From the Valley of Fear

Something had gone wrong with his brother.
Barok wasn’t sure when it started. It might’ve been behind the closed doors of the Old Bailey, on that fateful trial, which had acquitted him of all but self-defense and closed the curtains on the Professor’s reign of terror. It might’ve been when he had been found in his home, the tatters of his finest suit and most cherished friendship falling onto the blood-slicked floor around him, Genshin Asogi’s lifeless body in his arms. It might’ve been when the Professor took its first victim, when Klint began to spend his days alone or with Balmung, at a distance from his entire family—his brother, his wife, even his unborn child.
It might’ve been before any of these tragedies. Perhaps things had gone wrong from the moment Klint became that paragon of justice, that incorruptible, unbending prosecutor, the very execution of right and wrong placed upon his shoulders.
Or perhaps... it didn’t matter anymore. Klint couldn’t be further from that now, anyway.