A Tale of Two Brothers
Two sons had been born to King Siarth of Estira. The older of the brothers was Kishay. He was of gentle heart and good nature, with an extensive love for everything that grew. A soft spoken and considerate person, Kishay was to become a wise and benevolent ruler leading his people into a long and prosperous peace his father had established at great cost.
His younger brother was Ishra, who was the fire to Kishay’s calm nature. He loved playing catch with the beasts of the forest, running through the woods and hiding for hours with no one being able to find him. He was loud and outspoken, the complete opposite to Kishay in virtually every way.
But the two brothers loved each other very dearly and spent a lot of time playing together until one day King Siarth decided the time had come for Kishay to prepare for his duties as the future King. From then on Kishay was surrounded by instructors and teachers at all times and, to ensure he would focus on his studies without distraction, his father locked him up in the palace.
King Siarth you see, was a bitter man. War had worn him down and he was eager to pass on his title to his heir.
Being locked in the palace, in fact it was a single room he was confined to for most of the time, except for meals and weapon training, Kishay grew sad and distant.
His brother, on the other hand, spent most of his time outside, learning how to ride horses and hunt deer and it is said that his favourite company was that of the wild beasts. He grew tall and strong in stature and wrestled with the beasts’ young to measure his strength with them. His wild and carefree nature was adored among the people in the royal city and often they would call: “Look, look, there he rides, the King’s son who keeps the beasts at bay!”
And it was his strength and the people’s love for him that corrupted Ishra’s heart and made dark, greedy thoughts blossom in his mind. He grew to think that he would be much better suited for the throne. His brother was only ever in his chamber studying, he was weak and most of his people had never actually seen their future King.
This was the thought that would lead to the royal family’s doom, for Ishra asked Kishay to a play fight in good friendship, but his intentions were a lot more sinister.
Kishay, missing the carefree days of his childhood, agreed, but he was not ready for what was to come.
They met for their sparing in one of the palace’s courtyards. Kishay was carrying the sword passed along from ruler to ruler, a strong blade that had seen many a battle.
Ishra in turn was carrying his own sword, one he’d had made for himself with the handle out of the horn of a forest beast. But seeing Kishay with the royal heirloom enraged Ishra and he charged towards Kishay without warning. Kishay barely had time to parry when Ishra began hacking away at his brother’s defence. But in a cruel twist of fate Ishra’s blade suddenly slid off Kishay’s and all the force of Kishay’s sword parrying the hits of his younger brother, had nothing to stop it anymore and the royal blade bored itself into Ishra’s chest. Ishra sank to the ground, losing conscious and Kishay knelt beside him, horrified of what he had done. He cradled his brother in his arms and cried for help, but once his pleas were heard and help had arrived, it was too late. Ishra’s pride and wild temper had brought about his doom.
King Siarth was stricken with grief when he heard of his son’s death. But his grief was overshadowed by hot, raging fury towards his other son and even though Kishay had acted in self-defence, the King disowned his remaining son and banished him from the woodland realm, cursing him to carry the sword that had killed his brother with him.
Kishay had no choice but to obey. He packed no more than what was necessary and clad in black, for he mourned his brother’s death, he began his aimless journey, taking course north-west. Some say he still wanders out there, others say he died, but what truly became of him remains a mystery.”
His younger brother was Ishra, who was the fire to Kishay’s calm nature. He loved playing catch with the beasts of the forest, running through the woods and hiding for hours with no one being able to find him. He was loud and outspoken, the complete opposite to Kishay in virtually every way.
But the two brothers loved each other very dearly and spent a lot of time playing together until one day King Siarth decided the time had come for Kishay to prepare for his duties as the future King. From then on Kishay was surrounded by instructors and teachers at all times and, to ensure he would focus on his studies without distraction, his father locked him up in the palace.
King Siarth you see, was a bitter man. War had worn him down and he was eager to pass on his title to his heir.
Being locked in the palace, in fact it was a single room he was confined to for most of the time, except for meals and weapon training, Kishay grew sad and distant.
His brother, on the other hand, spent most of his time outside, learning how to ride horses and hunt deer and it is said that his favourite company was that of the wild beasts. He grew tall and strong in stature and wrestled with the beasts’ young to measure his strength with them. His wild and carefree nature was adored among the people in the royal city and often they would call: “Look, look, there he rides, the King’s son who keeps the beasts at bay!”
And it was his strength and the people’s love for him that corrupted Ishra’s heart and made dark, greedy thoughts blossom in his mind. He grew to think that he would be much better suited for the throne. His brother was only ever in his chamber studying, he was weak and most of his people had never actually seen their future King.
This was the thought that would lead to the royal family’s doom, for Ishra asked Kishay to a play fight in good friendship, but his intentions were a lot more sinister.
Kishay, missing the carefree days of his childhood, agreed, but he was not ready for what was to come.
They met for their sparing in one of the palace’s courtyards. Kishay was carrying the sword passed along from ruler to ruler, a strong blade that had seen many a battle.
Ishra in turn was carrying his own sword, one he’d had made for himself with the handle out of the horn of a forest beast. But seeing Kishay with the royal heirloom enraged Ishra and he charged towards Kishay without warning. Kishay barely had time to parry when Ishra began hacking away at his brother’s defence. But in a cruel twist of fate Ishra’s blade suddenly slid off Kishay’s and all the force of Kishay’s sword parrying the hits of his younger brother, had nothing to stop it anymore and the royal blade bored itself into Ishra’s chest. Ishra sank to the ground, losing conscious and Kishay knelt beside him, horrified of what he had done. He cradled his brother in his arms and cried for help, but once his pleas were heard and help had arrived, it was too late. Ishra’s pride and wild temper had brought about his doom.
King Siarth was stricken with grief when he heard of his son’s death. But his grief was overshadowed by hot, raging fury towards his other son and even though Kishay had acted in self-defence, the King disowned his remaining son and banished him from the woodland realm, cursing him to carry the sword that had killed his brother with him.
Kishay had no choice but to obey. He packed no more than what was necessary and clad in black, for he mourned his brother’s death, he began his aimless journey, taking course north-west. Some say he still wanders out there, others say he died, but what truly became of him remains a mystery.”
This is the version of Kishay's story Auun tells at The Twelve Nightingales. It takes a much more empathetic angle towards Kishay than the poem he performed in The Wailing Harp. Of course this version is also not, or at least not entirely, what happened and has some made up elements in it.
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