Wanting only to protect Acheron, Styxx launched himself from the floor and grabbed it out of Acheron’s hand.
Acheron offered him a small smile of gratitude before he was taken away.
“You!” Ryssa sneered as she glared at the toy he held. “You’re so selfish. You never think of anyone but yourself. What would it have hurt to let him keep one toy? Huh?” She gestured to the others scattered on the ground. “Nothing’s ever enough for you, is it? You always want more and you don’t care who you take it from.”
She jerked the toy from his hand, cutting his palm in the process, and stormed from his room.
Heartbroken, Styxx stood alone. He hated being by himself with a passion that made no sense. Ofttimes, he wondered if it came from being born a twin. Surely the gods wouldn’t have given him a brother if they meant for him to be forever by himself.
And yet, he spent very much of his life alone.
Sighing wistfully, Styxx glanced around the room that was littered with toys. He would gladly give them all away if he could only have one person to play with. Ryssa refused because she didn’t like him and he was a smelly boy, and, according to her, he was too stupid to follow the games she played with Acheron. The other children ran away from him because their parents were afraid they might hurt him, either by accident or on purpose, and incur his father’s wrath.
Acheron was the only one who welcomed him as a playmate. But their father demanded they stay separated.
Styxx looked down at his brother’s toy and wished with everything he had that it was different for them both. Rather they’d been born poor farmers than have to endure the burden of this wretched family and its meanness.
He set the toy aside. Later, after everyone was asleep, he’d return it to his brother.
*
“Acheron?” Styxx whispered, nudging his sleeping brother awake.
Slowly, Acheron blinked his eyes open. Rubbing them with his fist, Acheron sat up in bed. Styxx shoved the loaf of sweet bread in his face, making Acheron smile the moment he saw it.
“I didn’t bring the honey, sorry. But…” Styxx opened his small cloth bag to show the sugared figs he’d taken. “I managed to pilfer your favorite.”
Acheron’s silver eyes lit up. “Thank you! But you shouldn’t have. You could have been caught.”
Styxx shrugged. “I wouldn’t have been hurt over this.” At least not physically—those beatings were reserved for other offenses. Though there were times when he’d prefer being hit to listening to them call him worthless or other names.
Glad he’d helped his brother, Styxx watched as Acheron tore into the bread. Since they’d sent them both to bed with no supper, Acheron was starving. But as usual, Styxx had been unable to sleep and so once the palace quieted down, he’d snuck to the pantry.
“What did you eat?” Acheron asked.
“Bread . . . with your honey.” He grinned wide with his guilt.
Acheron laughed. “That was wrong of you.”
Styxx indicated the small bag. “I thought you’d rather have the figs.”
“You could have given me the choice.”
“And I would have, had my belly not been cramping. It smelled so good, I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to eat some on my way here. Sorry.”
“Then I shall forgive you.” Acheron held the bread out. “Would you like more?”
He shook his head, declining it. Even though he was still hungry, he knew Acheron was even more so.
Frowning while he ate, Acheron cocked his head. “Can you not sleep again?”
“I tried.” Morpheus held a grudge against him for reasons only the gods knew. No matter how hard Styxx tried, sleep forever eluded him.
Acheron scooted back on his pallet, making more room.
Grateful beyond measure, Styxx accepted his unspoken invitation and lay down by Acheron’s side.
Within a few minutes, he was sound asleep. Acheron finished his food then tucked the bag into Styxx’s chiton. Licking the last of the sugar from his fingers, he curled up behind Styxx, back to back, and placed the bottoms of his feet flush to his brother’s. As far back as he could remember they had slept like this whenever they could. Neither of them liked to be alone or apart, and yet their family seemed determined for them to be so. It was something neither of them understood.
How they both wished they could be left alone together.
And Styxx was the one he loved best.
His brother was the only one who treated him like he was normal. Styxx didn’t hate him like their parents did, nor dote on him like he was a god incarnate as Ryssa was prone to do.
They were brothers. They played. They laughed. And they fought for everything they were worth. But whenever the fighting was done, they would dust off and be friends again.