Brothers 'N Antlers

by Elkia Deerling

Chapter five: encounters

And so the elk brothers found each other again after these dreadful events. It took Alces a long time to get Elkia into doing something. When Elkia reached the bush, he just lied down, refusing to get back on his hooves again. He was utterly broken by the trauma. Yet, after some slaps in the face, Alces managed to bring Elkia to the terrible here and now. They were still only a few hundred yards away from the wolves, and if the foul beasts wanted, they could pick up their scents easily and pursue them.

So they ran. Together, they ran through the night, and didn’t stop until the morning sun shone over the pine trees. Alces tried to keep track of the route they galloped, but soon even he had to give up. Both of them had no idea where they were running to. The farther away from the roaming wolfpack, the better.

As they fled, Alces asked Elkia many questions. ‘What happened there? Where’s mother?’

The truth was that Elkia was both too tired and too traumatized to answer his brother’s questions. He just wanted to go. He wanted to take these black memories, put them into some magical cauldron, and make them pretty again. But of course, he knew that couldn’t be done. So he kept silent and focused on running.

Elkia was the first who lost his breath. Alces tried his best to spur him on, and run another extra mile, but in the end, Elkia kept stumbling and pausing, so they stopped. Immediately, once they reached a small clearing, Elkia slumped down into the snow. Alces sat by his side. He saw that his brother was having a hard time, as he kept crying and crying. But unfortunately, Alces did not know how to comfort his brother. In the past, when Elkia got bullied by someone, and Alces saw that he felt hurt, he would always march towards the bully, challenge him to a duel, and win gloriously. Sometimes Elkia even watched those duels, although he found them nasty and violent. Yet, they always did the trick. Alces was proud of himself, and Elkia was bullied no more.

But Elkia couldn’t cry forever. At one point, he felt as if he had cried out all the water in his body. Slowly, he stood up, and looked around at the clearing they were in. Then he saw his brother, and spoke to him. ‘Oh, Alces! Oh, oh Alces.’

When Alces saw his brother was once more going down, he was there for him. He caught Elkia, and they ended up in a warm, brotherly embrace. Alces had seen his mother embrace Elkia thousands of times, so at least he knew how to.

Alces too, felt bad. Although he was able to cope with the terrible fight much better than Elkia, he felt sad too. But in his mind, anger took the front seats. Why wasn’t he able to stop the attack? Why did his mother not stop the attack, if she was really clairvoyant? After the embrace, he walked around, bucking trees or demolishing bushes. He just felt so powerless. Maybe, if he had listened to old Cervidus longer, he could actually have done something, using the dark essence. Who knows…

Elkia stayed silent. He literally didn’t say a thing. However much Alces tried to find out what happened after he and his brother split up, Elkia couldn’t tell him one thing. He had the feeling he would never talk again. Alces knew for sure that his brother would never be the happy, carefree, and cheerful child again. And neither would he.

* *

For many weeks they tramped through the forest. It almost looked as if they were patrolling their own lands. The only difference was that they were just two. Even though their mother had shown them survival tricks—how to stay out of reach of predators like bears and wolves, how to forage for food, even when it was scarce—they were having trouble surviving. They had always been too giddy to pay attention, looking forwards to the next gathering, where they could do whatever they liked, however different that was.

The weather was only getting colder, as winter became worse. Both Alces and Elkia were always trembling, as not even their winter coats could keep them warm. Always, their stomachs were grumbling, demanding some better food than the occasional bark or shrub of heather they ate, both of which were equally tasteless and not very nutritious. They were very, very hungry, and felt weaker every day.

Both of them were largely silent. Elkia still didn’t speak, and Alces too, kept his muzzle shut. Elkia thought of almost nothing. The only things that went around in his mind were his grievous loss, the screams, the blood, and the pain on that fateful evening. He had put his body on the automatic pilot, and let himself be led by nothing but the craving of food and his survival instincts.

Where Elkia thought almost nothing, Alces was busy planning. He was thinking of a great many things, and was yearning to share his thoughts and plans with his brother. He hated sitting still and doing nothing. He wasn’t content with just trying to stay alive in the barren conditions. He needed a purpose again, a goal worth fighting for.

Alces became edgier and grumpier as his hunger increased. At last, he just couldn’t contain himself any longer. According to him, Elkia had had enough time to process his loss and recover from the trauma. Now it was time for action. On one bitter cold winter day, when they reached another clearing and were already looking for some tree to gnaw on, Alces spoke to his brother.

‘I have an idea, Elkia.’

Elkia said nothing.

‘Hey, are you listening?’

Still, Elkia said nothing.

Alces grabbed his brother by the shoulders and shook him hard. ‘Elkia, listen to me!’ and he repeated that a few times.

Every time Alces said that, a painful flashback stabbed Elkia’s mind like a dagger, because that was what the giant alpha wolf said too, before he… Elkia just wanted his brother to stop saying those words. In the end, he gave in. ‘What is your plan?’ he said, with a voice as meek as the distant light of a star.

Hearing his brother’s voice was something which took Alces a second or two to get used to. He hadn’t heard that sound in weeks. Shaking off his brief bafflement, he continued. ‘We have to go back.’

‘Go back?’ Elkia said, his tone still emotionless and flat. ‘Why?’

‘Wolves are roaming creatures,’ Alces answered. ‘I’m sure they are long gone by now. If we try, I’m sure we can find a way back to the Shimmering Eye.’

‘Why?’ Elkia said again.

But Alces was undaunted. He continued to explain his plan, with as much enthusiasm and strength as he could summon. ‘Because there may be other elks, deer, and reindeer who will do the same. Imagine that! We can go back and live the life we lost, together with the other survivors. We can rebuild our snow huts, cleanse the Shimmering Eye, and reunite. But of course, we will learn from our mistake, and build ramparts, walls, towers, and other fortifications to repel a second attack.’

Elkia showed no sign of listening. Alces thought he saw him nodding, but that could also have been a shiver from the cold. Still not giving up on convincing his brother, Alces tried his best to sound positive, although he felt irritation building with his brother’s stoic behavior. ‘But perhaps it won’t even come to that, Elkia. Maybe there won’t even be a second attack, because the wolves might think they have wiped out every single one of us. Maybe they are not interested in us or the Shimmering Eye anymore. Do you realize what that means, Elkia? That means we can live our lives in freedom, and never need to worry about the timber wolves again!’

Elkia moved his head away from his brother. He believed he saw a suitable—and hopefully not too tough—tree a few feet away.

Catching up with him, Alces shook him again, and slapped him on the back. ‘I’m sure Mother will be there too. Hay, I bet she’s already practicing the magic of the essence to foresee a new attack, if it will come. She is probably already giving out orders, rebuilding our great culture and society. Hay, maybe she has already taken her place as the queen of the elks.’

Slowly, Elkia moved towards the tree and began gnawing on it. If he really listened, he didn’t show it.

Now Alces lost his patience. He stomped his hooves on the ground, and snorted. ‘Doesn’t that look nice to you? Here I am trying to make all kinds of future plans, and you are just accepting everything as it is. Do you want to roam this blasted forest forever, Elkia? For forest’s sake, mother is waiting for us!’

‘Mother is dead!’

There was silence. Snowflakes fell down upon the trees and the ground and the elk brothers. Elkia was no longer biting on bark, but was now facing his brother, although he wasn’t looking him in the eyes. He didn’t dare to do that.

Alces’s voice was low, threatening, just like the alpha wolf’s. ‘What did you say?’

Warm tears appeared on Elkia’s cheeks, turning cold and icy in the gusts of wind. ‘Mother is dead, Alces. Mother… is dead, and there is nothing for us to return to. Everyone, everything is gone. For all I know… For all I know, we are the last surviving elks.’

Once again silence. Alces felt himself growing cold. Not on the outside, but on the inside. He felt as if the color drained away from the world around him. Slowly, growing clearer with every heartbeat, a red haze spread across his vision. His muscles quivered. At last, he couldn’t stand it anymore. ‘No…’ he said. ‘NO!’ he shouted. ‘NOOOOOOOOOOO!’

He turned his back on Elkia, and ran around the clearing. No tree was safe for his bucking hind hooves and punching front hooves. ‘You can’t say that! It isn’t true! Mother is alive. She is the seer, for essence’s sake!’ He stopped at a particularly large tree. With every punch and headbutt, more bark flew off the trunk, like brown flakes of snow. He kept punching and punching, venting his anger and trying to find some reason why. At last, he suddenly stopped assaulting the tree. With two powerful, rage-filled jumps, he reached his brother. He grabbed Elkia’s muzzle with his hooves, forcing him to watch the fire in his eyes.

‘I am… I am so sorry, Alces,’ Elkia said.

At first he said nothing, Alces just snorted once, twice. He grinded his teeth together loud enough for Elkia to hear. His dark brows hung heavily over red, furious eyes. At last he said something. Once again slowly, darkly, he said, ‘Why?’

Trembling, seeing more wolfish traits in his brother than ever before, Elkia didn’t know what to say. He swallowed. Despite the cold, he was sweating. ‘Wh-what do you—’

‘You were with her when we got separated! You should have looked after her. You saw what happened to her. Now you owe me the story of our mother’s death!’

Elkia backed away. He had never before seen his brother so angry. He fumbled to find suitable words. In his mind, a dictionary opened, but the pages were all blank. ‘Eh… eh…’

‘Eh… eh… WHAT?!’ Alces shouted. ‘What? Are you at a loss for words, Elkia Deerling. You always knew the right thing to say during those theater plays. You always knew how to capture feelings in poems and stories, yet now you can’t even tell me what happened? By the Dark Elk, you are such a baby!’

There was nothing of Elkia left. He felt so powerless against this wall of rage. His mother was right. He had to be tougher, and Alces had to be softer. Together, they were one elk. But now it seemed that the difference between them had never been bigger. ‘I… I…’

‘YOU were the one who ran away to “help” that group of fleeing elks. YOU were foolish enough to think that there was something you could do for them. And in that moment of foolishness, YOU dragged mother away with you, following you towards her end.’ Alces foamed at the mouth as he spoke, and he shouted more and more words at the top of his lungs.

‘I… I am so sorry, Alces,’ Elkia thought his tears had run dry, but now he discovered he had a few more of them. Elkia knew his brother was right. He fully accepted the fact that he himself was responsible for Aeltha’s death.

But Alces wasn’t done yet. ‘And you know what I hate even more about that? I hate the fact that mother KNEW she was going to die. You and I both know that she had seen all of this coming. Yet, for the sake of YOU she followed, and stepped right into her own grave.’

Accusations, accusations… Elkia couldn’t say something sharp or mean back. He just couldn’t deal with his brother’s rage.

‘Dumbstruck again, eh?’ Alces said. ‘Well, you don’t even have to tell me anything. I can picture the image in my head well enough. Back there, at the rim of the forest, I saw how those wolves had you surrounded. I saw how this giant timber wolf thing came out of nowhere. I can picture the fear in her eyes, and how she got torn apart by those terrible beasts.’

‘I… I…’

Alces let out a mocking little hint of laughter. ‘You know, I was actually wondering and guessing if the group I spotted was the same group you ran after with mother. I hoped I had found you both. I hoped YOU were safe too.’

One more time Elkia tried to say something, but one more time he failed.

‘And there you were, running right out of the fray. Hay, now that I think of it, I found it mighty suspicious that only you came to me.’ Alces’s nose touched Elkia’s. Electro bolts shot out of Alces’s eyes. ‘Did you make some kind of deal with that wolf, eh? Did the wolf have to choose between you and her? Were you such a coward that you didn’t even sacrifice yourself? I’d almost wish… No, I do wish that wolf ate YOU instead of our mother!’

Between sobs, Elkia finally managed to say something. ‘But… why do you say such a terrible thing?’

Alces withdrew his head with a jerk and bared his teeth. ‘Maybe because I mean it! And here are some more things I mean. I am ashamed to be your brother! I am ashamed to have such a spineless coward as my kin. I wish Mother were alive, but maybe even more than that, I wish you were dead!’

‘Alces… no!’

‘Yes!’ Alces shouted. ‘I don’t want to hear anything from you anymore. I am going away, and I’m going to find the herd. You better make sure you’re going in the other direction, or else I might just use the power of dark essence inside myself, and eat you like a predator!’

Hearing his brother’s painful words, Elkia couldn’t even begin retorting. Dark essence? He had no idea what to make of that. Instead, he turned his gaze to the ground, and hung his head low. ‘I can only say the oldest cliché in theater and stories that ever existed.’

‘And that is?’ Alces grumbled.

‘I’m sorry.’

But Alces wasn’t listening anymore. He had turned his back to his brother, and jumped through the shrubs. In the blink of an eye, he was gone. Elkia knew it was for good.

* *

What could Elkia do now? He didn’t even want to do anything anymore. A thick, black cloak of guilt covered him from head to hoof. He had lost the herd, his mother, and now his brother too. What was left of him anymore? Even he himself had no idea.

He sat in the snow at the clearing, and sat there for a long time, thinking about nothing at all. Soon, the snow piled up beside his hooves, higher and higher. When at last the terrible claws of cold raked over his back and made his bones rattle together, Elkia stood up, and moved away. He walked alone through the forest, his head low, his shoulders slumped. He sometimes stopped to nibble at some bark, but despite his biting hunger, he soon lost the will to eat too.

The loneliness totally overwhelmed him wherever he went. Even on the most barren and challenging treks through the most inhospitable weather, Elkia always talked with his brother or his mother. Not being able to say anything to anyone just felt… wrong. If he had a shoulder to cry on, he would cry for hours. If he had some ears that listened to him, he would talk about his grief forever. But he had no one, no one at all.

Yet, the silence gave him time to think. Elkia mulled and mulled over everything that happened. He said to himself that he just had to find the words with which he could express his feelings. Secretly, he nourished the hope that he would run into Alces, and when that happened, Elkia wanted to say something. He didn’t want to be dumbstruck any longer. He wanted to say exactly what happened to his mother, however painful it would be to speak about that.

Elkia had always been creative; it was in his nature to make things. Now, he wanted to build a solid house made of excuses and resentment. He knew he had to find the right words to say what he wanted to say. He thought and he thought, scratching his head and raking his mind, trying to come up with something—anything. He went over it step-by-step, and looked at his house like an architect. First, he needed a framework, a mold he could use to pour his ideas in. A long story was impossible. Judging by his rumbling stomach and his wobbly steps, Elkia reckoned he wouldn’t live long enough to finish a long tale. With a sniff and a small tear he realized that theater too, couldn’t be done. He had no one to play a role, as everyone was… dead.

So, if not a theater play or a story, then what was left?

Poetry!

And right at that moment, as if on cue, the snow stopped falling. Although the winds were still icy cold, the clouds held on to their white payload. It seemed even the weather wanted to help Elkia in his artistic attempt. Elkia looked up at the dark clouds. Now that there wasn’t any snow, he could write things down on the snowy ground without the falling white flakes filling up the words and letters and wiping out his creation. Elkia knew he had to take this chance.

He walked towards a tree, and snapped off a branch. That was his pencil. Fueled by at least a little bit of purpose, Elkia walked on, until he came by a little clearing. Luck was with him, because a stream ran right around it. Elkia wanted to drink. With his tongue hanging out of his mouth, he approached the stream, ready to quench his thirst. Unfortunately, his luck soon ran out. Trying his best, he wasn’t able to smash through the ice with his hooves. He punched and stomped, but it didn’t work. An unhealthy cocktail of starvation, dehydration, and hypothermia had made him too weak to break the ice. He sat down on the ice, panting hard. No matter, he thought. Weakened as he was, he was still able to write.

It was a foolish thing to see. An elk with a stick in his mouth, with trembling legs, was writing down words in the snow. Elkia Deerling was using his last energy and will to live to make a poem. His mind was set on it. He didn’t even think about how he was going to show it to his brother. Hay, he knew he couldn’t even find his way back to it if he eventually did find his brother. It was a silly thing to do, and yet he did it, simply because it had to be done. And if anything, it might be his epitaph.

Has the world gone mad, has everything gone wrong?
Am I slowly losing my wit?
The robin, loudly, sings a song
Yet I cannot enjoy it

My mantel of sorrow, I wear tight
Drawn over my cloak of shame
What have I done, in my moment of fright?
I am the only one to blame

My mother is dead, my father is gone
To a pretty afterlife, who knows?
Is it right, or is it wrong?
Reality hits me with vicious blows

What could I have done better?
In moments of chaos and discord
Cold hard loneliness holds me in fetters
Tortures me word for word

That was poem number one. Elkia dropped the stick and read over it. He furrowed his brows in thought, thinking up more words. He made some corrections, wiping out a few words with his hooves or adding some words where he thought necessary. Then he stepped back, and read over everything one last time. It wasn’t his best work, and it couldn’t even begin describing the mad wild water rapids that were his emotions. But, it was better than wandering around aimlessly. However terrible the memories that the words conjured up were, deep down inside, Elkia actually felt a tiny bit better. He had something to do now, something that wasn’t even useful—but it was useful to him.

He thought again for a while, and then wrote at the top of the poem: Feelings.

Now that he had the poem done, what next? Elkia stood up again. Although his long legs felt as if they were made out of butter, he managed to stand upright. His stomach turned into a knot, which sharp, clawed fingers tried to loosen, yet, he still managed to think, and drive away the feelings of hunger and loneliness, however temporarily. There was space enough on the snowy ground, and there was still no snowfall. Elkia could make another poem. He grabbed his stick, thought for a moment, and then set to work once more.

On predator and prey

Prey and predator, predator and prey
Is there really no other way?
Are they laws, or merely songs?
Does anyone know where he belongs?

The poor prey run for their lives
Fathers with their children and wives
Forever pursued by vicious beasts
Who do nothing but long for feasts

The predator, with rotten heart
Full of dark essence, every part
Needs to kill to survive
And gladly takes another life

This vicious cycle goes on and on
Beneath the moon or under the sun
Everyone is on the run
Only predators are having fun

As he wrote about the sun, Elkia looked up in the sky. He had worked all day on his poems, and now the sun was setting. Elkia blinked. At first he thought he was crying, but then he realized that his sight was getting blurrier and blurrier by itself, and he had to squint to be able to read the words over. He put the title above the poem, when a particularly nasty shiver sent his teeth clattering and made the stick fall out of his mouth. It promised to be a cold night.

Elkia had no survival plan whatsoever. He knew this cold night was going to be his last night. If he could manage to fall asleep without awakening himself with his shivers, he knew he wouldn’t open his eyes again. With every step he took, he leaned heavily on the stick, and found that he couldn’t walk without it anymore. He saw things, things that couldn’t be true. His mother stood before him, reaching out to support her dead-tired son. Elkia smiled. He dropped the stick and hobbled towards her, ready to be comfortable, safe, and loved again. Alas, it was just an illusion, created by the chain of fatigue and the stomach-twisting hunger. When at last Elkia thought he had reached her, the illusion dissipated, and he fell forwards into the snow.

Instinctively, Elkia stood up again. He had to gather his last strength, his last energy, but he managed to stand up. ‘No,’ he said. ‘No, I’m not done yet.’ He looked at his two poems, the words harder and harder to read in the dusk. There was room for one more. He had to make one more. Not for himself, but for his mother. He hadn’t even had the chance to bury her or remember her properly. Yet, with the last light in his eyes, he found that he should make her epitaph, right here, right now. His knees bent, and he fell down again. Using the stick, he balanced himself as well as he could. Then, painfully slow, slowly and painful, he walked towards the empty space, the snow as white as a piece of parchment.

I will never forget you
You were the shining white light
Of a faithful star in the night
It’s cliché, but it’s true

You guided my way
Taught me right and wrong
Gave me the herd to which I belong
Walked with me every day

Our bond was as strong
As the antlers of the Light One
We were a family, we had fun
Playing and singing a song

I can’t do without
Your wisdom and cheer
Right now, I shed a tear
Accompanied by doubt

And to finish it off, Elkia wrote the name of his mother on top: Aeltha.

That was it. He had done what he wanted to do, and now he could die a relatively peaceful death, although he still felt pained inside. He turned his back to his creations, and sat on his haunches right on top of a snowy bush of long-dead heather. It was hardly a comfortable bed, but he didn’t care. Soon, he would be done with the cold, with the loneliness, with the sorrow and guilt. He had no idea how right he was, but not in the way he thought.

Who knows? Maybe there will be a beautiful afterlife after all? If that were true, he could reunite with his mother. But unfortunately, the family would still be incomplete. Alces was still out there somewhere. Oh, how Elkia longed to see his brother, show him the poems, and tell him he was sorry a million times. But he just didn’t have the strength, energy, spunk, and will to live anymore. It was over.

Elkia opened his eyes one last time. The colors all seemed to fade, as the darkness set in. He had no idea if the colors were actually fading, or if night was just coming to swallow him whole. He looked back. Someone was approaching. He had no idea who it was, or if there was actually someone there. Against the white snow, it was easy to spot the strange new colors. Elkia blinked. Where first there had been one shape, now there were three—or was it just his imagination? Three creatures, bearing the same, muddy brown, were speeding towards him. Elkia knew they were three timber wolves. Somehow, they must have got lost from the pack, and now they were traveling in a trio, looking for lonely and weakened prey.

What was Elkia to do now? He couldn’t even stand on his own hooves anymore, let alone fight three timber wolves at once. He wanted to turn around, to face death into the eyes, but found that his own body was too heavy for him. Instead, he laid his head down on the ground, crossed his hooves, and hoped for a swift death.

Elkia closed his eyes.