A Brother's Plea (Kala)

[Stefan Dornkirk]

The First Minister wanted to wail, the feeling was like an animal, feral and broken raising its head to howl its pain to the sky, to heaven and whatever gods were listening. But he did not want any gods to see him, he didn't even want the Lady and his own wife to see him. A lifetime of self-control had abandoned him for a moment in the last place that he had been a twin in physical space, that of an infant, but it came back to reassert itself more quickly than he might have wanted.

He was still shaking, still weeping, but any sound that might have accompanied these caught in his throat as he opened his eyes and nodded at the aetherial projection that was like looking into a mirror. What passed between them was immense but it looked so slight to anyone outside of their shared minds. Just eye contact and little nods once in a while. Neither of the women present was lacking in wisdom enough not to realize that something a lifetime old was being expressed, and so they were, all four, quiet for a time.

The second set of twins was not so caught within the spell of intensity but if they did fuss, it was quietly as they drifted in an out of sleep in the warmth of each other and their mother.

When all that had been pent up for so long had been expressed, Stefan was able to compose himself further, murmuring quiet words that were obfuscated by the wide, dark wings that wrapped around him. These were not feathered, as had been all the men of the hated species that had had met or seen. Instead, they were warm flesh, thick and solid, at least, for the moment. A part of Stefan wanted to stay there, but he could hear the voices of his sons, and the quiet of his wife, and beyond that, in the distance, the mechanical hum of the islands on which they lived. So, when he was able, he stood. His twin, nameless, he realized, rose with him, keeping close enough that it seemed as though only not wishing to be in Stefan's way kept him from wrapping around him again. Without thinking about it, Stefan reached back and wrapped both the arms around his chest. Kala had not said how long her gift would last and neither of the Dornkirk twins seemed willing to lose a moment of what they were allowed.

His voice was rough, but steady as he turned his eyes on Lady Leukos and said,

"What... what will happen to him?"

[Kala Leukos]

.

When Stefan asked his question, her eyes were on the door. Eitan stood there, one moment mouth agape, the next teeth clenched and jaw twitching. He looked as though he didn't know whether to go to his sister, to his brother-in-law, or to execute the woman there with them. It was rare to see him so ambivalent. But when it seemed he wouldn't attack her, she looked back at Stefan. Her eyes were watery from watching this, but her voice was firm.

"Your brother? I doubt he will quit your presence unless you demand it, though I think he would follow if you gave your son into my keeping. I can ease him toward a soul's repose if he wishes it, but I think he will wish to remain until you are ready to follow. Your son? If you would send him away for safekeeping, I will take him with me to Starfall and I will raise him as I would my own child. You would be welcome to visit."

From the doorway, a shakier voice, "I saw you in the Warrens... when our senses were altered by what we found there. Mists, so..." The spy-cum-politico put two and two together faster than Stefan did, but then he had trained to react decisively in the face of the magical, the numinous. "I'm going to investigate your mother and her family when next I find myself in the Imperium."

The last was muttered and he would likely never go to the Imperium again, but rather, send spies to investigate for him. Though he took to the skies aboard his Searing Victory as often as responsibilities would allow, he knew he needed to be a proper spider and sit in the middle of his web if he wanted to be effective.

.

[Stefan Dornkirk]

It was difficult to listen to the words coming from the noble lady between the soft comforting hum that seemed to fill him from every point that his ghostly brother touched him and the harder, mechanical buzzing that was coming from his own brain. A part of him heard, tried to process, filing the information away until it could be properly worked through.

His mind came back together, sharp and jagged like the reverse shattering of a vase at the sounding of a betrayed, angry voice from doorway. The spell of the cloistered room coming apart and springing into Stefan a dreadful fear. The voice was at once familiar and alien, a man he knew but a tone he did not. Though he could see only the shadow of Eitan against the wall, the man appeared in his mind's eye, stark and more real than anything. A moment in their past, one of a thousand; Stefan's hand raising to brush strands of dark hair away from dark eyes, tucking the strands behind a perfect, rounded ear.

Stefan's eyes moved from the shadow to the Lady and he took half a step towards her. There were options; there was Stechpalme, with her sharp professionalism, but there was also Kala, with her soft voice and gentle hands.

"Could you," He lifted a hand, beseeching, "Could you take them? From him?" His gaze moved now to his son, swaddled, looking, all wrapped up, exactly like his tiny brother. "He can make his own choice, when he's older, if you have that power. But he can't grow up that way, not here and..."

Stefan's voice broke, tripping over the raw flesh of terrible grief so recently spilled. He was looking at Delia now, who looked fierce as a lioness in her laced and frilled dressing gown, ready to kill to defend her cubs.

"If you can't there are... other ways, but I would spare him that, if I can."

[Kala Leukos]

.

Kala spared a glance for Stefan's brother-in-law. He was known to her—at least, she was aware of the new High Sentinel of the new Order. She put her own two-and-two together: rumors that Eitan Angevin was half-Dratori, and if Stefan was of Avialae descent, how much did the blue blood of Zaichaer hide from the world? But she turned almost immediately back to father, mother, and newborn twins.

Twins.

It pulsed like a heartbeat inside her, like how she could sometimes feel a second heart beating in her breast beside her own. So close was she to her twin that sometimes the edges between them disappeared and identity became less a rule and more a suggestion.

When he suggested other things, there was a flash of rebellion on her face. Delia might protect her own like a lion; Kala was no different, only those she considered her own were numerous on another order of magnitude. She calmed, however, and young Storlock made something akin to a moan in the back of his throat. Grymalka, she acknowledged, reminding herself to ask him to take a message to the Kindred if he could. He did not want to vivisect an infant, nor did she wish it. Perhaps she could do something to help. She was Unity and she wanted to keep this family together. The cost, however, was complicated.

The next look across her face was infinitely sad, and too tired by far for a face so young.

"You ask for a minor miracle," she said, a strange catch in her voice. "I will attempt this if you promise not to punish me for it."

Her gaze tracked again, including the parents, the inquisitor, and the witch in the plural you.

"If it keeps my patients safe," Bruno said quickly, quietly," you will be safe from me, Lady."

Eitan's dark eyes narrowed.

.

[Stefan Dornkirk]

Though it looked like there was only one set of twins in the room, tiny and helpless, sleeping in their mother's arms, there were actually three.

The first, the obvious pair, were all potential, nearly infinite. They could go the way of either of the other two, on the cusp of possibility.

The second set was severed, though together for the moment. Stefan stood as the living half of something broke. If he gave one of his sons away, however lovingly he was raised, the connection between the infant brothers would still be severed.

The third set was represented by Kala, though her brother was distant, anywhere she was, so also was he. She represented the fulfillment of the potential and though she also represented a myriad of things that should have stood in opposition to Zaichaer, she was there in support of it. Of him, of them.

"Avialae came into being through terrible magic; awful, corrupting aetheric pain." He paused, his attention shifting from Kala to Eitan. Light eyes met their darker counterparts, he stood up straighter, squared his shoulders and it became obvious he was asking his permission. "Let this one child be spared having to endure more pain to be relieved of that burden."

There was so much more he wanted to say, about what was owed them, about gods paying for the messes they created, about humanity being cleansed of the taint of interference. They had spoken of such things many times; in anger, in determination, even in bravado at their own accomplishments. If Eitan didn't understand what he was trying to convey, if he rejected the newborn goddess' offer, Stefan would accept it and pay the price in his child's blood. That, too, he tried to show to this man who knew him best, that if Eitan said 'no' Stefan would bow to that choice.

[Kala Leukos]

.

Kala's decision was already made, though it required a few things before she would enact it.

High Sentinel Angevin could sense the wards she was placing over the room. He almost laughed; they were weak and simple compared to what he could do. Sometimes he marveled at how Kalzasi managed anything; weak and simple as they were, though, unless someone broke them with overwhelming force, the door would not be breached and no sound would leave the room. Oh, but he had an abjinurium-edged dagger with her name engraved upon it... Nonchalant, he didn't react to her efforts.

"In order to attempt this, I will have to reveal things about myself that will make you revile me. That is a sacrifice I am willing to make for your brother and your son, but I will have your words of honor that you will keep these revelations entirely to yourself."

"You have my word of honor, Lady Kala," Delia said without hesitation. "If you save my son and my family in good faith, I will keep faith with you and keep your secrets, reciprocating the letter and the spirit of this oath." Kala nodded gravely, "I so swear."

In the lull that followed, young Bruno Storlock stepped forward. "If you save my patient from persecution, I will keep your secrets, on my honor and by the Honored Dead." Kala nodded gravely—pun intended—to him as well. "I so swear."

"Eitan," Delia hissed. "Swear for me. For your family."

Eitan frowned, but he bowed to Kala with only a hint of mocking.

"If you keep faith with this compact, I will keep your secrets, with the caveat that further meddling in Zaichaeri affairs will fall under my oversight. I will not suffer you to make puppets of the powers that be. My honor for the State, and I would sacrifice my honor for the State."

Serious as death, Kala nodded. "I have sought only to build bridges. I so swear."

Her gaze turned somberly to Stefan, though her voice was gentler for it. "Minister Dornkirk."

When she had his approval and his word as bond, she moved to Delia. The woman, exhausted from childbirth, choked back a sob as she allowed the diminutive Kalzasern woman to take her newborn son into arms that didn't look strong enough to carry him. They did, though, and as soon as the unnamed twin was in her arms, he stole all her attention. She was cooing to him, moving away from all of the others, creating her own pocket universe where only she and he existed. A beatific smile spread across the ghostly face of Stefan's twin.

It sneaked up upon the senses: she began to glow. It could have been the hallucinations of an impending migraine, but no, her heart was a star. Slowly, she was kindled. The shroud of Torin's cloak slithered from her shoulders even as she began to defy gravity. Wings were revealed, unfurling, as her feet left the floor. She wasn't flying, but rather floating. Her clothes, yea, her skin were translucent if not transparent.

And as she shone, she was making a little miracle.

What she knew of necromancy was insufficient to the task. Perhaps with years of study, dozens of experiments, she might do what they asked of her. Instead, Necessity demanded she do something beyond her perceived limits of herself. Now, she stepped outside of herself and stepped into Herself. Flesh was merely an element to be sculpted. Body could be persuaded to change, a soul's vision of itself in mortal form. She was doing things she wouldn't be able to articulate after the fact.

Did hours pass or mere moments?

Finally, she floated back to Delia, a stylized impression of Herself, delivering a mirror image of the newborn in her arms with her brother.

I am Unity. Name him what you will, but his middle name will be Einheit to seal Our compact. I require nothing of him, only of you. Her too blue, too bright eyes cut to Eitan of all people, then back to his parents. You will not teach him to hate Avialae. You will not teach him to hate at all. He will be your opportunity to be better tomorrow than you are today. There will come a day, and here she deigned to give them some idea of specifics, at some threshold, adolescence being the earliest, he will choose. Either he will embrace his wings, or he will reject them and they will wither away within him. Even I cannot see what repercussions might come from that, but I think...it will be akin to potential denied and nothing more.

That in itself could be awful, though.

She stumbled to Her feet, Her glory guttering like a candle in a gale. Storlock was quick, though, and caught her before she fell. Her light died. Her skin went gray.

"Take me to a Railrunner," she whispered, voice cracking, reedy with false age. She reached feebly for her cloak.

The youthful necromancer ducked enough to pick it up and managed to get it around her shoulders, around her wings. The wards around the room shattered like glass, like an eggshell. Only Eitan could sense it.

"Storlock," he hissed, his voice the crack of a whip. "Examine my nephew."

"He is perfect," the young man over-enunciated. "Examine him yourself."

In another time, Eitan might have taken offense. Perhaps he had and it would only come around to bite the wunderkind in the ass at a later date. Instead, he waved him away and went to his sister's side. He hadn't known the surgeon had such a spine. He paused long enough to pull Stefan toward his wife and sons. Let Storlock deal with the winged witch-goddess. His word was bond, but he didn't have to like it.

Delia was weeping with—mostly—joy. In her heart of hearts, she wondered if she had pushed for the correct course of action for her son who could not make decisions for himself.

Outside, she was saying quietly, "Tell the Kindred that I await word on a date and I will have my man open a portal to their location of choice for a meeting."

"I will," Bruno promised, "but... let me get you to Valencia. And thank you. I had the most horrifying premonition that my patient would meet his end with his body broken upon the rocks below us..."

.

[Stefan Dornkirk]

Stefan watched, torn. Between siding with his instincts and a lifetime of training. Between the good of his child and the obvious revulsion of the man he was closest to. Between fear and anger and grief and so many more.

He nodded, said whatever words felt best to convey his willingness to keep her secret in exchange for her keeping his. For she was making that commitment. The fact was that Kala Leukos was a witch, though he was confused to realize he had never thought of her as such. But that was not something to be ashamed of in her culture, so her secret must be something else, or something more. This knowledge comforted him in no small way, knowing something private and potentially damaging about her would make her much less likely to reveal the unearned taint of his son.

They were committed now, Stefan, Delia and Eitan on one side, and Lady Leukos on the other, locked into this pact of mutual protection or destruction. Storlock was there too, the surgeon-necromancer, and the midwife had seen something, though she likely knew not what. The Order would keep their own in line, Eitan would see to that. The midwife, Delia would speak to, likely explaining that some evil taint had been present but the surgeon had removed it. As they had removed Eitan's taint of birth, or, at least, all appearance of it. Would this miracle remove the taint from the blood of Stefan's offspring, or only the appearance? It was not something he would question then, perhaps not ever.

He had seen so many things that night that he would not have believed had he not experienced them himself, what happened next was no different. Seeing the tiny infant in the tiny woman's arms brought home to Stefan just how small she was, how much larger he, so he tried not to loom, tried not to menace, even as she began to glow. Her eyes were for the baby alone, and for that, he was grateful. A part of him wondered what he might have seen, might have felt, had she turned her gaze on him in the moments when her voice echoed through what felt like more than a single reality.

Stefan glanced back at his ghostly twin, at the adult manifestation of the dark wings that were now missing from the infant's back. He nodded to the words, haltingly, unable to form any greater response. Both of the adult twins jerked toward the Lady as she fell, but Storlock was closer and caught her. When Eitan tugged him closer to his wife and children he allowed himself to be moved. Over his shoulder, the ghost was beginning to fade back into incorporeal but he caught Eitan's eyes before he disappeared, examined him closely, and then nodded, the hand that had been resting on Stefan's shoulder lifting to allow Eitan to take his place.

They were a family, filled with secrets, bound by blood the in their veins and the spilled out for each other.

[Rune]

Storlock tried not to stumble under the weight of what he had seen. The weight of the woman he helped to stand was slight, and nothing in comparison. Putting away that which he could do nothing with for the moment he tried to decide if he should send a runner out to try and locate the Railrunner leader or if it would be wiser to go to the office the seeker-coven kept on the Sky Islands. If Valencia was not there, surely there would be another Railrunner who could either aid Lady Leukos themselves or send for someone who could.

While he was still considering this, the First Minister's secretary-servant approached and gave the dry little cough that never failed to garner the attention of his target.

"Pardon me, Dr. Storlock, Lady Leukos, but I believe there is someone awaiting you downstairs." Having thus informed them he waited for them to follow him, his body in a posture of unalterable expectation that they would. In the entrance hall stood a women who could have been quite young by her outward appearance. Star-white hair tumbled out of the hood of her blue cloak and over her shoulders and her eyes were large enough to give her face an almost child-like appearance. But as soon as one looked into them it became thoughtlessly apparent that she was no child, nor even young.

When Kala reached the bottom of the stairs and stood before the woman for a moment it looked as though she might curtsy. Instead she inclined her head carefully, with respect but without taking her eyes off of the other woman.

"My name is Valencia, of the Railrunners. I heard you were looking for me." This cryptic greeting was not given further explanation until the manservant took his leave and a stern look was given to poor Storlock, who had been subject to more than his share for one night.

Stepping up closer Valencia said,

"Whatever you just did caused quite a stir among the covens. I have signed a contract to bring you to a safe place where you can rest. If you wish, I will not try to force you. The contract includes taking you somewhere else if you would rather. You should know that I do not have the slipstreams to Starfall memorized, the closest I could get you would be Kalzasi city but..."

Here Valencia lifted her eyes to fully meet the tired but still glowing-pale eyes of the Lady,

"I swear to you by my the First Contract, by my blood that signed it, that you will be safe and more than safe if you will let me take you where I have been asked."

Fin
*
To be continued...