The inevitable of course happened as his brother wrenched himself out of his grasp. Helotes looked upon him, trying desperately to conceal the hurt in his eyes; he knew just how Columbine would react now. All hope had left Helotes’ heart, and he felt that he would mourn the loss of Columbine as if he had died. He so missed his brother, how he used to be, but that Columbine was gone now, dead long ago.
Columbine’s vicious words were nothing more than echoes against Helotes’ bleeding soul, and he started that the dark Hastati with blank eyes. It was as if he was watching this whole charade from the sidelines, as if it were some twisted dream. And what made this whole thing worse, was that Helotes knew that he would not wake up, and that there was no one he could truly turn to for comfort.
After Columbine’s mocking display was over, Helotes continued to look upon him for a moment longer, before simply turning and walking away. He would not give the creature a moment longer of his time, a shred more of decency; Columbine must became nothing to him, and Helotes heart must be turned to stone when it came to his older brother. Still, as he walked further and further away until what once was his brother disappeared into the dusk behind him, he could feel the hot sting of tears in his umber eyes.
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