shoulder. He was better with touch.

"Eric," this time Carter looked straight at him. Eric knew that look. It made his stomach churn. "You idiot. I told you to grab onto something, didn't I? Seriously, this rebellious stage is getting out of hand. I miss when you were little and followed me around and listened to me. Now where the heck—ah. Geez! This can't be normal. One minute I'm cooking eggs, the next I land in a forest!" Disappointment. Anger. Things Eric didn't usually get from Carter.

"I didn't mean to…" Eric said softly, though it sounded like an angry cry. He cut himself off, unsure what would've come next.

Carter's hand shot out, fingers curling around Eric's elbow. He didn't pull him or push Eric away. It was almost like Carter wanted to make sure Eric wouldn't fizzle out.

"I know," Carter answered, purring in a tender voice Eric knew from when they'd been kids and Carter wanted to teach him why something was wrong. It was his conman voice. "I know you didn't. It's okay. It'll be okay."

"Are you lying?"

Carter gave a wry smile, "Am I?"

"I… hope not." Eric hated lying. But his brother made anything sound convincing enough. "I didn't do anything for that thing to show up—I didn't. That bubble-thing just popped up and then…"

Carter mussed his neck-length hair, "It's so strange," Eric said nothing, waiting. Carter sighed, "I was just going to yell for you to come and eat… But then… Something happened—I can't really explain what. A feeling in my chest, a whisper in the back of my head, it made me go to your room. It made me open the door. I wonder…" Carter trailed off, eyes closing, pensive.

"What?" Eric's voice rung around them. A feeling kept zapping through him. He didn't understand it, so he ignored it.

"A few days ago, I saw something. I was walking home from Dinah's dorm and while I was waiting—to cross the street—I saw it. People dancing. Screaming. I couldn't understand what they were saying, at first. It was hard, almost like they were speaking another language. Or in tongues. But it became clear when I played it backwards in my head. They were calling out a name." Eric wasn't aware of how his heart rate increased. "They were saying…"

Eric startled backwards when a shadow appeared out of nowhere, landing between him and his brother. And because a new body popping up wasn't enough, a feral growl came from beyond the trees' edge causing the afternoon sky to be covered by a curtain of fleeing birds.