The brothers travelled the desert.

Many days had passed since they left their father behind in his chamber, his face a hollow shadow of its former strength. He was dying. But as he had called his sons for a nightly talk under the full moon, it was not to say goodbye. It was to ask them for one last favour. They must travel far and wide, in uncharted lands. They must find the buried ruins where great animals go to die. They must bring back hope and life to the kingdom.

They did not hesitate. Horses were called at once, and as soon as the older brother had kissed his wife farewell, their journey began. She had tied a silken sash around his waist, had told him to bring it back and tie it to their bedpost when he returned. The first night would bring them inextinguishable passion, and the gods would grant them the strongest of sons.

He held the sash with one hand during the days, and stroked it tenderly during the nights, when they rested by the nightly fires. The younger brother watched. He did not sleep.

”What ails you, dear brother? Why do you not sleep?” the older brother asked, when the sandy winds woke him.

”I watch over you”, he responded. ”For if you were not to return in one piece, my heart would slowly rot. Your love is mine as well.”

He took great pride in his younger brother, patted him on the shoulder and told him to at least lie down for a while. The gods willed them forward and blessed their journey. It would soon be over. The older brother went to sleep again.

But still, he was watched.

Days and weeks passed. Though they slowly lost hope of ever seeing their father alive again, their promise held them bound. But in the quiet, twilit morning, their eyes fell upon a ruined temple of unknown gods. The temple grounds were covered in dry bones of great animals, who also had travelled far, to finally lie down for their final rest.

”We are here. This must be the place”, said the older one, dismounting his horse.

With torches in hand, they ventured down into the thick darkness with cautious steps and alarmed eyes. The younger brother led the way, dropping small pebbles as they walked. But their passage was forgiving, and they soon reached the main hall. Ancient statues decorated the walls, and in the middle of the hall stood an altar before a massive gate.

The brothers stood in front of the altar, overwhelmed by the sense of power from whatever resided beyond the gate. The older brother then cut his hand and struck his palm down onto the altar.

”I come in peace, and offer whatever I can to speak to the ruler of this domain”, he said, bowing before the altar.

He was met with silence.

“Perhaps father was wrong”, said the older brother regretfully, as he removed his hand from the altar and looked at the blood markings on the stone.

The younger brother snorted. He stepped up and took the dagger, swiftly cutting off one of his fingers to place on the altar.

”I come in peace, and offer all that is in my might to the ruler of this domain, asking nothing in return”, he said.

He also was met with silence.

”It is folly”, the older one said. ”Whatever creature or god has lived here is long dead. There is no power here but that of the hopeful.”

He sighed and stepped down, putting the dagger back in its hilt.

But then there was a soft noise as the winds suddenly entered the hall, showering sand around the statues towards the gate. The brothers heard crumbling noises as one of the doors slowly opened, presenting the inner sanctum of the temple. The darkness within was heavy, but while the older brother was stunned in amazement, the younger brother entered. As he disappeared in the thick blackness of the inner chamber, the older brother quickly followed.

They could not see each other in there, but they could hear the other’s breath, the other’s steps and the other’s beating heart. And something else. The darkness was pierced by the vague gleam of an immense metallic surface, which moved to and fro in the dark, as if it was breathing. It reminded them of an insect’s carapace, and they could see the crude forms of antlers and legs somewhere in the poor light. The ground trembled as it approached them. And then it spoke.

Speak what you crave and I shall grant it. But be swift, or you will die.

The brothers stood in silence. Their journey had taken months, their father must long since be dead. Yet, the older one felt hope. Perhaps there still was time to save his life. Perhaps this mighty being even could restore what had once been dead. Their kingdom would flourish anew, and his father would live not one, but three lifetimes.

But then the younger brother raised his voice to the god.

”I wish for nothing but the sole love of my brother’s wife. I want her to desire me and only me; I want her to yearn for the burden of my children, the sound of my voice and the touch of my hand. I want her to love me, and not my brother.”

So it shall be.

The older brother lost his footing, shocked by the sudden treachery.

”No! Brother! Have we travelled this far, only for you to stab me in the heart, to crush all I hold dear? What have I done to deserve this? Have I ever done you harm? Have I ever treated you unfairly? Have I-”

Speak your wish, or I shall devour you.

”I… no… I wish for my wife… to love me again”, he said.

I cannot undo what has once been done.

”But… no… NO!”

The darkness was closing in on him, the air suddenly too heavy to breathe. He knew that his brother could hear him, that he could sense his misery. Yet he knew that he might be smiling, that his younger sibling might already be on his way out of the chamber, to claim what was unrightfully his and leave her former husband for dead in this tomb.

You are testing my patience .

“But… then… then I want my brother dead”, he cried in desperation.

The echo of his voice did not muzzle the quick snap and the stifled crunches, or the wet dripping onto the floor.

Leave .

And he left. He left the ruins on his own, his once dear brother somewhere between the darkness and infinity. In the sole company of the horses, he rode back in despair, each night restless in delirious fever. The sash remained around his waist, though untouched.

And once he saw the familiar towers again, he was not met with glorious celebrations of his return, but with the news of his father’s death and questions of the whereabouts of his younger brother. The father, who had died the day after their leave, was already burned and mourned. He was no longer prince, but king. But he would not rule his lands or tax his people. All he wished to do was to see his wife, and to tie the sash to the bedpost.

But in his bedchamber, he was not embraced. Instead, he was met with unfamiliar eyes and a worried whisper. ”Where is my love? What have you done to him?” And the hands that once caressed his skin now beat his chest in desperation. She did not taste his name, but cursed it. The lips that had kissed him farewell were covered in tears.

So the king lost his love and his will; the will to live, the will to rule and the will to build things anew. In time, the land dried up, the people either left or died and the king, who did not ever leave his chamber again, pressed his wounded hand around the sash on the bedpost with his final strength.