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Four Fools’ Flight: Adventures Through Austria-Hungary

December 22, 2012

//This was a writing prompt from a high school English class. I needed four characters to go on a trip, one had to die. I think that was legitimately the only requirement. This gem was my creation.


The Brünn Inn was a run-down building in the middle of the old-style city. It was a chilly April evening when a pair of travelers settled in for the night, a young pair of freckled twins, no older than fifteen. “Barkeep!” the boy called at the counter. “Get me an’ me double each an ale, if ya don’t mind.”

A tall, burly, balding man with very unkempt facial hair looked at the boy and the nervous girl sticking close behind him, “Sure thing. Where are the two of you heading by yourselves? You don’t seem like you’re from around here.”

“We intend ta be headin’ back ta our home, but we gotta go through Vienna ‘fore we head toward Bregenz and leave Austria-Hungary…”

“Seems like a rough journey, my young friend. You two need horses? I can sell you a nice pair for cheap; they’ll get you where you’re going.”

“Sounds like a deal ya be breakin’ me, aye?” the boy thought about it for a moment before nodding. “Aye. We’ll take ‘em. Now ya got a room for us tonight?”

“I do. Seven is free. As is Nine…”

“We only be needin’ one room, thank ya.”

Confused for a moment, he simply assumed the twins were tight on money and ignored his second guessing as to their decision. “Here’s your ale.”


“These,” the gruff man motioned to two young women, one who looked positively spoiled with her dark pink lipstick and fanciful dress, standing beside a shorter (and considerably less well-off) female with dark, narrow eyes and a foreign, yellowish tone under her skin, “are your new companions. A pair of kids should never travel alone, and these ladies happen to be going in your direction. I’d best be seeing all of you bright and early tomorrow; your horses will be ready. The three of you girls ride side-saddle?” he eyed the women and turned to the girl standing timidly behind her brother, all of whom nodded. “Alright. Settle down early so you have energy to ride.”

As dusk overcame the inn, the four travelers sat together at a table. The young redheaded boy looked up at the woman across from him, meeting her clear ice-blue eyes with his sharp green irises. There was a pause as they seemed to size each other up before the boy spoke. “So… seein’ as we’re gonna be goin’ together, might I ask who ya are?”

The woman with the powdery white skin seemed almost put-off by his voice and heavy, rough pronunciation. She straightened her back, readjusting her already impressive posture. “I’m Saara Ojala, from Helsingfors,” she emphasized her smooth accent on her name and home. “Suomi, or Finland, in case you were unsure. Your sister and yourself seem Irish… Scottish, perhaps?”

Somewhat uncertain at her strange accent, he tried to mimic her, sounding awkward as he stressed his words. “Aye, we be from Ireland. Me name is Tylar ó Floinn, an’ this be my double, Lymar,” he motioned to the shy-looking girl beside him, almost identical in appearance to her brother, who glanced up at the older females before looking back down at the ground.

The narrow-eyed woman beside Saara turned to face the Finn, “撒哈拉”。

“This is Ming, and she is from China. I haven’t ever heard her say anything but my name, or at least what sounds like my name. I’m teaching her English, but as much as I believe she understands, she only says ‘Sha la’.”

Meekly, Lymar took her brother by the arm and whispered something to him.

Tylar nodded. “Aye, Mar. We best get started bright an’ early t’morra mornin’. See you lassies at brea’fast,” he stood, linking his arm with Lymar’s and leading her toward the guest rooms.

“You two…” Saara sounded almost scandalized at herself for asking, “are rooming together?”

The heavily freckle-faced pair turned around at her disgusted tone, and Tylar narrowed his eyes as if infuriated by her suggestion that he possibly wouldn’t be rooming with Lymar. “Sure thing. We be twins, don’t ya know? I gotta keep me double safe throughout the night, y’see…”

The obviously high-class Finn looked at the twins, appalled, before heading off to her own room, Ming close behind.


Saara scoffed, speaking to Ming as the Asian helped her undress. “It’s as if he finds no problem sleeping beside a female relative! It’s disturbing!”

“撒哈拉”。 Ming replied with her mistress’ name, as if to say she agreed.

“It’s a disgrace to their country’s image, that’s what it is. Do they have no decency in Ireland? No shame?” the wealthy Finn hissed under her breath, pulling on her nightgown.


“Mar, can ya believe that lass? She’s got a lot o’ nerve! I got half a mind…”

“An’ I got the other half, Ty,” Lymar jested softly, turning her head to glance back at her brother as he helped remove her bodice. “Now, don’t ya be gettin’ so excited, brother. She’s from anoth’r country don’t ya know… that an’… she don’t understan’ our situation.”

Calming himself and smiling warmly, Tylar asked, “will ya be beddin’ with me tonight? Or would ya like ta be on yer own?”

“Ya know I’ll end up in yer bed anyway, Ty. The nightmares, remember?” she replied sadly, ashamed of her own weakness.

“Aye. I like givin’ ya the choice, regardless,” he pulled a nightgown over her head as her dress and corset fell away, paying no mind to her temporary state of undress. “Ya be havin’ sweet dreams tonight, I promise,” he hugged her tightly, defensively, as if he believed that he alone could protect her. Releasing her, he smiled, messing up her short hair that wasn’t much longer than his. “Come on now, Mar. Time for some shuteye.”

She hugged his arm as they lay in bed. “Goodnight, brother.”

“Goodnight, Mar,” he whispered as he blew out the candle and the room went dark.


Tylar gave his sister a leg-up, helping her onto the saddle, where she immediately adjusted herself properly. She smiled softly at him as he skillfully climbed onto the horse’s back. Saara and Ming used a stepping stool to hop up. Ming seemed a bit uncertain in the saddle, as if she had only ridden a few times.

Tylar muttered to his twin. “Do they not have horses in China?”

Lymar shrugged.

As they set off, Tylar subconsciously moved between Lymar and Saara, who rode beside Ming. Regardless to his efforts to separate them, however, Saara didn’t get the hint.

“So, Lymar, was it?” Saara called. “Your name sounds a bit masculine, don’t you think?”

Tylar growled. “Ya don’t choose your name, lass,” he responded for his sister, who looked down at the ground in embarrassment. “Don’t ya be teasin’ me double, aye? Ya don’t seem the sensitive type, do ya now?”

“Making conversation, is all. Don’t sass me, O’ Floinn, you have no idea how much better I am than you in my homeland,” she snubbed him, turning back to face the path ahead.

Ignoring her, he turned to Lymar. “Ya alrigh’, Mar? Let me know if ya be gettin’ tired.”

“Aye…” she whispered.

But it was a long road to Bregenz, and they had barely taken the first steps on their journey. Their next destination: Vienna, where they intended to rest and begin anew the following day.


It was a dark night at the bar in Vienna, and the air smelled heavily of beer, ale, and lager. Saara was paying her drink little mind, she was too busy eyeing the twins. They had to be keeping something secret, there was something too bizarre about their relationship, Lymar was too quiet all the time, Tylar was too defensive, they were traveling alone in Austria-Hungary at age 15… her nosiness was driving her wild. She HAD to know what was going on with them.

At a table with Tylar, Lymar was talking to a young man, smiling and speaking only loud enough to be heard. She was drinking more than her brother, and this worried him slightly. The man placed his hand on her thigh and Tylar had enough, knowing she was too drunk to deny the man anymore. He took her by the hand.

“Ty, what’re ya doing?” she objected. “I’m talkin’ to someone!”

“Come with me, Mar. Let’s get ya into bed early tonight…” he led his sister to the rooms in the back, unaware to Saara’s snooping.


“Ty…” Lymar hugged him tightly, leaning most of her weight on him, as if she were about to fall over.

“Ya had a bit too much ta drink.”

Lymar moved suddenly, kissing Tylar for a brief, soft moment before pulling away as if nothing had happened. If it weren’t for the taste of ale and the tingling feeling on his lips, he would have thought he had imagined the event.

Keeping calm, he tried to sit her down. “What t’was that for, Mar?”

“For taking such good care o’ me…” she stood on her own, seeming slightly less intoxicated. “I was just wonderin’… would ya mind helpin’ me? I got this strange feeling… here…” she put her hands over her heart, “when you’re close to me…”

“Mar…” Tylar sighed, taking her hands gently, “ya know I love ya, but I don’t see it workin’ out. Ya happen ta be me twin, an’ even if ya weren’t… I’d be too afraid o’ hurtin’ ya… I love ya, I do indeed. But it just can’t be. We’re together ‘til the end… but as brothers, lad.”

The door flew open and Saara was standing there, eyeing the twins before setting her glare on Lymar. “You’re… a BOY?”

The skirt-bearing twin turned to face Saara. “Aye… but I don’t… I don’t want ta be!” Lymar clenched her— his fist. “An’ Ty says I don’t gotta be! So he… he keeps my secret…”

“Mar, take a seat, lad… don’t get worked up, now…” Tylar took his brother by the arm, easing him into a chair.

Saara grimaced, shock and disgust imminent on her face. “That’s sickening!” she shouted, backing away from him as if he had the plague. “What is wrong with you? Is that some kind of fetish? There’s something seriously messed up in your head!”

“What―” Tylar’s body was tensed in fury. “Ya best take that back! There is nothing wrong with Lymar! He’s differen’, that don’t make him messed up. Shut yer trap! Ya be the seed, breed and spawn of a Finnish whore, and ya be followin’ in yer ma’s footsteps!”
(alternate: Your mother was a hamster and your father smelled of Elderberries!!!)

She gaped at him before raising her hand to smack him. “Take it back, runkkari!”

Tylar got close to her face, and she backed up nervously. “Ya best keep an eye open tonight, ya witch, if ya want a fair shot at guardin’ yer life.”

She hit him across the face and suddenly began to cough, Tylar stepping back to let her fall to the floor, where she clutched the knife that was embedded in her abdomen.

“Ya don’t insult me double. Ya end up dead. And ya don’t assault an Irishman, lass. Ya end up dead twice. Goodnight, Saara Ojala.”

Lymar put his hand on Tylar’s shoulder, trying to calm him. “Aye, she can’t hear ya, don’t ya know… I’m pretty sure she’s gone.”

“Aye…” he hissed. “Good riddance, I say,” Tylar eased himself, thought a moment, and turned to face Lymar. “Ya best be forgettin’ what she said, Mar… She knows nothin’. Ya can be a girl if ya want ta. I’ll protect ya… and yer secret… ‘til I die. And I promise I won’t be dyin’ anytime soon!”

She laughed quietly, taking Saara’s small purse and taking her money, figuring she wouldn’t be missing it. “Aye,” she turned back to look at him with a smile, handing him the stack of bills. “I love ya, Ty.”

“I know… An’ I’ll be keepin’ ya safe. I won’t be hurtin’ ya, if ya want ta give this new secret a whirl…” he smirked. “An’ ya got me permission ta give me a wee smack if I make ya uncomfortable or anythin’.”

“Really?” she hugged him, and then looked down at Saara’s corpse. “Um… what’re we plannin’ ta do ‘bout that?”

“We flee the country, like we always do. These foreigners don’t understand the Irish way… OUR Irish way, that is.”

Lymar nodded in acceptance of his statement. “Aye.”


//Oh god, my teacher’s face. Goodnight!


Rin and Len Kagamine are more or less Lymar and Tylar O’Floinn.


From → Writing

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