Twins in Exile

Thank you to everyone who has chosen to check out this story, whether you are a fan of my previous writing or entirely new to it, I welcome you. I have been struggling with writing and motivation for a while, but this is both my longest piece and the one I hope can get my confidence back. I owe many thanks to Jim1855 for taking the time to edit this piece, and my hope is that any future works I publish here will go through an editor before publication. With that said, I hope you enjoy this story, and I look forward to any feedback.

The salty air blew past the two travellers, and through the dilapidated lighthouse that stood on its lonesome on the edge of the cliff. The sound of birdsong and lapping waves as they crashed against the rocks below made for a serene picture, but the beauty was lost on the young man and woman as they dejectedly looked up at the tall stone building. The little amount of grass that clung to the rocks barely absorbed their footsteps, the rest captured by the howling wind. This was a truly desolate place.

"Some fine mess you've landed us in, big sister." The man cracked his neck, chest-nut coloured hair dancing in the wind past his face and shoulders. His features were smooth, with a thin nose and mouth. His deep-green eyes looked over at the woman beside him, holding quite a bit of tension.

"Just because I was born two minutes earlier than you does not mean I am responsible for everything." She sighed deeply, holding a hand up to prevent her long hair from blowing into her face and further obscuring her vision. "Come on, let's get inside. I have a feeling this wind will not make for a pleasant evening."

The man nodded and hefted his backpack to approach the lighthouse. "You know, I never thought Mother and Father would actually ever make good on their word." He pushed the worn wooden door and it opened with little resistance. "Guess we'll have to fix this too." He sighed.

"Oh, stop whining. We'll make a plan once we're safe and dry inside, and get some lunch settled." Her stomach rumbled, something she did not bother trying to hide. Their provisions were running low, and they had both cursed each other for it. In truth, they had simply been too used to extravagant living so what they thought was a normal portion was meant to last for three days.

Roman scoffed and shuddered as the door closed behind them. "What lunch? We have a loaf of bread between us, and some very stale jerky. Even prisoners are fed better than that." He dumped his pack onto the rickety table that stood in the foyer of the lighthouse and almost on cue, it broke under the weight, sending splinters of wood and rusty nails all over the stone floor. "Oh, well that's just perfect." He groaned, shoulders slumped.

"Get a hold of yourself!" Scarlet smacked him in the back of the head, the sound echoing between the thick stones, all the way up the hewn staircase settled into the stone itself. "I know this is not what either of us had planned, but we'll make do. So stop your whining, and see if there's any firewood left."

Roman grumbled, but he did go to look for some firewood. Gods above knew that they needed it, otherwise their exile would be a short and cold one.

Scarlet stayed behind, taking in their new home. The round central chamber was barely the size of their old dining room, and a thick layer of dust lay all over the floor. Wooden frames that had once held trophies now hung empty on the walls, their edges nibbled on by various insects in a desperate search for sustenance. What had once passed for a carpet now resembled nothing so much as a moth-eaten piece of drapery, large holes chewed into it and mildew covering most of the fabric. That coupled with the stale air, long shadows cast by the sunlight peeking through the open door, and the complete lack of luxuries or amenities, made for a truly dismal place.

"Oh joy." She sighed and found a stone bench to set her pack onto. She rubbed her shoulders, dearly wishing she could ask her handmaiden to give her a massage, but Vera was three weeks travel away. "Couldn't even let us bring Vera along. Father, Mother? Did we offend you so?"

Roman' voice cut through the silence as he returned, arms full of various pieces of wooden furniture that had simply given up on staying together as concrete units. "I still blame you for that. If you had not driven us into---"

"You were the one who got us drunk in the first place, so don't come complaining to me!" Scarlet snapped back, her words laced with venom. She stared at her twin brother, defiant.

The faintest hint of a smirk appeared on Roman' face as he dumped the wooden debris onto the floor. "I thought you were supposed to be the big sister and keep me out of trouble?"

Scarlet huffed, arms crossed. "Don't you give me that smile. I'm not one of the ladies in the brothels or bars, it won't work on me."

His smirk remained where it was. "Come on, now. Sure, we ended up getting exiled for it, but it was one hell of a ride, wasn't it?" He moved to sit down next to her.

"You're hopeless." The sharpness of her tone had dulled somewhat, unable to stay mad at her brother for too long. They were too alike in that way, even if they got the other into trouble, they always stuck together, for better, or especially, for worse.

Roman laughed, leaning back against the stone wall. "I have to keep my spirits up somehow." He paused, expression growing softer. "At least we will have each other to harass."

Scarlet sighed again. "Strange as it may sound, that is a relief to me. Our stay here would be unbearable if we were alone, and I don't want silence between us. That's in truth, the last thing I want."

"Then we are in agreement." Roman patted her hand. "We will make it through this, and hopefully soon? Our parents will come to the realization that they miss us, and want us back."

"I think we'd be better off wishing for the earth to fall upwards." Scarlet stood back up, rolling up the sleeves of her jacket. "Alright, let's get a fire going, eat some lunch, and then we'll continue to explore our new home. Deal?" She reached out a hand towards him.

"Deal." Roman shook her hand, glad that they at least had one another in this isolated place.

After a brief and unsatisfying lunch, the two of them set out to explore more of their new home. Ascending the stairs to the second floor they found the living quarters of the former lighthouse-keepers, forgotten and ruined like everything else. Wooden chairs crumpled with age, tin cups discarded against the cold stone walls, and remains of playing cards that had seemingly fused with the floor. In all, it was a dismal sight.

"So this is what hell looks like."

Scarlet punched her brother's elbow lightly. "Don't call it that. If you do, we won't look for an escape. I think of it more as... purgatory."

Roman shrugged. "Whatever we decide to name it, the facts remain the same. We are alone out here, abandoned, and to call this place a fixer-upper would be the understatement of the century."

Scarlet groaned, but did not argue. "Look, let's just find the sleeping quarters so we can dump our bags and maybe, just maybe, look to getting some sleep tonight. Provided the holes in the walls are not so numerous the wind will come through and freeze us to death."

Roman didn't answer, and simply walked over to the dilapidated door that seemed to hang from the wall through sheer stubbornness. "Well, looks like one part of our search is over." He stepped inside the room that had served as living quarters for the lighthouse keepers in ages past. Four simple cots, a set of cookware buried under dust, bureaus for keeping clothes in, but... that was roughly it. In truth, it was worse than the regular servant's quarters back in their old home.

"Nope, you're right. We're in hell." Scarlet sighed, pushing past her brother and looking around the limited space. "So we have to share a room? Like when we were five?"

Roman shrugged, sitting down on one of the hard cots, any bedding long since collapsed. "Seems that way. I don't like it anymore than you do, but we have little choice. We can't really run away." He rubbed the back of his neck, still feeling jolts go through his fingers as they touched the magical brand on his skin.

Scarlet frowned and took the cot farthest away from her brother. "You don't have to remind me. So, what do we do now? Do we have to..." She gestured to the room around them. "Clean this up? I don't want to sleep in such a filthy place. I'd prefer the bedroll on the ground."

Roman chuckled, smirking as he leaned back against the stone wall. "With those winds that howl outside? We'd be turned into salted and dried jerky. I don't like this either, but fact is, if we want to survive and have any hope of actually rejoining society? We need to make this place liveable." He paused. "Well, to the degree that is possible." He yawned. "Though I am feeling like a nap is in order."

Scarlet rolled her eyes and retrieved her bedroll, laying it down on top of the cot. "You do have a point, much as I hate to admit it. Fine, we take a breather and then? We get to work. I am not spending a full night surrounded by this much filth."

Roman yawned again. "Suit yourself. I've slept in worse places. Alleys can be surprisingly comfortable."

"Only when you're too drunk to realize that what you think is a pillow is actually a sack of mouldy vegetables. Least you won't be getting drunk anytime soon out here."

Roman shuffled on the cot to lay down, closing his eyes. "Oh, I'm not too concerned about that. I'd be more worried about withdrawal for you. It should be setting in soon."

Scarlet stiffened as she laid down on the bedroll, trying to not think too deeply on her brother's comment. Reaching out to touch the hand-sown patch on the pack she swallowed. The white powder inside was down to a fifth of what she set out with. What would happen when it ran out? She didn't want to think about that. It seemed too dark a situation, and she wanted some light. "Don't sleep too long, little brother. We have work to do."

Roman waved his hand dismissively and yawned for a third time. "Yeah yeah. We'll get to it soon enough. For now, I just want to dream of better times. Perfume, a woman in my arms, wine... the good life."

Scarlet didn't answer, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. What had they landed themselves into? For the second time in her life, she was truly worried about her future. As the concerns swirled in her mind, she gradually relaxed and then, it all went black as sleep took her.

The birds had been singing a beautiful symphony in the garden, directed by the animal handler that had cost a small fortune to employ. Scores of people were gathered in attendance, a glass held in their hands with a pinky out, and a respectful smile on their lips. Not a single wrinkle or crease to be seen anywhere, the men's moustaches were waxed and the women's hair immaculately styled to match the modern fashion. All in all, it was a true example of high-born society at its absolute stuffiest. A gathering where everyone adhered to the rules of socializing with zero exceptions.

Then, all hell broke loose. With the carriage crashing into the marble fountain, sending the songbirds in all directions, scattering decorative fish and water everywhere, and soaking many of the attendants. Shrill shrieks of panic spread through the crowd as it dispersed, seeking refuge from the madness. Cutting through the discordant chorus was the bellowing voice of Lord Anthon, his face red with rage and knuckles whitening. His red outfit was stained with water and lilypads, a few fish flopping at his feet before they expired from lack of oxygen.

"Roman! What in all the gods' name do you think you are doing?!"

Roman came stumbling out of the wrecked carriage, hand at his pounding forehead before he fell hard to the ground, groaning as his nose collided with stone. His festive clothes were a mess, cravat half undone, several coat buttons missing, and the tell-tale signs of unfocused eyes from drinking too much. In truth, he was a sorry sight, and he knew it. If only the world could stop spinning...

Scarlet exited the wreckage soon after her brother, watching as he lost his lunch in the once pristine fountain. Her dress mostly intact, but the hair that had been done up with such care now created a twisted tapestry around her face. Through her dilated pupils she saw her father, and even if his voice was booming in her head, she managed a weak smile.

"Happy birthday, Mother." She tried to give a curtsy, but ended up falling face-first into the swirling waters, splashing water all over her already soaked twin brother. When gauntleted hands retrieved her, she spit out a small fish, sending it flopping to the ground.

The lord of the estate watched his two eldest children with absolute disdain as the guards dragged them out of the fountain. His face was red like lava, moustache twitching and veins in his balding forehead pulsating as the rage surged through him.

"Is this your idea of a joke? I expected better, even from the two of you. You have ruined not only the festivities, but your own reputations and that of this family. Do you have anything to say in your defense?"

Roman tried to wipe his mouth with a sleeve, but the guards held onto his shoulders with surprising strength. Shrugging, he looked over at his father, even if his vision was swimming.

"Oh, stuff a sock in it... father..." He hiccuped. "You know what you... did. Banning me and Scarlet from... the party..." He felt like he might be sick again. "Just because we don't match your exact image, you... you're ashamed of us. We tried... really, tried. But nothing was ever good enough. And now you're surprised we are fuck-ups?" Roman laughed bitterly, gradually sobering up now that most of his stomach's contents were spread across the ground.

Scarlet barely remained standing, but she focused on her father as well. "Rabid dogs have more of a range within their leash!"

The crowd that had dispersed was now standing still like many of the statues that dotted the garden, unable to shield their eyes or ears. This was a true scandal, and none would ever forget this day.

When Anthon spoke again it was with a coldness that rivalled even the chillest of winter nights. "I have had enough. If you want to live like animals? Then so be it." He turned his attention to the guards. "Drag them back to their rooms, and give them fifteen minutes to pack. After that? Bring them to the city gates, and make sure they leave." He paused, closing his eyes for a few moment. "I am hereby exiling the both of you. Scarlet, Roman. You will go to the lighthouse at the south coast, and there you will stay. Perhaps you will come to learn how to actually be people, and not beasts driven by your desires." He turned around, walking towards the estate.

Roman felt his empty stomach drop. "Scarlet? Did... did father just say... exile?"

"I... I think he did." Scarlet paused, the situation slowly setting in. "Fuck."

Scarlet awoke to the crash of thunder outside the lighthouse, and she rolled out of the cot, down to the hard floor. Groaning, she slowly sat up while rubbing her nose. Now that she was back to consciousness, she could hear the howling winds outside the tower, battering against the stone. Stumbling to her feet, she walked over towards an old set of window-shutters, one of the few things in the lighthouse made out of metal. Opening them, she faced the raging sea, large waves illuminated by the occasional thunderbolt splitting the darkness. If it wasn't so terrifying, it might have possessed its own sense of beauty.

She looked over towards the cot where her brother was still sleeping and rolled her eyes. She walked up and kicked his side, eliciting a groan. "Wake up. We need to make sure this place doesn't crumble more than it already has."

Roman was slow in sitting up, rubbing his ribs where she had kicked him. "Why..." He paused, looking towards the opening in the wall. "Huh. Didn't know I was that heavy a sleeper."

"Of course you wouldn't know, little brother. Come on, we have work to do."

Roman didn't argue further and followed his sister back out into the tower proper. He was at least happy that even with the fierce storm out there that the lighthouse itself did not seem liable to fall down. Getting to work, they barricaded the front door at the very bottom, and once the middle-section was safe, they at last ascended the final stairwells.

Perched at the very top of the lighthouse, surrounded by glass panes to keep out the wind and rain, there it was. A large crystal, roughly the size of door, sat encased in a runed bronze contraption. Its light was dimmed since long ago, and the magical markings themselves seemed to have faded into the metal itself. Apart from the lighting crystal, the very pinnacle was sparsely populated. Two metal chairs sat facing the sea, and old containers lay scattered around. It was true desolation.

Roman sighed deeply. "Well, at least we won't have to do any of the work with this thing." He tapped the crystal with a knuckle. "Could be..." He paused.

The large crystal started to hum faintly, and the softest of light began to emanate from it as the runes sprang to life. For a few seconds, the entire space was lit like a dingy pub, but then the light faded once more.

Scarlet rolled her eyes. "Did you forget everything we were taught?" She reached for a glove, donning it before laying her hand on the crystal. "It feeds on energy, remember? You touching it with your hand must have awoken the enchantment within."

Roman shrugged and turned to face the sea again. "Whatever. Like I said, we're not here to keep the light on. There's a reason this place was abandoned, and it's not because the magic grew dull."

Scarlet rolled her eyes and looked out across the wild ocean. "Guess we're not getting any dinner from there today. All the same, we should see if there's any fishing equipment that's been discarded. We will need to feed ourselves somehow."

Roman blinked. "What, you don't think we'll get any provisions from the nearby villages?"

Scarlet gave him a look. "We're not here to actually do the job, like you said. What reason would people barely scraping by have to give two spoiled former nobles anything?"

"Guess you've got a point there." He sighed. "We're really in deep waters this time."

"Really? You're going to be glib even now?"

Roman shrugged. "Not like being all doom-and-gloom is going to help. Best make the best of the situation, and who knows? There might be shipwrecks down by the cliffs. We could check once the storm has passed."

Scarlet shook her head and turned to walk down the stairs again. "I doubt there's anything that scavengers have missed. All the same, can't be worse than staying inside the tower. For now though? Let's clean this place up. I do not want to risk going to sleep and having spiders crawl into my mouth."

Roman shivered at those words. "Do. Not. Bring. Spiders. Up. You are my sister, but I am not above retaliation if you were to plant one of those eight-legged monstrosities anywhere near me."

Scarlet chuckled, the sound echoing down the hewn stairwell. "Relax, I doubt they'd be sticking around here. Too windy. Come on, there should be a broom or two that's not entirely rotted away."

The cliffs that the lighthouse rested on were jagged and uneven, making any form of descent without a proper path potentially lethal. Thankfully, the previous inhabitants of this desolate place had seen fit to carve a way down towards the shoreline, probably to facilitate any survivors from shipwrecks. Even if no vessels had travelled by sea for decades now, it had been the main form of transport for centuries. God only knew how many lost sailors rested beneath the waves, bones stripped clean by the scavengers of the deep. Now, there was not a single sign of any human life here, at least on a first glance.