* * *
Mitheoni
* * *
I reach my hand out and pull the thing out of Arik's body. A few seconds later, I wonder if that was such a bright idea. It spins in my grip, and I barely manage to block it with my sword. Strange thing nearly pierced my leg!
What do you think you're doing?
I admit, it's a pretty good question. I just interfered in something I wasn't supposed to. I think. And I just pretty much attacked a floating, very large, very pointy and very angry weapon. A self-controlled weapon. It twists against my sword, and I feel its surprise as my blade remains in place, blocking it from reaching... well, what's left of Arik. Or me.
Who do you think you ARE?
"I am the Law." I'm pretty sure I could have said that a bit more firmly, but I'm concentrating pretty hard on not letting the trident move any further.
The weapon turns its strange regard on me, and I feel as if every minute aspect of every thought and breath I've taken are being examined and measured. So you are. You are aware of this person's crimes, then?
Inspiration strikes, and I add a little more mental weight to my sword's block. Any trespass committed by this man are hereby absolved. In the eyes of the Law, he is without guilt.
The pressure against my sword disappears. I nearly cleave Arik in half trying not to stumble through him, but still manage to leave a nice gash inside another gash and end up with a fair amount of gore on my uniform. I can still feel the presence of the weapon, but it is quiet, watching me with cool regard from somewhere nearby. It's a very familiar regard.
You! You're that dragon!
I am most definitely not a dragon, Law-lamb, but I recall you as well. There's an underlying pleasure at the weapon's renewed memory of me that makes me shiver, although I can't figure out why.
Jerithea? I feel her turn her attention towards me, and alarm spikes through our connection as she sees what I'm looking at.
I'll be right there!
* * *
Jerithea
* * *
I stare down at what's left of Arik and let out something of a mew. He's, well, very injured, and I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do to help the situation. I look up at Mitheoni, but he just gets all wide-eyed and shrugs.
There's a gentle nudge inside my head, and I take a deep breath and follow the guiding urge to hover my hands over the worst of the damage. My palms tingle a little bit, then begin to burn. I blink and pull them away, but they're not actually on fire or anything. Perhaps a little redder than normal, but that's the only sign anything was going on.
Well, that and the spot of almost intact Arik.
I blink, then put my hands back over the spot. The burning thing happens again, only it feels a bit stronger, but not exactly in a painful way. It feels almost like hot air pressing against my hands. Arik groans, which I guess is a good sign, because he wasn't making much of any noise a moment ago. Parts of him look like they're kind of crawling together, which is gross enough that I nearly pull my hands back. It feels like something holds them in place, steadying the rest of me as well. That feeling of being watched makes my skin crawl, and I steal a few glances.
Of course I'm being watched, but... this is different. It's coming from...
Ah. That weird metal looking fork thing sticking out from underneath Arik. I feel it regard me, and then I feel a cold disdain very much like Arik's. Maybe more of a dismissal. I wonder what it is. Most weapons don't have much in the way of personalities. In fact, I can't think of a single one that has personality besides Mitheoni's, but his sword is pretty quiet and keeps to itself. So much so that I don't really recall thinking about it having a personality at all before now, really.
Now that I know what's glaring at me, I can get back to work. Funny, I think healing Arik is what's pissing it off. Maybe because it didn't get to finish the job?
Funny, that one gash looks more like a sword-cut than the rest of these ragged tears.
* * *
Arik
* * *
Hurts.
I don't want to wake up.
Shall I make sure you never wake again?
I try to turn away from that voice
where have I heard it before?
but there's nowhere to turn to. Or, rather, there doesn't seem to be anything of me to turn. I suppose I should be alarmed by this, but I'm not. The pain fades, and I feel peace for the first time in as long as I can remember.
Who do you think you ARE?
Pain returns in one hard, white slam, driven home by the force of that last word. I cry out, but there's no noise. I try to claw at the burning fire in my stomach, but my arms won't move. I feel the weight of existence slam down on me, and everything goes dark once more.
* * *
"Arik."
I groan and roll over. I don't remember my dreams, but I remember distinctly not wanting to wake. I hear a snort of frustration a bare second before I'm drenched in ice-cold water. I claw at my bedsheets, peeling them off of me, and lurch upright. I'm going to strangle her.
I blink into nothing. I'm sitting on some sort of surface, fully dressed. I run my hand through my hair as I look around, only a little surprised when I find it dry. I curl my legs under me, then stand. Where am I?
Someone taps my shoulder. I turn, and wince as the glare of the sun blinds me. I raise my hand to shield my eyes, cursing at the same prank that has been pulled on me an uncountable number of days. My vision is shot for the next five minutes, and she'll not let up on a fight just because I was dumb enough to let my guard down --
I don't let my guard down.
"Where am I?"
My voice echoes in the darkness. Part of me notes this, relieved that there are surfaces in the fathomless shadows that surround me. Something moves in the darkness, and I whirl, absently relieved to feel the trident in my hand.
What do you fear more than me?
Good question. What are you?
You don't remember. The weapon's voice is dripping smugness as well as curious interest.
I shift my grip, mentally and physically. Quiet.
"What have you got there?" she asks, speaking directly into my ear. Her breath warms my jaw. "Looks important."
I turn, the trident vanishing as I reach for her. "Rhia?"
Sunlight blinds me once more.
* * *
What do you wish of me? Her voice warms the Void, the cinnamon apple smell of her drifting through the Void.
My fingers tighten around Diyn. "I want
* * *
an explanation."
Rhia stares at me, eyebrow raised. "Since when have you ever listened to any explanation I've offered, Aki?"
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "I listen. I listen every single time you stand and look at me and announce with that smug little grin that there is room for forgiveness under the Law in this particular case, and by Theos I never can see why!" I inhale sharply, inadvertently snorting with ire. Rhia doesn't bother to hide a giggle. I scowl, but she simply crosses her arms and grins, unimpressed. "I listened when you tried to explain why it was necessary to cut my hair, I listened while you made excuses for swapping my waterskins with the wineskins, before they were ready, I might add!" She opens her mouth to protest, but holds her tongue when I raise my hand. She settles for sticking her tongue out.
I close my eyes and fight back my temper. "Rhiathea, please, I just want to know
* * *
why."
He looks down on me from his throne. My Father, the Emperor of Chethar, my Creator and the center of my world. None of those matter at this moment, where I am staring up at the man who killed my sister.
"Ariktheoni. My reasons are my reasons, whether or not you understand them. Rhia is gone."
I feel that strange cracking inside at the finality of his words, an ache that appeared when Rhia vanished and has grown sharper ever since. It feels as though I am coming apart inside, disappearing into the Void bit by bit.
So you are. Are you aware of this person's crimes, then?
I blink. "Crimes?"
The light in the Emperor's eyes blinds me. His lips move, but I hear nothing. I raise a hand, trying to shield my face, but it won't move. I try turning my head and closing my eyes with more success. The light grows stronger, and I feel pain everywhere, a sharp burning, as if I am being torn apart right there before the Throne. Is this how it was for Rhia?
Prickles of ice form in the burning, gaining strength and running together. The Void?
"Arik?"
I draw in a breath, the pain making me wince. "Rhia?"
"No." Something hides the sun. A head, long hair, but the voice is all wrong. I can make out wide eyes, then an even wider smile. "Glad to see you back. You'll be in one piece soon."
Only Jerithea. There's enough damage unhealed that I can still feel the pull back towards oblivion, though. I sigh, close my eyes, and try to cast myself back into the Void.
It feels as though I hit a wall. I open my eyes again.
I'm standing in a large tunnel. The floor is an intricate network of tiles in various shades of charcoal and ebony, shot through with gold. I frown, trying to place where I've seen it before.
"You called me here just to stare at the floor, Aki?"
I look up at a cascade of blonde hair, laughing sky blue eyes, and a warm, mocking smile. She's leaning against the rough-hewn black rock, the trident... no, Diyn leaning against her side. She seems to waver, and then my cheeks are embarrassingly wet and I'm weak in the knees from something other than blood loss. "Rhia?"
She wraps her arms around me, chin digging into the top of my head. Diyn swings around in her grip, pounding me soundly on the back of my skull. "I missed you too, little brother." She pats the top of my head as I sob like a child into her shoulder.
There's a pull. It feels as though my brother were grabbing me by the shoulders, pulling me back. I straighten, wrapping my arms around her shoulders -- when did she get so short? -- and push back against Theosil.
I won't leave her again. I won't leave here without her.
