Symphony of the Universe: A Melody of Knights VII
This story is meant to take place before the events which
occur in the comic series Symphony of the Universe.
Edmund was excelling in his mathematical niche of probability theory. His contributions to the Girsanov theorem (a theorem which is especially important in the theory of financial mathematics) had won him a bit of academic achievement and recognition, and he was rightfully proud of this.
Edmund's first letter unanswered by his brother, he sent Edwyn a second letter. In this second letter Edwyn wrote of his success. There were many practical applications of his studies of probability. For one Edwyn had become an excellent poker player, were there were only 52 cards. 13 possible ranks of each suit and a few variables based on the style of the poker game such as the inclusion of jokers or wild cards. It was an easy thought process compared to typical stochastic processes which he analyzed on a daily basis.
Money was no problem for Edmund. He analyzed the stock market daily making sharp decisions on profitable investments. He paid close attention to the mathematical aspects of horse racing and dog racing knowing the odds even better then the bookies themselves seemed to. He played games of chance and won and lost great sums sometimes within the same night. He had very little in the way of expenses, his scholarships had paid for most live in costs.
Edmund didn't want anything that would attract attention. A brand new car would be asking for theft, so would expensive electronics. He wasn't vain enough to be interested in jewelery or name brand clothing. He also didn't want a trackable expense trail that may make him seem like a drug lord rather then a mathematics major. The stocks and junk bonds he invested in had a paper trail, as did his petty income as a teacher's assistant at the University. Everything else was cash under the table. He would keep this cash in beat up shoe boxes, empty tin cans which once held potato chips or coffee now sealed shut with super glue and other odd places. He seldom carried very much on him, except on poker nights. He was very careful not to be seen with large sums of money. Very careful to keep people out of his modest apartment.
Suddenly, he could afford medical treatment. The University position offered him a decent health care plan, the only health care plan he had ever had. His first doctor's visit was an uncomfortable explanation that he had no family doctor, no history of medical care. He had been vaccinated in elementary school only to meet basic requirements. Other then that, there was nothing. Had he ever become ill it was for the Lord to decide to make him better or to take back the soul which he was given. At least that was how he was raised. Suddenly this was no longer true.
Access to health care for Edmund meant a daily dosage of antipsychotic drugs with names longer then he could pronounce effectively, typically at bedtime due to their sedative properties. Edmund had a difficult time judging if they were working or not. He still had a hard time with verbal communication, and was frequently frustrated because of this. He would become irritable easily and snap at people for not being able to keep up with his connections. Sometimes he would snap at himself for failing to find the words to describe his connections. The vicious self chiding was unpleasant for others to witness. He tried to keep his tirades as private as possible, saving them for late night sessions of literaly slamming his head against the wall. The antipsychotics often did aid him in falling asleep before it came to this.
Edmund wrote to Edwyn almost daily. Sometimes the letters would be almost confessionary in nature, others would be angry, or demanding or pleading. Edmund would purchase stacks of money orders, which indidiually capped at three hundred dollars. He would send these along with the letters. Three, six, nine, tweleve hundred dollars he would slip in, apply a stamp, scribble an address and kiss it good-bye. There was no phone in the Knight's home. No way to call and follow up. Edmund pleaded in writing for his brother to come and see him. Edmund was not willing to enter that terrible home in which they grew up to go looking for him.
So day after day Edmund would come home to his apartment and find the mailbox empty. He broke the locks and checked his neighbors mail as well, just in case there was some small mistake. No. Nothing. Edmund came to the conclusion that his brother was outraged. Edmund thought that his brother hated him. He feared that he would never see his brother again. All those days and nights added up.
Edmund would try to make connections with other people. But those other people were not his brother. They did not listen to every word he said, they did not treat him with kindess and paitence. They did not look up at him with adoration. These were all things that Edwyn did effortlessly. Edmund became so lonely that he didn't even recognize it as loneliness. He looked for other explinations, asked his doctor about antidepressants that may not interact poorly with the antipsychotics. The doctor reccomended that he examine his lifestyle and reduce his stress rather then take antidepressants. Antidepressents would only mask the real problem.
The real problem was simple.
Edmund missed his younger brother.