Worry Not, or, Panic Not

I was reading a chapter in The Ballad of Kish and Layla when my brother, Del, appeared before me. I had anticipated this, for I was notified of his presence when he first landed on New Beringia the day before. My lance and I were enjoying a brief respite within an industrial park on the snowy, windswept world, warmed by the burning fuel tanks. His footsteps in the slush took hold of my attention, but my eyes did not look up to meet him, for I was reading the section of the work where Kish and Layla profess their love to each other in the damp early morning, on the eve of the former’s great battle. This classic epic stole my imagination at an early age, lighting the fire in my heart to explore the universe, visit new worlds, and be a great warrior.
“Ah, Kai!” said Del. “What fortune we have, us crossing paths!” He, like myself, wore the red armor of a major.
“Or is it you stepping into my path, hmm?” I asked.
“Ah, be not such a contemplative thinker. How is your health?”
“Perfectly fine. Yours?”
“As good as can be.”
I glanced at Mik, whom I noticed to slowly shuffle away from Del and I, and the rest of the lance follow suit. Basab, Krum, and Krul, our Unggoy, Tes, our Kig-Yar, and Xizzar ‘Elamee, our minor, and his brother Othar, were also a part of our lance. From Mik, they drank the font of knowledge and had insight into my relationship with my family. Admittedly, my time on New Beringia also found myself more vocal of my strained relationship with my elder siblings than on previous worlds. I suspect the harsh and particularly cold climate eroded some of my patience and emotional fortitude, thus enticing me to complain more openly about my past grievances.
And now, one of those grievances found itself before me.
“What are you reading?” Del asked.
“The Ballad of Kish and Layla,” I replied.
“That old story again? Heh, you still read it?”
“Indeed.”
“I would have thought your tastes would… evolve.”
“…I am sorry?”
“But of course all know that Kish and Layla are for the… the younger generations. Two coming-of-age warriors in a romance, going off to do battle on distant worlds? A classic for those about to grow into men of their own.”
“I still find much enjoyment in it after all these years.”
“Come now, Kai. Can you not bring yourself to enjoy something such as… oh… The Heart’s Desire?” Now, that was a novel with more subtlety in its words, which can be interpreted either allegorically, spiritually, or erotically.
“Ah, I care not for that work,” I said.
“Oh, can your juvenile tastes not grow and develop? Although, what with all of your childling period spent moping about, I suppose that you are just a late bloomer.”
“Perhaps if I did not have a brother who acted more like a bully, I would have enjoyed my childling period before it slipped away.”
“Excuse me?”
I looked to Mik, not evening gazing upon my brother. “And now he is deaf! Wonderful…” My brother moved quickly, slapping the pad upon which the story I was reading resided away from my hands. It fell onto the slush. I quickly shot up out of my seat on the curb, while my lance, who was on my right, shuffled away some more. Del and I locked eyes. “I was reading that.”
“You will respect me as the elder brother,” growled Del.
“Respect is a two-way path, and you have never strode down it.”
“Ooh…” uttered Mik.
“It is getting good now,” quietly said Othar.
“Hush!” admonished Xizzar to his brother.
“Hold your tongue, little one.”
“Or what? You will strike me? Use your oh-so-storied strength against me? What is that, other than fleeting? In reality, you have nothing – nothing! – to threaten me with. Such is the reality of any common ruffian.”
It was at this time that he struck me. Admittedly I did not expect this, but now that we leaped off the precipice together, we might as well hit the ground. I recoiled to the right, and then used the momentum to turn around and deliver a swift, strong backhand blow. Then, a grapple ensued between him and me. We fell onto the cold, wet ground, with Del on top of me, delivering blows to my face. I used a maneuver with a kick to regain the upper hand, and thereupon I straddled my brother, and I delivered my own series of attacks on him.
“Alright, break ‘em up, break ‘em up!” ordered Mik. The clash was quelled quickly by friend, who pulled me away from my opponent, and Xizzar and Othar, who kept Del at bay.
“What is this?!” said a booming voice. It was our commander, Worrul ‘Obalee. He stomped towards us. “Lock it down, or you force my hand!” His words ceased our struggle. “Will someone explain what this nonsense is about?!”
I straightened myself. “An argument sir,” I said. Mik let go of me. “About… Kish and Layla.”
‘Obalee looked quizzically at me. “Kish and Layla?”
“Yes, sir,” I replied.
‘Obalee stared, and then he looked at both me and Del. A few more glances passed before he asked the burning question. “Brothers?”
“Brothers,” said Del and I simultaneously. He nodded in understanding.
“Keep a lid on it,” ‘Obalee ordered. He looked over the two of us again. “Undeniably… it is of paramount importance that we all go into battle wearing our hearts on our sleeves, for our hearts are made of pure steel. What say you all?!”
My commander had quoted the novel, reciting a line from a particularly humorous scene word-for-word. I grinned, raised my arms above my head, balled my hands into fists, and yelled “Falx rules!”
“Ha ha!” guffawed my commander. He pointed to me. “A classic!” Then, his smile disappeared as he looked to Del with a markedly changed disposition. “Have you not a lance to oversee, Major?”
“Yes, sir,” said Del.
“See to it then, dismissed!” ordered ‘Obalee. Del departed from our presence. My commander then returned his attention to me. “Worry not,” he said, once gain quoting the book. “And if you do, worry with a smile on your face.” He smiled. “Carry on.” Then, ‘Obalee left us.
“I thought it was “Panic not,’” said Mik.
I turned to my friend. “You only watched the film.”
Category: The Weekly