β’ Username: MotherMother
β’ Names: Alastair (short hair) and Anzu (long hair)
β’ Gender: male
---------Her paws trembled as she gently turned the kit to face her. It had two. She sobbed and held the kit to her thunderous heart. She kissed each forehead softly, and admired their delicate features. Both cried, but one face had the shyest hint of a smile, accepting his welcome into a fresh world. She whispered, "Alastair," and thus, he was born.
The other face scrunched up, painfully squinting against the bright light. He cried in agony, his parents suffering from broken hearts hearing his pleas. She calmly shushed him, but hesitated as she whispered, "Anzu."
Her mate stared at her, aghast.
" 'Anzu'?" He croaked, his throat dry from the name. "Why?"
She turned to him with one of her looks that exposed her uttermost confidence in the decision.
"You've cursed him!" He shrieked, "a life of evil! What have you done? Are you mad?"
She raised a hand to silence him. His lips sealed. He leaned down and scooped up the kit in his arms, gently bouncing him. His heart held reluctance, but he had felt it too; the deep certainty that this kit held something sinister in one of his heads.
In Ancient Greece, lived the protector of mankind. A defender of life, the moral compass of mortals. Alastair was the name, after which the kit's one head represented. She felt it in his soul, the meaning of his life.
Attached at the neck was another being, but this one nothing alike. Legend tells of Anzu the demon, half man and half bird. He was once the guard of Enlil, but when the god was bathing one day, Anzu stole the very thing he guarded and fled with the Tablet of Destinies, a source of limitless energy. Away into the mountain ranges the recluse hid, salivating over his treasure. Of one body but they were different souls; Anzu and Alastair. But they shared the same flesh, and could each control his own half to an extent. The only way they would survive is by cooperating. And they had no trouble with that, for their childhood at least.
Their differences became apparent as soon as they opened their eyes. Alastair's sparkled with hope, excited for what this world had to offer him.
Anzu's eyes were empty pools; they appeared lifeless and exhausted by memories he didn't have.
Despite this, they were happy with each other. They were one. A team. An unstoppable force ready to conquer the world.
But Alastair liked playing with dolls, role playing as every member of a family at the same time. He was already, in a way, playing his life as a two-souled being.
Anzu liked army men. First it was like a puzzle; strategizing the best formations and defenses.
Then it turned into attacks. Battles. Capturing prisoners of war. It grew violent...
And yet, they were still only toys. Bits of plastic. Harmless.
Before the kits were set off on their own way, their parents took them to a witch doctor. Bones rattled on a tall staff as she hobbled from her hut, a raven-like eye peering at the visitors. She motioned them forward, and the father held out Alastair and Anzu to the wise old witch doctor.
A bony hand warded them off. Even she, who handled all sorts of energies, good and evil, was not keen to touch this creature.
The father's heart twisted. The mother's face went pale. The witch doctor rambled deep into the depths of her hut, gathering medicines and herbs that she sprinkled on the kit's two heads. And the ritual began.
A quiet humming of her raspy voice danced with the twirling smoke of the fire. She grew louder, and the fire sparked and snapped with energy. Further she chanted, the fire burning with spitting embers, reaching for the two headed kit with it's long, glowing fingers. Her staff struck the ground and the fire ceased.
Nothing ever shocked her, but this time her mouth cracked open in a sharp intake of breath that she couldn't conceal.
"I... see..." she croaked, lost in her vision. Her body was skin sagging off bones, but now she looked even more empty, as if her very soul had wandered away into the vision.
"Ravens. Fire. Howling."
"H-howling?" The father whimpered, knowing what this meant.
She recognized his realization. "Ah, you know. Hell hounds." Her eyes opened and she turned to the mother. "Destroy it at once."
"NO!" She broke out with a cry.
The doctor glared at her with certainty. "You must," she said, her raspy voice growing more intense with the severity of the situation. "He must not walk this earth!" She rattled her staff, and pounded it into the soil. The fire faltered.
The parents drew up their hoods and slunk into the night, the two headed kit in their arms.
"Anz?" Alastair whispered, one dark night in the crickety old barn.
Anzu opened his eyes, and glanced to the other head.
"Do you... do you know why momma and papa left us?" He whispered, seeking comfort. It had been only a few years since they were abandoned, too young to understand what was good for them.
Anzu shrugged. "They didn't love us. Did you expect them to?"
His words cut through Alastair's heart and he bit back his trembling lip. "That's not true," he whimpered. "If they didn't love us, why did momma sing to us every night? And why did papa rub our back when we were sick?"
Anzu growled. "Think what you want, but in the end they left us."
Alastair squinted, tears blurring his vision. He loved his family very much, and didn't like it when Anzu criticized them. He opened his mouth to refute, but took a deep breath and decided to drop the issue. He scrunched up the blanket in his paws and fidgeted with it, watching his brother close his eyes and drift into sleep. How could he be comfortable enough to sleep after such a heavy statement?
After a while, Alastair began to feel tired. Though hurt, he loved everyone in his family, including Anzu. And at this point he was all he had. He closed his eyes and managed to fall asleep to the sound of Anzu's breathing.
"Mmf. A little longer?" Anzu groaned, groggy and sore. His eyelids were weighed down by exhaustion. He was not a morning person.
"But we'll miss the bazaar! Come on, I want to see all the people!" Alastair grinned.
If he could, Anzu would stay inside the dingy barn forever. It was dark, quiet, and abandoned. Just like him.
Despite their differences, the two shared many qualities, one being determination. Knowing his brother wouldn't give up and trying to go against something that requires cooperation was futile, they exited the decaying wood structure and headed into the heart of the village.
As they ventured through the cobblestone streets, Alastair's eyes were always gazing in awe at all the happy faces and families. Kits joyously pulling their parents to the bakery, butchers throwing scraps to stray dogs. Alastair couldn't help but snoop a bit, and peered into the windows of houses they passed by. In one building, he saw a grey and white face with long, flowing hair. Their sea green eyes seemed strikingly familiar, yet there was no denying that he could not solidly recognize his own brother.
The bazaar was fantastic. Kalons buzzed around, showing off their best goods, villagers complimenting their hard work and asking for their secrets, which the sellers modestly declined revealing. Alastair grinned ear to ear, his nose delighted in the beautiful scents of treats that tempted him closer to one stand.
"May I help you boys?" The baker said, his smile soft and genuine.
Alastair pointed to an especially deliciously appearing snack that had a smear of chocolate atop and short bread cookie, his favourite treat. He flickered a glance to Anzu, who was never happy to spend what little money they had. But they always had a budget, and each got to spend a few coins each day. If this was what Alastair wanted to use them on, let him.
Alastair handed the baker a few cents, and he was handed the cookie. The baker smiled, this was his passion and he loved to make Kalons, especially kits, happy. As they turned away to browse other stands, the baker called them back. Bowing low to become eye-level with the kits, he handed a second cookie to Anzu. "Here you go, son. You two have a good day now, alright?"
Alastair squealed with joy. Anzu accepted the cookie with little more than a small smile. "Thank you, sir!" They said in unison. He chuckled and waved them goodbye as they moved along, and he shifted his attention to a mother who approached the stand, looking to buy some bread.
It was nightfall when they returned to the barn. Alastair's cookie had been long since eaten, but Anzu turned his over in his fingers, hesitating to accept the gesture of kindness.
It tempted Alastair. "Are you going to eat that?" He asked hopefully, in his soft voice.
Anzu nodded. His stomach growled and he munched on the cookie.
Alastair watched him, noticing how Anzu didn't savour every last bite like he did. Anzu just ate it so that he had something to fill his stomach. He seemed so void of emotion, so empty. Alastair struggled to wrap his brain around how anyone could be so unimpressed with life. He couldn't find an answer so he closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep.
Anzu continued to eat the cookie. An innocent action, but he kept crunching, and in the silence of the night Alastair felt like it was too loud.
His stomach growled. They could never afford much food anyway, and to have to lay there while his brother ate his favourite snack without even appreciating the delicacy... it was frustrating.
Crunch... crunch... crunch...Echoing in his brain
Crunch... crunch... crunch..Alastair tried to block it out
Crunch... crunch... crunch..It boomed inside, resonating and shaking his soul. He whipped around. "Will you stop that?"
Anzu paused. He had never seen Alastair angry. He couldn't hide his smirk.
This set him off. "What's wrong with you?" Alastair spat. "Why are you happy when I am not? Why are you always so horrible? You're negative all the time and can't care less about anyone else!"
"Aww, is my lil' bro upset he can't have my cookie-wookie?" Anzu mocked.
Alastair bristled. "It's not about that! I've noticed this for a while now... you always bring me down. The only time I see you smile is in mockery." Alastair's lips trembled, it hurt to say these words.
Anzu narrowed his eyes and stared into Alastair's, saying nothing for a long while. Suddenly, his eyes glinted with a sudden sharpness and he said, "Atleast I am living in the real world."
Alastair turned away in a huff, swarmed with emotions. He hated that he said those things about Anzu, and felt guilty for it. Yet, he felt something prick his heart, something he had never felt before. A twinge of resentment. He squeezed his eyes shut and hoped the buzzing thoughts would just go away. He gripped the blanket in his paws and tucked them all the way up to his chin, and tried to hum a song in his head that his mom used to sing to lull them to sleep. His body was frozen, yet his mind raced on. It zigzagged, flipped, and cartwheeled through a plethora of emotions and questions in pursuit of a conclusion. He could not find one.
He spared a glance to Anzu, whose eyelids fluttered softly with dreams. His breathing was deep and steady.
Normally, seeing his brother peacefully in sleep comforted him. But this time, it only carved a deeper understanding of the emptiness Anzu hosted. While Alastair's injured heart could not slow down to a rhythmic beat, Anzu had no trouble at all slipping away into dreamland. He wondered what was going through his head. Or perhaps more importantly, what wasn't.
"What did you dream about last night?" Alastair asked over their breakfast of stale bread and margarine.
Anzu shrugged a shoulder. "I'm not really sure. There was blackness, red streaks, dark figures enticing me towards them..." Anzu's eyes glazed over and he seemed to be lost in a vision. His words jumbled into mumbling that Alastair couldn't decode, but he let Anzu carry on anyway because he liked the sound of his voice.
"So a nightmare then?" Alastair said, breaking his trance.
"Huh?" Anzu looked at him. "A nightmare? Oh, no... I don't really get those."
Alastair cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean?"
Anzu took a bite of his toast. "Well, nightmares are supposed to be scary, right? I don't get scared. I actually like them. They're so entertaining, not like other dreams I sometimes get of wandering the bazaar. Those are so boring."
Alastair couldn't help but feel a bit nauseous. He swayed, and Anzu asked if he was alright. He nodded.
"So where are we going today?" Alastair asked. It was only fair that Anzu could choose, seeing as they had followed Alastair's wishes yesterday.
Anzu said, "Let's head to the centre. I think we can find some second-hand clothes for cheap, and we need to replace these old rags."
And so they disappeared into the flow of Kalons wandering about the village. Along the way, Alastair gasped and pointed.
"Anzu, look! A kitten!" He bent to pick it up. Anzu yanked them away.
Alastair whined, "can't we take him home?"
"We wouldn't be able to feed him. He's better off with his momma, he probably has one. Besides, he could be diseased."
Alastair retracted his open hand. "You're right," he sighed. "Run along now, baby cat! Your momma is probably looking for you." He waved the kitten goodbye and they continued on their way.
Unbeknownst to the brothers, this was one of the many decisions they had to go through in their singlular life.
Life is filled with choices. With two heads and two souls, each differing opinion battles the other to do what is necessary.
It wasn't long before they returned to the bazaar again. They did so for many years, every Saturday and Alastair never forgot to give a wave to the baker. More and more often, they noticed a young Kalon at his side, learning how to sell the goods. She was about their age, and Alastair enjoyed chatting with her as long as he could before Anzu sighed and groaned. He wouldn't admit it when Anzu teased him for fancying her, but he always blushed to think about it.
A friendship blossomed and while Anzu was more there because he had to rather than by choice, the baker's daughter enjoyed his company nonetheless. Juniper was her name, a striking, vibrant young lady with gorgeous locks of hair she twirled around her finger. They talked about their life goals and future plans, and she mentioned she wanted to become a crew member for countless deep sea voyages via submarine. Alastair jumped for joy at this news, because he and Anzu shared a passion for welding, which connected them to the craftsmanship of the submarine.
One day, at their usual stop by the baker's booth, they were both surprised to see the baker alone. The proud father explained Juniper had in fact followed her dreams and was part of the crew on a small local submarine. They celebrated with some sugar cookies, and the baker wished them well.
Juniper wasn't the only one to accomplish their life goal. Over the course of some gruelling years training and building up their business, Alastair and Anzu became the top welders in the whole province.
Alastair asked the baker one day how Juniper was doing. He boasted that she's succeeded in countless missions and was now a crucial part of the famous Rosa II, a prized craft that everyone knew about.
One night, as the stars crept up into the sky, they sat on a polished wood chair. They lived in a cozy home, away from the scrappy old barn they had grown up in. They had made quite the living for themselves.
Anzu, who handled the business aspect of the job, tiled a paper towards Alastair.
"Hey Al? I think you want to see this." He smiled.
Alastair looked up and lowered the magnifying glass he had looked through to screw in tiny, delicate pieces of a printing press's mechanism. His face lit up with joy as he read out, " 'Rosa II'? That's Juniper's craft!"
"Yes," Anzu grinned, patting his brother's shoulder. "The captain has ordered major repairs, and the job is all ours."
It felt good to be working on Juniper's happiest thing in life. It made Alastair feel so much closer to her. It also presented the opportunity to talk again, and meet up when they had time.
The progress had gone very well, and Alastair triple-checked every piece to make sure it was perfect. Eventually, the project was winding down to an end. But soon arose a problem. The Rosa II was set to go off in a matter of days, but it was unfinished and they had no more bolts in stock to finish the job.
Anzu dialed the number of Mr. Scane, the manufacturer who sent them all the parts they needed. He chewed his nails as Mr. Scane explained it was too last-minute and he was too swamped with orders to get them bolts.
"Ehh. It will be hard for me to do."
"Please?" Anzu asked, knowing that without the bolts they couldn't finish their work.
A pause on the other line.
"Mr. Scane?" Anzu whispered.
A sigh.
"Alright. I'll do it. But don't be asking me for any more favours, got it?"
"Yes, yes! Thank you Mr. Scane! Thank you!" Alastair sighed in relief.
The line cut off and they both slumped their shoulders and smiled. The submarine was finished in time.
Standing at the workbench, Alastair plunged a paw into the box of bolts Mr. Scane had managed to deliver last minute. Alastair hummed as he screwed in a bolt to the toy car, attaching its final wheel to the body. He grinned.
"Do you think she will like it?" He asked.
Anzu gave a passive smile and nodded.
Alastair beamed, and turned it over in his paws, admiring it from all angles. Though the Juniper was well past childish toys, he hoped she would appreciate the craftsmanship of the toy. He felt it represented a piece of himself, because crafting and welding was his specialty. He placed it on the table and pushed it forward, eager to watch it glide smoothly.
As soon as it left his fingers, the wheels wobbled and fell off.
Alastair's heart clenched.
Had he not screwed them in tight enough? He examined the toy, and put the bolts back in. A second test drive left the car without any wheels again. Alastair had one skill he was proud of. He was a master in his art, not an amateur. The wheels shouldn't have fallen off.
He reattached the wheels with new bolts from the same box. Again, identical results.
He snatched the car up. "A-Anzu?" He asked, eyes wide.
Anzu had seen it. He looked at the car. Then he eyed the box of bolts. They both whipped their heads round to stare at each other in dismay.
"Could it be?" Alastair choked.
Anzu grabbed a handful of bolts and unscrewed the existing ones on the wing panel he had been working on. He screwed in the new bolts and gave the wing a tap. It crumbled apart, sheets of metal clattering on the floor.
"No... it can't be!" Anzu gasped.
Alastair cried out in agony at the realization of the situation. In the rush to pump out escess bolts, Mr. Scane must have made an error in the manufacturing of the bolts. As Anzu's mind raced, Alastair threw bolts everywhere, trying each one on parts that worked before but now failed with the new bolts.
"Oh my god." Said Anzu.
"The submarine! Oh god, none of the bolts will work! It will collapse under the water pressure when they get too deep to swim to the surface!"
They scrambled to the telephone. Alastair lifted it off the receiver, but Anzu slammed it down.
"Wha-?" Alastair asked in shock.
"We can't tell anybody!" Anzu hissed. "We... we have to keep it secret!"
"Are you crazy?" Alastair scoffed, aghast at his brother's words.
"No one will partner up with our business anymore!" Anzu grimaced.
After hesitation, Alastair shouted, "fine, whatever! But we have to tell the submarine crew!"
"With what?" Anzu said, shaking his head. "They don't use phones, remember? They don't have any because they don't work that deep underwater where they live most of the time!"
Anzu stumbled over his words, "we have to tell them!" And gripped the phone, wanting to call somebody, anybody, and fix what they had done.
"Listen to me!" Anzu yelled. "They're gone, okay? Nothing we can do about it now!"
"But we can! We... we can jump on the next train! Follow them there, and track them down from the station!" Alastair cried in desperation.
"Do you even hear yourself? It'd be impossible to find out where each bolt went! Just let it go--"
"NO!" Alastair sobbed, angry tears streaming down his cheeks. "We did this, and now we have to fix it!"
"Calm down, brother!" Anzu grasped the paw on Alastair's side. "Calm down. Shhhh. Shhhh." He cooed, as Alastair's heaving breaths deepened and slowed.
"Al," Anzu said softly, trying to be as comforting as he could manage. "It's not our fault. It was a manufacturing issue. The... the factory sent faulty bolts."
But they both knew that wasn't entirely true. They could stop it if they wanted to. Save the crew.
"Alastair. We've made a good living for ourself. You're not going to throw that away, are you?"
Alastair closed his eyes.
Anzu continued, "think of all the people we've helped. Hundreds of Kalons have dived deeper than ever thought possible because of us! Children have grown up and followed their dreams! We have helped science grow and advance!"
Alastair retched at the thought of what they'd done.
Anzu ignored it. "Our hands are tied. How far can we go? What more could we have done? A bad bolt is a bad bolt. Even the greatest mechanic in the world can't deal with that and get it to work. Make a cake out of dirt, and it will still taste like crap."
Alastair rubbed his eyes. "You're right." He sighed, struggling to breath. "There's nothing we can do. It was a manufacturing error."
Anzu smiled softly. "That's right, brother. It's a tragedy but not ours to take the blame for."
That night, Alastair didn't expect sleep. Anzu, however, managed to drift away into dreamland, or at least pretended to.
Alastair hadn't realized he too slipped away.
Alastair was floating outside the submarine, observing its journey. He admired the fish that glided through the water, silence ringing in his ears. He saw the sun's rays pierce the water and dance with the waves. Then, he saw a Kalon. He recognized her.
It was the baker's daughter.
Her hair billowed softly in the waves. She floated effortlessly, twirling forever in the currents. Slowly, she turned and stared at him. Her eyes narrowed. She raised a slender arm with her index finger extended, pointing accusingly at Alastair. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, and a flurry of bubbles rushed out; her last breath. The bubbles twisted in fury, spiralling towards Alastair, and swallowing him whole. In the blizzard of bubbles he didn't feel the seaweed brush against his leg again. It wrapped around him and yanked. Her last breath had avenged her, disguising the tangle of seaweed long enough for it to trap its enemy. Alastair tried desperately to rip himself free, but it held tight. Agonizing pain tore through his chest as his lungs screamed more air. Like the submarine that went down, down, down. Swelling with water up to it's very top. He watched it lurch, the metal groaning as if it were suffocating too. And down they both went, pulled into the deep void below."No, no! It's not right!" Alastair cried, sitting up in bed, sweaty and scared.
"What's wrong?" Anzu huffed, rubbing his eyes.
"I had a nightmare!"
Anzu rolled his eyes. He never really got nightmares, so he didn't know what it was like. "Just go back to bed." He grunted.
Alastair opened his mouth to refute but decided not to. He laid his head down on the clunky pillow and tried to shut out his thoughts.
The next morning couldn't have come soon enough. He hadn't caught a wink of sleep, so Alastair's eyes were dark and groggy. They set off into the city.
A gust of wind pushed a flurry of newspapers in their path. The headline was unmistakeable, and the words boomed out in urgency.
SUBMARINE ROSA II SINKS, NO SURVIVORS
All four eyes saw it. Anzu yanked themself away, demanding Alastair not to look. He put his head down and marched forward.
But Alastair's gaze counldn't help but be pulled to the bold letters. He reached out a paw, breathless and weak.
Being the stronger-minded, Anzu tugged him along, away from the horror of their secret.
More fliers were strewn across the city. It was the biggest story the writers had seen in a while. Alastair reached down to pick something up, and Anzu gave him a stern look. Dodging the newspaper, Alastair grasped a coffee cup instead, picking up litter and tossing it in the trash.
That night, Alastair waited until Anzu fell asleep. Then, as quietly as he could, he pulled out a folded page from the newspaper he had crammed in his pocket when Anzu wasn't looking. Silently, he unfolded the page and began to read.
A shocking turn of events when last night the famous Rosa II sunk below sea level and never came back. On a heroic expedition led by Captain Douglas Smith and his right-hand Juniper Huckleberry, the seemingly industructible craft collapsed under the weight of the ocean's glory when it sunk to 200 meters below. Rescue teams have been sent to the location to recover remains for families, as it seems clear that nobody could have came out alive.
So far the dog tags of Timothy Erickson, Jackson Phillis, and Juniper Huckleberry have been found. The tags which should be tied around their necks indicated the loss of their lives...
He tried to read more, but it was all a blur. He struggled to keep his sobs quiet. Anzu awoke.
When he saw the page in his hands, he knew what was going on and he wasn't surprised.
"Anzu," Alastair burst out, unable to keep it in. He heaved for breaths and felt like the universe around him spun and spun, like nothing was real and nothing was worth it.
Anzu embraced his brother, wrapping his arm around their body.
"It will be okay. We made the right choice."
Alastair's heart ached in pain.
Deep, deep, deep inside, Anzu grinned. Their reputation was safe. No one would know, and they'd get richer every day.
"It will all be okay."
Choices, choices
So many choices
One is always better for others, the other is better for oneself
Live with greed, die with guilt
What to choose, what to choose
Two heads
Two souls
One body
One choice
