The Twins by Gary Alan Wassner

astray he had wandered. Nevertheless, he maintained the cover he had inadvertently created during this dark period in his life, and he hoped to utilize even this to his benefit.
    He and his father allowed everyone to believe what they would about Robyn, as they always had. They did not attempt to alter anyone’s perceptions. In fact, they subtly encouraged the negative reputation he had gained in order to provide him with an excuse to remain aloof from the prying eyes and minds of those who could ultimately endanger him. Only his father and a few chosen others knew the truth about this ruse. At a very early age, Robyn’s ample powers were acknowledged, and to protect himself, he continued to manifest a frivolous and carefree attitude so as not to be taken too seriously by anyone whose intentions toward him may not have been healthy.
    He was a beautiful boy and an even more handsome adult. He needed no magic to enhance his appearance. Jet black hair hung in thick waves upon his broad shoulders. His dark brown eyes glinted with excitement at whatever task he took on. His skin was of a rich golden-tanned color that highlighted his piercing eyes. Perhaps six feet tall, he was average in height for his part of the world, yet his bearing made him appear to be much taller and broader than he actually was. He carried himself with majesty, as his father proudly recognized.
    Robyn was the dream of every young girl in the province, and his aloofness and private ways only enhanced his desirability. His flippant personality masked a somber and serious side that few people witnessed. Even his father portrayed him as a carefree bon vivant, which was partially true. Yet Robyn was far deeper than he appeared to the outside world to be. No living being who had such a mastery of the arcane could be superficial without being extremely dangerous, and although Robyn was quite dangerous himself, he was by no means superficial.
    Robyn’s instinctual understanding of magic and the ways of the supernatural far exceeded anyone’s expectations or surmising. He had a natural comprehension of the art, and there was little that he attempted that he could not accomplish. An avid reader, he made considerable use of the vast library at Triesma, the university city south of the capital of Concordia, where his father presided. He was constantly starved for knowledge, and the need to learn was so great in him that it kept him restless and striving. His instincts coupled with his intelligence and commitment to learning created a formidable character. Fortunately, he also sensed the alignment of sides and he incontrovertibly chose the side of the light.
    His rapport with the tree who had chosen him was intimate and productive. Oddly, he never had a doubt in his own mind that he would be chosen by Promanthea, the name he appended to his bond-mate, though the circumstances surrounding the process in his case were unusual and unprecedented. As a young child, he communicated with it and felt closer to the tree than anything or anyone else. His tree was a central and essential part of his life for as long as he could remember. Even his father was excluded from the circle of intimacy that he closed with his tree. Such was the way with the Chosen, and families were often left out of what would be the most important relationship in their child’s life. Promanthea allowed him his diversions when he was young, and Robyn came to believe them as intentional. Had he not neared the precipice early in his impetuous life, he may neither have understood its compelling danger nor recognized its shameless threat.
    Robyn received the summons with glee, as if he had been waiting all the while for just such a call. He was well prepared and more than ready to attend to the task at hand. Sitting in the soft and aromatic cleft of a large branch of Promanthea, Robyn lifted his head and gazed at the ceiling of leaves above him. As he did so, the softness of the cushion supporting his