The Twins by Gary Alan Wassner

into the more open area, on guard against the prospect of anything unforseen occurring, and continued to follow the boy. Calyx bounded ahead, unconcerned; a good sign.
    Soon enough, Tomas stopped, faced Cairn, with an expression of extreme pride spread across his young face. Behind him stood the most beautiful tree Cairn had seen in ages.
    It must be a Lalas , he thought. And this boy must be its Chosen, otherwise he could never be sleeping near it, let alone inside the shelter of its branches.
    Yet, Cairn was unaware that any of the great trees lived in this area, certainly not one as massive as this one. He knew that he had recognized its presence earlier, yet he was baffled as to how one could be here, now, without having been recorded by the elders.
    “Tomas?” he queried, “Is this your tree?”
    Tomas looked slightly perplexed by the question, bowed his head, chin to chest, and thought for an instant.
    “How could a tree be mine?” he replied confused. “The tree is my friend, as Calyx is yours, if that is what you mean.”
    “Surely, I do, my son. It was only a matter of speech,” Cairn responded, not wishing to confuse the child with terms he was clearly unfamiliar with. This was a very unique boy and an even more unique Lalas, certainly untraditional to say the least. The fragrance of the tree was obvious and as he thought this, some leaves wafted to the ground in front of him, an invitation not to be taken lightly. Cairn bent over and retrieved the leaves, bowed deeply to the tree, and placed them carefully in his belt pouch.
    “Ormachon likes you,” the boy said grinning.
    He twirled and danced in a small circle, singing in his melodious voice.
    “Ormachon has a new friend, just like me. Before it was just us, now we are three.”
    He giggled and pranced around the trunk of the Lalas, until he was sufficiently tired and dizzy, then he fell to the ground and laughed some more. He behaved as a child, but his knowing eyes betrayed a wiser more mature young man hidden behind them. Nonetheless, the boy warmed Cairn’s heart like no child had ever done before. He felt bound to him somehow, and through the boy, he felt a kinship to the tree. He was not a Chosen, he had no magic and he never envied those who had. Yet, the feelings now taking over his very being were like none he had ever experienced and he was thoroughly enjoying them. Both he and Tomas reveled under Ormachon’s protective branches for a short while, each in his own manner, enjoying the peace and comfort the Lalas afforded them.
    A violent sound shattered the calm surrounding Cairn and Tomas. Calyx’s growled and bounded down the path toward the cottage. Tomas lifted his head and gazed in the direction Calyx had just run. His face paled. Cairn felt rather than saw a sadness overtake the boy. Cairn also sensed that Tomas remained where he stood, sheltered by a sweeping branch of the great Lalas behind him.
    “Stay here, Tomas, something’s wrong,” he said, peering once more at Thomas before dashing down the trail.
    Cairn peered once more at Tomas before he too dashed down the trail, and it appeared to him as if the soft branches were caressing him and holding him back.
    Calyx was far ahead of him by the time he reached the brush and he could hear sounds of violence in the distance. Everything was happening so quickly, he barely had time to think about what he would do if he came unawares upon another group of belligerent townsfolk. Taking care not to burst into the open undefended, Cairn approached the house of Trevor and Safira. He felt the tremor of apprehension overtake his body, as his senses were assaulted by the scene that opened up before him. Calyx had already begun his pursuit of the aggressors by the time that Cairn was in view of the cottage itself.
    He was unprepared for what he saw in front of him. Trevor lay on the ground, his staff clenched in his hands, partially concealing the body of his wife, Safira, in a protective