Declan
Atikus stared as though the writing might come to life and fly off the page. He couldn’t move. His lip quivered, and his hand shook. Color drained from his cheeks. I’d never seen the man so shaken.
Finally, an eternity later, he looked up and motioned to the folded note that sat on the table an arm’s length away from where I sat.
“You need to read yours, Keelan, right now.” The steel in Atikus’s voice vied with the obvious emotions threatening to pour out of him.
I reached a hand out but hesitated.
What had Declan done?
This wasn’t some random victim of a crime I was investigating.
It wasn’t a distant relative or friend from my past.
This was my baby brother, the puffy-haired little boy I’d cradled in my arms when he’d learned we would never see our parents again.
This was the rambunctious rascal who kept me—and all the Mages—on our toes with one prank or joke after another.
This was my brother.
He was more than a sibling. He was part of me.
What had he done?
My fingers gripped the page. With my other hand, I grasped the parchment and unfolded it. My lips moved as I read, but no sound escaped. Atikus would have to read the words for himself.
Keelan,
My brother.
Where do I even begin?
To say I’ve been lost is to say the sun shines overhead. You’ve known it. Atikus knows it. Hells, everyone knows it.
I think I was the last to truly understand just how lost I’ve become.
So many things happened over the past few years, so many things—you wouldn’t understand.
I wish I could say I’ve grown or grown up, whatever I’m supposed to be doing here, but I don’t think I have. The only thing that’s grown is my own confusion. Confusion over who I am. Over who I should be. Over who I even want to be.
I just don’t know anymore. Spirits, I don’t know anything anymore.
More than anything, I miss us.
I miss our closeness, how we used to talk about everything, how I knew, no matter what, a chat between us would end with me in your arms and everything being okay.
When did we lose that?
When did we fall apart?
Spirits, I’ve tried to figure that out . . . so many times.
We were so close.
I guess it doesn’t really matter now. Maybe it never did, in the grand scheme of things. You have your life, your purpose, your ambition.
I have . . . I’m searching for mine.
I think I found what I’m supposed to do next. Maybe I’m making a big mistake and will need saving again, but it won't be you who saves me this time. I’ll be far out of your arms’ reach.
If I’m right, I might’ve discovered who I’m supposed to become.
At least, I think I have.
I hope I have.
There are so many things I want to say to you, but there is a Ranger at the door, and he’s scowling. He’s kind of scary, kind of like you when you put that cloak around your shoulders.
I have to go.
As much as I hate you sometimes, I love you, too.
Don’t be so stubborn. Let people help you.
And for the love of the gods and all that is holy, stop trying to protect everyone. It’s impossible, and it makes you look desperate.
I’m leaving now. I don’t know when I’ll see you again.
If I never said it, you’ve been a great big brother.