The country didn’t really have a name back then—it was just “the southern nation,” whereas the ones farther north had actual names to highlight their ‘civilization.’ Not that this nation wasn’t a civilization, of course, but it was a scattered one—like most of the nation, Odika’s family lived in a forest hunter’s community with two other families. They hadn’t moved from the area since Great-Great-Grandpa came here.

The family consisted of Odika, Matali, Aeden, and Hakue, aged nineteen, sixteen, fourteen, and six respectively—all boys, which was fine enough for Pa and Ma since the latter didn’t want to raise girls anyway. Sometimes Odika wondered if she second-guessed herself whenever the boys started arguing, considering that they were the rowdiest siblings in the area.

Odika and Matali, the oldest two, shared a room. The family’s dog—a year-ish old thing that Odika found as a pup on his first trip away from home with Pa, who had no true name yet—slept at the foot of Matali’s bed, snoring as loudly as a dog could; while Matali didn’t snore per se, he was a heavy enough sleeper that the dog didn’t bother him. Odika usually had time to wake up with the sun, get dressed, and make sure he had everything for the day before Matali even thought about rolling out of bed.

That was exactly what happened that day. Odika noticed the sun coming through the window, grunted his mild annoyance that he had to get up, and got changed. As he did that, the dog took notice, glanced at Odika, then got up so he was sitting on top of Matali as a reminder for the boy to get up. Odika chuckled, seeing that Matali didn’t even move.

“You’re not a lap dog, bud,” Odika told the dog, who was already asleep again. “I think you’d need an army to wake Matali up against his will.”

Odika left the room when he was ready, keeping the door open so Matali could possibly wake up when Ma called him. He saw Aeden, the next earliest riser out of the boys, and they joined Pa out in the forest to hunt while Ma made some breakfast. When those three came back with a few fresh kills, they put the meat somewhere cool and cleaned up to eat.

All the boys—including the dog—were present now, although Hakue still looked tired. Ma sectioned up the meal and distributed it among them, with Matali giving up a little piece of his to add to the little bit that the dog got.

“You need to stop feeding him your food,” Pa said with a frown. “The dog has his own pile.”

“It’s never enough for him,” Matali argued. He was using one hand to pet the dog and the other to eat. “He’s not a pup anymore—he needs more than a few bites of meat.”

Pa just grunted in response. It was Odika’s idea to bring the dog home—and yet, the thing took a liking to Matali. Matali, in response, took special care of the dog; after that day, it was Odika’s responsibility again.

Matali spoke up again when most of them were done eating. “Is it all right if I go outside to make up for what we don’t have?” He asked. “I know we’re low on venison and game, and you”—he was addressing Pa and Ma—“two needed to head out into town.”

“Take one of your brothers with you,” Pa replied firmly. “That, and keep the dog inside—it’ll eat all of the smaller animals.”

Matali nodded, and Hakue spoke up to volunteer, looking at his older brother. “Can I go, Matty? Please? It’s so boring at home all day!”

Odika and Aeden both chuckled at Matali’s groan. “Please don’t make me take Hakue,” Matali told Pa. Matali looked at Odika. “Can you come instead?”

“I should start preparing the meat we caught this morning,” Odika replied, shaking his head.

“And I was going to help,” Aeden said cheerfully, “So…”

Matali glared at him. “I know that’s a lie; you just want to watch me suffer.”

Aeden snickered. “Maybe. I have to deal with him every other time!”

“He’s a pain, though—“ Matali tried to say.

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Aeden asked.

Ma sighed. “Boys. Remember that you love each other.”

Matali fell silent with a little grumble while Aeden smiled and Hakue was ignoring the whole conversation. Pa stood up shortly afterwards, prompting Ma to do the same. “It’s a matter to decide amongst yourselves,” Pa said firmly. “You know what to do in case of a fire; if anything else happens, get one of the other families to help.”

“Yes, Pa,” the boys all said.

Their parents left, and Odika got up to do his tasks. Matali gave him an almost pleading glance, but Odika didn’t budge; he wished he did, but he knew that Aeden and Hakue wouldn’t be able to prepare the meat well, and he didn’t want to have Matali help him instead because Aeden arguably hated Hakue more than Matali did. Matali didn’t get along with either of the younger two, but Aeden took every chance he could to avoid Hakue; the only brother they all mutually respected was Odika.

Matali sighed, made sure the dog stayed put, and Hakue followed him when he left. Aeden trailed behind so he could watch from a distance.

Odika went to where they stored the meats and went to work. He wasn’t sure of the time, but it must’ve been two hours or so before Aeden poked his head into the room. “Uh, Odika?” Aeden said, sounding a bit worried.

“What is it?” Odika asked, looking at him. “Need something to do?”

“No,” Aeden replied, continuing softly. The tone alone was enough to make Odika stand up and start walking towards him. “I just… I thought I saw a fire outside.”

Odika moved a bit quicker, one word meaning more than a whole sentence. “Where was it?”

“It wasn’t close,” Aeden said, following Odika as he left the room and started heading outside. Odika could see, from a little ways away, a spot of red in the late summer forest.

He glanced back at Aeden. “Stay here unless it gets close to the house,” Odika said firmly. “I’m going to make sure Matali and Hakue are leaving the forest.”

Aeden nodded silently, whatever arrogance he typically had gone in favor of concern. Odika set out for the woods, grabbing a little knife on his way out, and looked for his younger brothers. In between calling out their names were a few scattered curses and muttered prayers. The fire didn’t seem large, but there was plenty of smoke. That alone concerned him.

Odika saw Hakue carefully but quickly coming out of the forest. “Matali’s not with you?” Odika asked.

Hakue glanced behind him and let out a little whimper. As kind as he could make his urgency seem, Odika bent down so the boy would look at him. “Head back home; Aeden is still there. If the fire dies and the smoke clears up before I come back, go to one of the others’ homes and ask them to help.”

His littlest brother nodded and quickly walked back to the house. Odika stood up and walked as quickly as he could towards the direction Hakue came from. He knew he couldn’t search forever—most kids were told to leave an area with fire and smoke, even if they were trying to find someone among it, and Odika knew he’d hear a lot of complaints if he didn’t follow that—but he wanted to try and find Matali.

Odika had spent enough time in the smoke that he was coughing, and was ready to turn back with as much dread as he entered with. When he heard someone else coughing, he quickly walked towards it. When he saw Matali, Odika immediately went to help his brother up.

“Matali.” He was coughing more than he was breathing; Odika was half-dragging him, hoping to hear some kind of reply. “Matali—are you okay?”

It was relieving to hear a sarcastic reply broken and delayed by more coughing. “That’s a…dumb question.”

Odika was able to smile for a second. “‘Yes’ or ‘no,’ Mat.”

Matali’s response was delayed by coughing. “…No.”

Odika couldn’t move much faster, but once they got back to the house the answer helped him move a big quicker. Unfortunately, they were limited as to what they could do; both families, apparently aware that Pa and Ma were out, had come to see the boys. Despite that, none of them could offer much help. The chief way to solve smoke inhalation was to avoid it—there weren’t many ways to help Matali other than making sure the smoke wasn’t getting closer.

Although Matali was the main concern for the dozen people grouped together, Odika and Hakue were also given some attention. The oldest was, within a few years, told to stay away from fires, gaining some breathing issues thanks to his prolonged search; Hakue, fortunately, recovered completely in a few months.

The extra guests left when the fire died and the smoke started to clear, leaving the boys to attempt to entertain conversation with their still-coughing brother. When Pa and Ma came home, Matali had taken his brothers’ distraction as a way to slip back into his room. None of them noticed at the time, too distracted by Hakue bursting into a quick and loud explanation of what happened.

“You left! We were fine—we were fine at first! Matty—Matali and me, we went into the forest. Matty saw a fire! And then we started to leave, but Matty—Matali wasn’t behind me! Then Odika came out and now they’re both coughing and—“

Ma bent down to give the boy reassurance, but the family noticed the silence before she could utter a single word. Odika stood up immediately, not even bothering to call out his brother’s name. Matali huddled up on his bed, the dog whining for him to move and do something; Odika turned him over and found that his brother wasn’t breathing.

“Dammit,” Odika muttered. He backed away again, repeating the curse until Pa came behind him and lightly hit his arm.

Pa looked at Matali, his expression never changing. Odika wasn’t sure if he was just that unconcerned or if he was just putting up a strong front for the boys; on one hand, he never quite got along with Matali, but he still did care for him. He sounded like he was announcing the dog ran away when he said, “The boy’s dead. It’s too hot to keep him out here.” He looked to the rest of his sons, none of which were pleased at all—they actually looked terrified and, especially in Aeden’s case, a bit guilty. “I’ll bury Matali. You three can just…rest. Your ma can cook something nice for dinner.”

Ma went with him to bury Matali, showing a little more emotion than the boys’ father, and they were left to sit there to think about it on their own. They all gathered in Odika’s room, but all three of them were near the eldest’s bed. The dog was the only one brave enough to sniff around the place Matali had been before, still whining. Aeden moved to pet the poor creature after a moment, but he didn’t actually get on the bed.

“…That’s it of Matali, then?” Aeden asked quietly. Neither of them answered him, so he continued without looking at them. “I’m sorry, I… I noticed the fire earlier—I should’ve just said something.”

“He didn’t want to be with me…” Hakue muttered quietly. “He was really far behind because he didn’t want to talk to me. I should’ve listened to him and stayed here.”

Odika couldn’t even try to put his immediate regrets into words. So, rather bluntly, he just let out a curse; Aeden echoed him, while Hakue nodded quietly.

Pa, despite his apparent indifference towards Matali at first, was surprisingly lenient. No one had to do any more than expected (and expectations were generally low to begin with), so the boys came together to continue on a little family tradition—a story full of anecdotes about the dead so others can remember them. They used Matali’s nickname for a majority of it in an attempt to get some humor out of the troubling event. Hakue became especially wary of fires, only remembering the event later in life due to the sudden death.

Odika visited the place where Matali was buried more often than the rest of them; he felt more responsible than the rest of them, if only because he was the oldest and he should have been able to do something—anything, really. The family’s dog usually came along, whining while Odika stood there in silence. There were multiple times—from the first time Odika visited, to Matali’s birthday, to the anniversary of his deaths and every important date afterwards for decades—Odika could’ve sworn he saw him. That first time, the person in question was cloaked and with someone else; the person looked right at Odika as he approached the clearing, and refused to say a word. That same person, decades later, followed Odika home right before he, too, died thanks to a fire—in those last moments, Odika knew that person must have been Matali. No one else would stay close by, and no one else would say those last few words.

“I’m sorry, Brother. Please…rest easy, now. I’ll watch over them for you.”