The Legio Twins Saga: New Day Dawning/Chapter 1

Stephanie

Fate is a funny thing. Sometimes, when Fate throws you a curveball, everything can seem to fall to pieces around you, your life shattered, meaning and reason lost among the scattered fragments. At least, that was how it was for me after my Father died. And as I began my slow and ardorous quest to pick up the pieces of my broken life, I guess I sort of lost myself along the way.

But I wasn't the only one who was lost. This is, afterall, not a story of a lonely, angsty teenage girl. This is, however, a story of a brother and a sister- twins, in fact- distanced by the pain that they shared. A story of a boy and a girl who were lost and confused and alone, who found their way back to each other and found their way back home. A story of loss, learning, adventure, hurt, humor, and family. You might call it the Story of Star Wars, but that would only be the truth from a certain point of view. To us it is simply a small part- the beginning- of the Story of Stephanie and Mark Legio. Our story.

Believe me, readers, this is not an easy story to tell, though it is one that I feel I will keep in my heart for the rest of my life. My brother and I never imagined telling this to anyone, though the months that have transpired between now and the events of last December have convinced me otherwise. At first, Mark thought that we could simply begin our amazing tale at that point, but would that really have done our story justice? No. This is the true beginning.

But to be honest, starting here makes telling the whole thing easier. Sometimes, when life seems to be just too much for me, I close my eyes and think back to that fateful Halloween night back in 2006, when we were 17 and all that was holding our shattered lives together were school, soccer, and Star Wars.

I mentioned before that this was, from a certain point of view, the story of Star Wars. I wasn't joking about that. This is no delusional fangirl fantasy run amuck. (I used to sometimes wish that it had been, though. Silly as I was, I thought that it would've made great fanfic material). For you to believe the story that is about to unfold, you must forget everything you know about that galaxy far, far, away. You must unlearn what you have learned...

There are those who like think that they can handle anything their destiny can dish out. I used to be one of those people, too. But when Fate mixes with magic- and yes, maybe some of the Force- that's when things really start to get crazy. And when that happened, Fate proved me wrong.

Dead wrong.

I looked in the mirror, glanced at the photo lying on the dresser, then back in the mirror, making sure I had perfected the hairstyle. Finally I sighed and smiled awkwardly at my reflection, patting the massive "cinnamon rolls" on either side of my head. How my uncle had persuaded my brother and I to do this may still have been a mystery to my mother, but it was beginning to make sense to me. I would just have to learn to accept that this was simply another one of those things that she couldn't fully understand. At least, not after... the accident.

For as long as I could remember, the Legio family had carried what Mark and I had dubbed "the Star Wars Curse". It wasn't necessarily a bad thing; it was just that there was something about us that was so sci-fi. Maybe it was the whole "twin thing" with me and my brother, which had inevitably led Mom and Dad to think it would be a cool idea to buy us cute little Luke and Leia costumes when we were babies, then take our pictures in them and use them as Halloween cards (my mother is the only person I know who actually sends Halloween cards).

Or maybe it was the fact that our cool Uncle Jim who lived with us- or rather, we lived with him, since he actually owned the house- collected lightsabers, had repeatedly collaborated with Mark, myself, and our friends on our fanfilm-making exploits, and was the owner of a deluxe (and very expensive) Darth Vader costume that he had proudly worn to many a convention in the past, as well as every Halloween I could possibly remember. Not that any (well, most) family members objected to his strong spirit of fandom; Mark and I had always been very close to him (occasionally more attached to him that our own parents, I'm ashamed to admit), and as kids had dubbed him "Uncle Vader". The nickname stuck.

...Nah, it was definitely the twin thing. If it wasn't, then why else would I be trying to convince myself that "This was all Uncle Vader's idea" as I adjusted the hood of my white dress while Mark let out a string of curses as he futilely searched for his prop lightsaber?

"Mark! Language!" Mom shouted from the bathroom.

"Ah, shit!" I had just stabbed myself in the eye with mascara; which wasn't surprising, considering how much noise my brother was making in his room.

"Steph, Language!"

"Sorry," I mumbled, "but I can't help it that Luke Skywalker over there is busy tearing his room apart, why can't you tell him to shut his door or something?"

Mark got up and stood in the doorway of his room, looking pissed. "Well, I'm hardly Luke Skywalker without my lightsaber, now am I?" he retorted, "I bet you hid it on purpose..."

"What the hell are you blamming me for?" I shouted, slamming my makeup drawer shut with more force than I had intended to. An outside observer, like Mom, might have remarked that there had been tension between us since I had chewed him out over something at breakfast, but I knew that our resentment towards each other went a few months further back. Ever since a few days after the funeral, each word he said to me- which were increasingly fewer and fewer- I percieved to be a new way to antagonize me, each biting remark inviting agression on my part. He always seemed to be waiting for me to attack.

Why, God, WHY is he doing this to me now? Was all I could think as I stood there glaring at him.

"Oh, like you don't know; you steal my stuff all the time, or at least you used to! Seemed to find it pretty damn amusing..."

"Um, language?" Mom cut in.

" Oh, come on!" I said, ignoring her, "If we're getting dressed up as Luke and Leia for tonight, then please do explain to me why I would find that funny now?"

"Because that's exactly the kind of thing you do, Steph! Well, even if you didn't steal it, I guess that it's for the best if I go as somebody completelt different anyway, seeing as how Luke is still like your little Loverboy and all..."

I could feel my face burning ; my cheeks felt hot enough to melt my thick coating of makeup off. Call me a crazed fangirl a hopeless Luke-Lover, but it was no secret that I had had a crush on Luke Skywalker since I was old enough to like boys, a fact that my brother had always resented and jumped at the chance to tease me about. But in the heat of the argument, this retort seemed to be not only totally irrelivant, but way out of line. I took it as a slap to the face.

"Really Mark, really? Do have to go and make such a HUGE DEAL out of one little thing!"

" Oh, so I'M the one making a big deal? Well, at least I don't spend two hours bitching and whining about your damn hair, bunhead..."

" Watch your damn language!" Mom shouted. Great, I thought, now Mom's pissed off. But when she stepped out of the bathroom, green witch makeup only half done, her eyes were red; she looked really upset. "God, don't you two ever stop fighting? For Christ's sake, you're seventeen now, this 'sibling rivalry' crap you always give me has got to end! This is the last thing I need... if your father..."

Mark and I looked down, ashamed, and stunned, too, that she'd mentioned Dad. She looked just as stunned as we were; nobody had talked about... it in over a month. I had to say something.

"Mom, I..."

"Just finish getting ready. I have a headache," she hurried past me towards her bedroom, but not in time to keep me from seeing her makeup streaked with tears. I almost wanted to cry myself, but at the same time I fumed on the inside at Mark, blaming him for what happened. All I did was tell him to be quiet, and he had to go and be a total jackass about it. I just couldn't bring myself to yell at him about it though, not anymore. Just a few words had slipped out by accident, but it had been enough to bring our fight to an abrupt end.

Slam! The sound of my mother's door brought me out of my grim reverie, and I looked up to see my uncle rounding the corner and coming towards us. He had his full costume on, and carried his Vader helmet under one arm. He smiled when he saw us, running his free hand through his black hair.

"Aww, don't you two just look so authentic!" he said. I sighed, and his smile fell as he noticed our somber expressions. "Is everything ok? Where's your mother?"

"We, we, got in an argument and kind of upset her," mumbled my brother from his doorway, "She yelled at us and said something like "if your father was here,' and then she started crying and ran to her room. I'm sorry."

'I'm sorry'? After what had just happened and all the bastard could come up with was 'I'm sorry'? But deep inside, I knew that even that was more than I could muster, so ashamed was I at my own actions and hurt by his rude remarks. I looked down again in shame, not wanting to see the disappointment in Uncle Vader's face, and the old grief at the mention of his own brother that I knew would be there, too. He sighed and cleared his throat.

"Well, I'll go talk to your mother. The party starts in half an hour, so whenever you're ready, I'll meet you guys in the car. Your Aunt Suzy'll kill me if we get there late again this year," he joked weakly, then left us and went to knock softly on Mom's door.

"I never even found my lightsaber," I heard Mark grumble. My anger boiled to the surface. Shoving past him, I marched into his room, looked around, and picked up his saber hilt from where it had been lying on his dresser the whole time. Without a word, I whacked him hard on the arm with it, dropped it in his hands, and walked away, not even looking back as he gasped in pain.