My Brother is a Fool

There are days when the love I bear for my brother seems to heavy a burden to bear. Today is one of them. I warned him that he was meddling with forces far beyond his comprehension. That he would not be ready when they became cognizant of his curiosities, and started to scrutinize him in return. It now appears that he believed my warnings were correct, and forged onward regardless. Knowing he was hurtling headlong to his own doom, it appears he took precautions. Of the most abjectly reckless kind imaginable. To prepare a ritual to rend apart his own soul? Stark derangement. Even if he could be sure that inaction would yield even more damning consequences, there is no way he could possibly anticipate the cost to his being. And so, here we are, chasing after what’s left of him. Even if we manage to uncover his resting place, there are simply no guarantees there will be anything left to find. And yet, my quest continues. The bonds of blood run deep, and though I am loathe to admit it, I find I am not truly whole without him.