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Mithrun was taken care of, Obrin had always made sure of that. Him and his little brother may not have gotten along, sure, but that didn't mean he didn't love the little brat, even when he grew into a progressively older brat. His attitude had only added to his charm as a little brother, in Obrin's not so humble opinion. Conis, his betrothed and soon to be married, hadn't liked his little brother at all when they first met, but she had warmed up to him. Especially after Mithrun was staying with them after his dungeon incident. Having someone to force feed her admittedly pretty mediocre meals was a huge selling point, even if Obrin had tried to encourage her to not shove food Mithrun didn't want down his gullet. Sometimes he ate it, sometimes he didn't.
Mithrun's caretakers were alright. They could get him to wash, to relieve himself, to eat, and to sleep, but they treated him as lesser, second class, below them. Obrin hated that. He had been aided by crutches since he was little, and usually by a seeing-eye fairy, since his vision was always covered by a blurry spot in the very middle. It bothered him how people looked at him or would knock the crutches away, or even baby talk to him as if he weren't an adult. But that was the drawback of being disabled in a society like this one, he supposed. He hoped Mithrun wouldn't have to deal with it as hard, even though his lovely long ears had been cut off and his eye torn out. Mithrun, although he had had some intense feelings for his brother, most of which were negative, had always stood up for him in front of others. That made Obrin want to help his little brother like he had helped him.
Mithrun spent his days bedridden, desireless and empty. It saddened the elder, who longed to see his little brother throw himself into books and training like he did when he was young. But no amount of training could bring back Mithrun's desires to be smarter, stronger, and better. No amount of healing magic could either, although Obrin had tried. It had taken him quite a bit longer than others, but he had quickly become the go to for healing magic on the Northern Central Continent. Even if people still doubted him and asked him where the real master of it was. It always made him feel good to show those assholes up. He had tried the best, most complex healing spells for any and every ailment, but nothing had worked. Mithrun stayed silent and depressed.
Years had gone by, Mithrun rotting in bed whenever given the chance. It seemed the services Obrin had shelled out for, the best of the best for his little brother, had only been focused on keeping him alive and physically well. There was nothing for his mental state, not that Obrin could find. And he had tried as hard as he could, but nothing had turned up. And his little brother had sat there, unchanged.
He had taken to sitting with the younger, talking to him about his day, his teachings at the local magic school, his clients, Conis, how their parents were doing. He didn't bring up dungeons - was advised strictly against it, actually. It could retraumatize the man, according to specialists. He wasn't to bring up demons, dungeons, or canaries. Nothing.
But he was losing hope. As Mithrun's hair had grown longer and his eye glassier and glassier, Obrin was growing more and more convinced that there simply may be nothing that could bring back his little brother's luster. But Obrin wouldn't give up on his brother, just as his brother had never given up on him in their childhood, even if he did, mentally. His outward expression kept Obrin going.
So, on nothing more than a whim and a dream, he brought up the most recent dungeon.
"On Merini, a brand new dungeon opened up. It's a small one, but they're still worried about it. Some of the sensors have caught a trace of dragons down there, red ones if I remember correctly. Dangerous stuff, but they want to open it up to the public. Apparently, when it opened, some guy came up through the entrance babbling and then poofed into dust. They're worried about it, but they can't take back the decree for it to be public."
Mithrun blinked, turning to stare at Obrin, directly in the eyes. One of the first signs of life from the younger in years. Obrin felt his face stretch into a smile.
"Yeah, some early explorers came back, saying the entire structure was covered in gold and jewels. Full of mushrooms though, all different varieties. Did I tell you, a couple years back someone found a bright blue one! More saturated than the sky. Shocking stuff, really. They handed it over for dissection, but aside from a trace amount of poison, nothing to worry about. Probably to deter predation, or at least wipe them out so they don't interfere with offspring."
Mithrun nodded along, grabbing hold of Obrin's hand and pulling it to hold next to his face. Obrin ran his thumb over his younger brother's knuckles, continuing to talk about dungeons and creatures within. Whenever he tried to stop, Mithrun would grasp his hand tighter, talking for the first time in nearly a decade, "More." And so Obrin kept talking. He didn't stop until his throat was dry, and even then, when Mithrun's caretakers came to feed him, Obrin tried to lead him to the dinner table, chattering away. Mithrun followed, elder brother's hand still in his grasp, not nodding along, but clearly following intensely. Obrin kept ranting, on and on about magic and monsters, only pausing to take bites and compliment Conis on the new dish. Mithrun had to be prodded into it by Faehil, one of his main nighttime caretakers, but he managed small bites. Once he got through about a quarter of his meal, he seemingly went a bit limp, hunching over and staring at his plate. Faehil picked up the spoon and continued feeding him, however. Progress was progress. Obrin was beaming for days.