The silence between them was louder than any war drum.
They had made camp in the ruins of an old cathedral, its stained-glass windows shattered and floors slick with moss and moonlight. The air was cold — not just from the approaching storm, but from the tension that clung to them like a second skin.
Lucien sat on the altar steps, hunched over, picking at his fingers. Cain leaned against a broken pillar, arms crossed, jaw locked. Ayden sat farther off, feet dangling from a cracked window ledge, staring into the dark horizon.
No one spoke.
Not at first.
Until Cain broke the silence with that familiar sharpness in his voice. "You never take anything seriously, Lucien."
Lucien didn't look up. "And you never stop acting like the weight of the world is yours alone."
That did it.
Cain pushed off the pillar and stormed toward him. "Because it is! If I don't take charge, who will? You? Ayden?"
Ayden's voice cracked through the room. "Don't pull me into this."
But Cain turned on him. "You hide behind jokes and lightning bolts, but you never step up when it matters. Neither of you do."
Lucien finally stood, anger igniting in his eyes. "That's not fair. We've all bled for this mission, for each other! You don't get to act like you're the only one hurting."
Cain's voice was low, dangerous. "I watched our mother die. You think I forgot what it felt like? You think I don't replay that night every time I close my eyes?"
Lucien's hands trembled. "We all lost her, Cain. But you built a wall instead of grieving. You push us away when we're the ones who need you."
"I don't have the luxury of being weak!" Cain shouted.
"You're not weak for needing people!" Lucien fired back, voice cracking. "You're not weak for being scared, Cain. You're just human. We all are."
Ayden stood now, eyes glassy. "I hate this. I hate fighting with you guys. We're brothers, dammit. We're the only family we've got left."
Cain's shoulders tensed.
Lucien stepped closer. "We're not kids anymore, but that doesn't mean we have to stop being brothers. I miss you, man. I miss us."
The storm outside broke just then — thunder crashing as if the sky had been listening, aching right along with them.
Cain looked at Lucien, really looked at him — saw the pain in his eyes, the weariness behind his grin.
And then he turned to Ayden, who stood there, fists clenched, blinking too fast to keep the tears back.
Cain's voice was soft. "I'm sorry."
Lucien's breath hitched. "Me too."
Ayden sniffled. "You both suck."
Cain reached out first — a hesitant hand on Lucien's shoulder. Lucien pulled him into a rough hug, and Ayden joined, nearly tackling both of them.
They held on.
Not just to each other.
But to the promise that no matter how chaotic or cursed the world became, this bond — this brotherhood — was unbreakable.
They didn't need magic to stay strong.
They just needed each other.
Later That Night
The fire crackled in the middle of the ruined cathedral, the boys huddled close. No more yelling. Just the comfort of shared silence and bad jokes.
Lucien nudged Cain. "You know, if we die tomorrow, I'm blaming you for not hugging me enough in childhood."
Cain rolled his eyes but smiled. "You were clingy."
"I was emotionally advanced," Lucien corrected.
Ayden yawned. "You were a menace."
Lucien grinned. "Still am."
Cain laughed — not just a small breath through the nose, but a real, unguarded laugh.
Ayden stared at the sky through the broken roof. "We're gonna be okay, right?"
Lucien nodded. "As long as we've got each other."
And in that moment — under the shattered heavens, in a ruined church with hope rising from the ashes — they were whole again.