How To Process Emotions When Faced With Your Worst Enemy

[Professor Charles]

“So. You have had enough time?”

The cruel, dark eyes of Morté watched as our small party made its way back to the dais. I kept to the back, my heart pounding for what decisions I had made that day, for what we had just all done. How would Sephora react when Morningstar spoke of his selection of bride?

We took our previous places, myself gently pushing my way to the back and staying there, right behind Nyx and Hemera, so I could stare at the middle ground as I considered my future. The idea of having my possible daughter around, in our life. The sacrifice of Geras - although Morningstar had said he would be more of a spy than anything. The fact I had finally given up something of my resistance, and submitted to his request of letting lead this heroic charge to end a tyrant.

Morningstar calmly took his seat again, back straight and hands poised on his lap. Curtly, he nodded. “I have. And have you.”

“Indeed,” Morté smiled.

“Then please,” Morningstar gestured elegantly.

“Firstly, I want him back. He is mine,” a long, white finger rose and shoved itself at me. I lifted my brow, Nyx and Hemera looked alarmed. Glancing sideways to Morningstar I watched as my brother slowly, politely, smiled.

“You have nothing or nobody of equal value that I desire. And his use to me is high, and he is described as 'mine’ now, not 'yours’. Out of the question.”

A small sigh of relief came from the room, out of a female voice. I was surprised to hear that it came from the other party, and I was surprised to see everyone was gazing at Sephora. She had a hand to her mouth, and her eyes were lifted up to where I stood.

Quickly, I looked away, avoiding eye contact still. Morté looked at her, alarmed and confused, before he concentrated back to the conversation.

“I want an agreement to arms. The other will go to war if the other is.”

Morningstar frowned, leaning to the side. “But I barely go to war. I desire peace above all. That deal would be very unfair. How about … a deal of open friendship? We will not attack one another's realms, in any way. Unless the other breaks the trust of course.” And he brought a neutral smile to his face again.

Morté curled his lip. “Fine. Friendship it is. We will not attack you, you do not attack us. Now,” he raised his chin. “Information. And exchange; if I ask for information on a subject, you provide it, and vice versa.”

Morningstar shook his head. “My dear Morté, I am a man who runs a kingdom based on information. And you mentioned my researcher before. I do not think you have enough value for exchange to make it my worth while.”

Eyes narrowed. We, the rest of us, were all dead silent. “How about information specifically about events that affect not only us, but also the wider world?” he suggested.

“Certainly, but I will determine what I think is going to affect you. And what is reasonable for you to know.” Morningstar leant to one side in his throne, eyes focused.

“That second part …”

“Fine. Anything world changing. Unless it stupidly obvious, like impending doom for us all.”

Morté laughed at the dramatic manner, “fine. I choose also what is necessary for you to know.

“Fine,” my brother agreed to this. For standard two situations came up to be noted: the apocalypse to come, and the issue of the possibly-fake Thanatos. The latter Morté may have heard of already in rumour form, and Morningstar could at least limit the information on it that I discovered on it, to give to the tyrant. But - Morningstar's further comment. Over what was 'stupidly obvious’. He was easing in his own secret clause for the current doom.

“I also want an exchange of goods. Some of your wine, grape harvest and olives on the way here, for cider from my groves, and other goods.”

Morningstar raised a brow and looked to his left. Vitus poised there, and waited until his lord gestured.

“Five barrels of wine a month,” Vitus said, “and a small tithe of the grape and olive harvests, equating to no more than one hundred kilograms of each per week.”

That seemed to satisfy the King of Death. I noticed that the words 'not exceeding’ were included, revealing the fact that Morningstar could send him a single olive, and still be within contract.

“Very well. And lastly, my suggestion that we seal this agreement with marriage.” He slowly smiled, eyes dancing as he stared at Morningstar. “What do you say to that?”

My brother inclined his head. “On one condition.”

An elegant gesture from Morté said that he was willing to hear.

“That I choose my bride. And I grant you a contract of marriage back. Whomever wants him can have him.”

“Him?” Morté sat up, interested, “who are you suggesting marries into my family? It better be an individual of importance.”

“Family for family,” Morningstar agreed. “It has been discussed, and my brother,” he raised a hand and gestured to his right. I could see Morté glancing at me in the rare hope, “Geras has agreed.”

All eyes turned on the grump as he lurked in the periphery of the group. The primordial who represented age blinked, gazing right at Morté, as he assessed him. A small look of disappointment came to Morté, when he compared Geras to Nyx or Hemera, or even me, however after a moment of contemplation he nodded.

“Very well. What bride do you wish to choose for yourself?”

I had given him a rather clear description of her. Tall. Black haired, with horns that branched back to her skull, coloured as her pale, but ashy flesh. Her startlingly red eyes were what would directly mark her out, alongside the scar at her right ear, that she hid with her loose hair, but I knew of because I had studied her so much. I also knew that a blow from Morté in her young years had caused it. Her mother had rushed with her unconscious form to me and I had spent all my spare time nursing her back to health. Those days had been some of the best of my life.

Slowly Morningstar rose from his throne, lifting his chin. Clasping his hands before him, he began to descend from the dais, leaving the rest of us behind. Beneath his feet the bracken crushed, in the fresh new path that had not been trod between the parties. With the halo of chocolate brown hair my brother made his lonesome way from his own party to his.

Several people tried to follow him. However the man with the power to take that from others placed out his hand, ceasing their movements. I for one stayed where I was, trusting that he would keep to his promise and not touch her. Pressing myself back towards the swatches of fabric that dressed behind me, extending from the throne, I kept watching Morningstar, carefully.

We all did. He was going alone into what could very easily be enemy territory, into what I considered enemy territory. Where my greatest foe resided, and my greatest love.

Damn, I still loved her, despite what she was, what she had done. And my brother was about to choose her daughter for a bride. Potentially my daughter.

What the hell had I agreed to?

Morningstar came to Morté and Sephora. No movements came from the other side as my brother, and the man I worked for, fixed the King of Death with a firm look. Breathing slow, he glanced to Morté's queen, and dipped his head in greeting, before his eyes lifted to view their many children.

More than ten, about fifteen, and a fairly even split of male to female. One girl was far too young, two had blonde hair, and so he easily dismissed them. A further lacked horns - I his eyes pass over her as he looked on the three girls I had noted before. Those who had black hair and pale skin, with twisting horns extended from their heads. One of them he seemed to assess quickly was not she he looked for, and then his eyes remained to the two last. For a long minute he moved his eyes from one to the other, head slightly twitching to indicate so to us who watched him from behind. Keenly, we waited, elegantly, Morté leant away from him as he made his choice. And Sephora was on baited breath, her lip trembling because, after all, they were all her children.

There was a moment where he twisted his head to the side. And I knew what he was doing; looking for the scar. Agonising seconds passed, ticking by insensitively. But then …

Gracefully he extended a hand, outwards towards her. “My lady?” he asked softly.

When I saw the horror on Sephora's face, I knew he had chosen correct. Breath rushed out of my lungs as I focused in on the beauty he had chosen for his bride. Carefully the girl glanced to Morté, who was for intention, her father. Once, the man nodded approvingly.

She sucked in a breath, and placed her hand in Morningstar's. A smile came to his face as he folded his fingers around hers and began to lead her from the group of her siblings.

“Your name?” he asked, so that all the room could hear.

And she whispered. “Selena.”

With relief I sighed. He had got it right.

[Professor Charles]

Time passed.

I heard the sound of the drums from where I slumped on the bed. They were so loud they made the steel door shudder in its hinges. Grabbing a pillow I held it over my ears until it had died. And that meant they had gone. That Morté had gone, that Sephora had gone. My lover from the past, the woman I had hungered after until she gave in and fallen for me in return.

That had satisfied me. Quietly I lay, trying to sleep until I could no more. I rolled out of the small bed, going over to the desk where Regina had indeed left the books. I stepped over the manacles that had fallen off when I had closed the door behind me, then paused before I kicked them hard. They skittered and smashed against the wall. I ignored them, then grabbed a book and returned to my bed, to slump.

There I was for a few more hours, until a knock came to the door.

“Regina, not now,” I said, fouly. “If it's food, bring it in, leave it. If it's you brother … well you can fuck right off. I'm in a bad mood.”

I was trying to read a study by a one Derek Vareniski, who was an elf who was brother who a high priest of Raeaira, who had been told by the Raeairan gods of what they thought had occurred during the Great Calamity. It used it accounts, one from someone who knew a Thayne, and another from a tiefling who was the son of a demon lord.

“It's … I'm not …” it was a female voice. One I had not heard only once today, when she had greeted Morningstar's court. Soft, patient, and full of a thousand feelings that made my heart thump hard.

I looked up quickly.

There she was, at the grill to my cell door, finally away from her family. Black hair, like her mother's. Tall horns like mine, or her other father. Red eyes from who knew where, except from the depths of hell.

My eyes widened. I breathed out, shocked. Slightly, nervously, she smiled. “They said I'd find you here.”

I was even more stunned than I had with her mother. My lips remained parted as the breath rushed out of me, and my pulse quickened. It was just like Sephora. Unlike Sephora, however, I gazed at her right in the face, openly and without any need to break my gaze away.

“You helped me once,” she breathed, “once when … when he hurt me.”

Slowly I nodded, remembering that day. She had lain in my home, that had been little more than a hovel, for two long weeks before she had been able to move on her own. So many times in that time I had wanted to speak to her on subjects more than, “how are you my lady?” but … I had not been strong enough.

Now I knew I was.

“Yes,” I murmured quietly.

“I see your books,” she gestured to the table with the stacks. “You've always liked to read. Even in Rahl.”

“I … guess,” I replied, my eyes flickering briefly to them.

Quickly she nodded. “You showed me my first book. Ever since then, I've been reading and …” she trailed off, blinking a few times, her eyes looking at the bars of the grill itself.

“He keeps you in here?”

“I refuse to submit fealty to him,” I replied, quietly, closing my book now, “continuously. I'm not loyal to him, he cannot control me, but I am useful. This is our arrangement when I'm here.”

“I remember you defying Morté more than once,” she nodded, “he publicly flogged you a few times. Made us all watch. You could have stopped, but you stood for what you believed in and-”

“What has Morningstar told you?” I suddenly said, my brow furrowing.

Selena stopped. A tooth paused on her lip, and she stilled. “It might … might be better if I come in,” she murmured.

My suspicions began to rise, as my blood ran warm. She had said 'him’ and 'Morté’, not 'father’. Had Morningstar already sat her down and told her it all, what her mother had been hiding from her all these years, what should have been my right to say?!

What I would have kept from her.

I swallowed, sitting up straighter. “Selena-”

“I just want to talk,” she said quickly. “How do I get in?”

Anxiously I ran I hand through my hair, looking away and hating Morningstar in this moment. How could he? Clearly it had been my subject to speak of, my issue.

“... Ff-eh-Char?”

“Sliding lock and key,” I said, lifting my eyes back up to her. “You need to find an orc called Fallon, or ask Morningstar.”

She blinked, and nodded slowly. “I'll be back soon.”

[Professor Charles]

It was fifteen minutes later, and she returned with the orc. Apparently there had been some celebration below stairs also, as he was heavy lidded and still carrying a bottle. He grunted as he appeared at the grill. I raised a hand in awkward greeting as I sat on the edge of the bed, poised, as I had been in that same position most of the time. The chair from my desk sat turned towards me, and had a cushion, waiting for her.

The key scraped in the lock, and Fallon drew back the bolt. A screech of hinges and the door swung open, revealing Selena still in her glorious black dress and small pumps for shoes. She clasped her hands before her nearly and stepped in, a soft smile on her face. Her eyes glanced to me, where I blinked back with uncertainty, then to the chair I had arranged. She bit her lip as she stepped forwards to descend into it, as the door slammed shut, and she was locked in with me.

Silence fell, and we both sat perfectly still. Straight backed I was prepared to be as formally as necessary, so long as she wanted to be. This was, after all, due to be a very difficult conversation. If it began at all.

She made no move to begin, and I saw the rose blossoming slowly to her cheeks.

“Your mother never said anything, then?” I murmured.

Blinking a few times, and not needing me to confirm what I was meaning, Selena gently shook her head. “No, not at all.”

Slowly I took in a breath, my eyes flickering away. “Right.”

“She always spoke of you fondly, but then she spoke of others fondly too …”

“So she told me,” I nodded, slowly. That very day, though I really should have always known. I did know.

Her eyes skimmed over me, running around my jawline, the build of my shoulders, my nose. They looked at my hair, my ears, and finally my horns, that were so similar to her own in shape and size.

“I never intruded into your life without inside interference,” I said in a low voice. “Primarily, it was that I wanted you to have a normal life. A good life. One without any uncertainty, as a royal, with the vague possibility you could be the daughter of the family's lowly boatman.”

“Well,” she smiled tightly, awkwardly, “on that-"

“We were dating for almost thirty years,” I explained. “And she did not get pregnant once in those years. She slept with your father - Morté - sparingly in that time, but more towards the end, so it's highly like that-"

“Please!” She quickly held up a hand. I paused, stopped by the gesture. Blinking fast, I frowned, but sat up, knowing it was right to let her speak.

When it was confirmed I would be silent, she nodded, once. “Please. I … Morningstar and I already discussed this. He … had a spell ready. Said it was my choice, and that I didn't have to go through with it.”

My lips parted. I frowned, confused. The bastard had a spell already prepared? For what? A paternity test - and he had not told me? Concern grew deep in me as anger rose. I threw my gaze to the door as my hand began to collapse into a fist and muttered.

“Bas-”

“I did!”

That was enough to bring me out of my anger. Jolting, I looked over, my expression one of alarm. “You … what?

She looked right into my eyes. “I did. As in I made the decision and went through with the spell.”

“You didn't think that it would be something that should be done … later. With myself in the room, or, your mother-”

“No,” she sighed dramatically, “because, like you, Morningstar apparently thought the likelihood of it being you was slim. But that's not the point because-”

“Oh he would influence your decision,” I remarked, sourly. “He's an absolute-”

“Oh for heaven's sake! No one everyone is exasperated with you! Will you just let me speak?!”

I shut up. And blinked. Everyone was exasperated with me? Or was that just Morningstar was, so they all now were?

She sighed, and nodded after a moment. “Good. Now,” she took in a deep breath. “It was positive.”

My lips parted in confusion. “Positive? Meaning …”

“Meaning our blood is …” she gestured between us.

“Is?”

“Connected. Similar. You are my biological father.”

[Professor Charles]

Two hours later I was pushing through my apartment door. I had been gone a total of a day and a half, so there was little need to worry about dust and dirt. The change in circumstances had caused Morningstar to pause, and when Selena had declared a desire to see my life as it was now, plans had been altered.

“I've only been in here a week,” I said quickly, as if I needed to explain myself, “therefore it is not …”

“It's fine,” Selena, my daughter, said quietly, eyes flickering around.

“This … is not the apartment I picked out, Char,” the voice of my second accompanying party said.

Heavily, I sighed, ignoring him. Aiming through the small hallway I went straight into the living room I had partially converted into a library. Simply for the Rahl of it, and so I could satisfy myself in being able to use my powers of magic, I pooled a small ball of dark energy into my palm - about the size of a silver in diameter - and weighed it as I headed into the kitchen.

“Char?” he questioned.

“That first apartment you found was a dungheap,” I growled, “this one was owned by the same grumpy idiot follower of yours, so that should satisfy you.”

I paused as I looked back at them, my eyes resting on Selena momentarily. An awkward look passed between us, the hundredth of its kind since she had declared the blood spell’s findings. Anxiously, she looked away, letting her eyes instead wander over the bookshelves as she headed into the living room. I began to fidget with the ball of energy, rolling it around in my fingers where it made a light crackling sound.

“I guess it will have to do,” Morningstar frowned as he started towards the main, comfortable armchair. It was also known as my reading chair. He watched the ball of energy in my hand and I smiled slightly at the look of discomfort it gave him - the raw demonstration of my power.

Carefully I flicked it up, then caught it again. He breathed in sharply, and I raised my brow at him, wondering if he would dare to restrict me and my powers, in this, the world that was mine.

“You have … a lot of books.”

Glancing over I saw Selena pausing at one of the shelves, her eyes travelling up and down the floor to ceiling spine coverage.

“I've been collecting since the book was invented,” I replied, dragging the power back into my body, so it blinked from existence. “I have some scrolls, parchments and the like, but they are rare.”

“Knowledge is strength, reading is an interest of mine,” she looked back at me, a small intrigued smile on her face.

I nodded, approvingly. “I teach. At the university.”

She breathed in, suddenly interested. “Can I sit into one of your classes sometime?”

“Depends if your 'fiancé’ allows,” I grunted, as I turned to look at my brother. Then I grinned. “Tea?”

Morningstar raised his chin, and sat back, looking disgusted at me. “I have half a mind for you to quit your job and work on the project full time.”

“T-tea, yes please,” Selena said, a little flustered at the notion of being a fiancé. Her eyes were on Morningstar now, as he continued to scowl at me. “You can … do that? And … project?”

“For the last time, I am not giving up my university work, Morningstar,” I said loudly to him as I headed into the kitchen.

“I can make it so. Easily,” he snarled, as I grabbed my tin teapot from a shelf and began to fill it with water.

“What do you mean by 'project’?” Selena asked, pushing her way between us, appearing in the doorway to the kitchen.

As I lit a taper, and from that, the stove, I looked at her. “Your fath- Morté mentioned a researcher, yes?”

She nodded slowly, “ever since he found out, he's been moaning about the fact Morningstar has something he doesn't …”

“Well he had one as a potential for thousands of years, but just ruined him and misused him,” Morningstar spat. I watched over Selena's shoulder as he gestured madly at me.

Her eyes grew wide, as she looked between us. “You mean you …”

“Yes, dear. And now he's mine. Welcome to the more powerful side.”

I shoved the teapot on the heating stove with a loud clang. “Morn. For the last time-”

He growled deeply, narrowing his eyes. I broke off, but heavily rolled my eyes as I moved to grab mugs from a cupboard. Selena was quiet for a moment as she assessed the situation, eyes flickering between us two. I saw her blinking a few times as I began to prepare the tea leaves.

“Will you try to control me as you control him?” she suddenly asked, her eyes darting to Morningstar.

With interest I looked up, raising my brows. Morningstar looked at her intently.

“Are you useful?” he asked slowly and pointedly.

“What’s - what's the right answer?” she murmured.

He laughed; a single, mocking note. “No, I never plan to 'use you,’ my dear, aside from the fact that now we know you are his daughter,” he gestured roughly at me, “well. You came to us as part of a bargain with a maniac. In case you have not figured yet, I chose you quite specifically from Morté's daughters. Now, you are my brother's biological daughter, and thus our 'marriage’ will be in name only. It was going to be anyway, I've all the sex I need. Your current use to me is keeping up a facade of a deal with Morté, so that his threat is moderate. You also allow me an avenue to keep him,” he pointed right at me, “closer. Now we know your genetics, and now your home must be, at least in appearance, my court, well … he won't stray far.” His eyes shone as the kettle bank to whistle. “Questions?”

I had my brows raised as I slowly dipped the tea in the strainer into the kettle and turned off the stove I did not look at him, I did not move to react more so than I had already done. Behind me Selena kept staring at him, her hands curling into fists.

“Yes,” she nodded a little. “Why are you so interested in him?”

“Well there's a question for you,” I muttered. I gathered honey, lemon and sugar.

Morningstar ignored me. Instead he leant back, and began. “At first it was simply a desire to have what your father - other father - had. Then I discovered I wanted him. Once I learnt of his particular use as my information gatherer, then it was decided.”

“He became my biggest fan,” I drawled sarcastically, and I looked at Selena as I took up the teapot as well as the flavourings. “Able to get the mugs?”

Willingly, she nodded, her eyes meeting mine for long moment before she edged back to allow me past. I carried the teapot into the living room, then set it down with a quiet clunk. As the mugs came through Morningstar leant on his elbow and pointed at the honey and lemon, making no move to get it himself. Selena watched in silence as I threw my brother's tea together haphazardly, then set it back down before turning to her.

Shaking her head she leant forwards and began to make her own. We were silent for a while. It took time for someone to continue the conversation.

“So. If I'm your 'wife’ in name only,” she said lightly, “then I have time, and freedoms?”

Morningstar looked at her, then shrugged. “I suppose so. Freedoms enough that they act within the laws of my court.”

“Most of which are don't annoy him,” I explained to her.

“I endorse no murder without cause, rape, or slavery,” he embellished. “But yes. Try not to irritate me. So don't be him,” he nodded to me.

Selena breathed in slowly. I watched her, intrigued. I had to admit, she was taking the entire situation very well, much better than I was, with a light heart skip every time I realised she was my daughter all over again.

“I just have to appear to be a docile, respectful bride at important events,” she spoke before sipping her tea. Then she set her mug down.

“I want to do things I've never done before.”

Morningstar furrowed his brow. “Like what?”

“Like … I want to get to know him better,” she jerked her head at me. “Learn. Attend his lectures.”

My brother looked contemplative. “That … is fine. So long as appearances are kept.”

“Of course,” she replied, “and I have been a princess, that is all. I've been waiting until I was married off to some lord for my second life to start, and ended up in a farce. If I am allowed freedoms, I want a purpose. Allow me to find it, and I will do so subtly, with all decorum.”

My brother considered her, eyes moving thoughtfully across her. Lips pursed he looked at her face, her eyes, her waist, and it seemed for a second he would go back on his claim of not needing sexual contact between him and her. Silently I waited and patiently she did likewise, both of us looking back at him.

At last he sighed. “Fine. Within reasonability.”

“Great.”

Then she looked at me. I was leaning back against the small chair I sat, embracing the mug. Pausing in confusion at her look I spoke slowly.

“You do not need my permission for anything …”

“So I can just turn up to your lectures?” she rose her brow.

I shrugged, blowing on my tea. “They are technically public. Right now I only lecture once a week on Early Thayne worship during the Great Calamity, and the association thus.” I took a mouthful of tea, giving her a silence as she contemplated.

“It sounds … I have never looked into the Great Calamity. It has always sounded rather too catastrophic.”

My eyebrows rose. Glancing at Morningstar I waited with baited breath at what he wanted to inform her. It seemed, then, that if she did not understand it's importance, then Morté would not either. He did not know of the impending apocalypse to come.

“Morté did not speak about it?” Morningstar said quickly, voice still and impassive.

Selena frowned. “No … why should I …?”

“Brother, we need to talk in private,” he stood up sharply, so precisely that he did not spill a single drop of the tea he held.

I knew why but I muttered to him, “Morningstar now is really not the time …”

He sighed dramatically, “forgive me, lady for this, but …”

He raised his hand, thumb and middle finger poised. I cried out alarm as soon as I knew what was going to happen.

“Tea!” I yelled, swinging forwards to shove my cup on the table. “We better be back for that being hot.”

“Oh shut the fuck up brother,” he smiled at her. “Make yourself at home. We may be an hour or two.” And he clicked his fingers.

I already had my wrists together, boredly waiting, and I was halfway through standing. Selena watched in horror as the familiar (for me) golden manacles shimmered out of thin air, forming each grain by grain, but so rapidly that it was as if they grew rather than appeared. As they fastened over my wrists I threw her a look.

“I'll be absolutely fine. I'll be back. Soon. Read and eat what you want.”

Chains burst from the end, and fled towards Morningstar. Taking them from the air he tugged me towards him, firmly, then closed his eyes. A white light flashed. A fresh smell of grass burst into my nose. My library was there and then it was not. Then, I was back in the glory of his court.

[Professor Charles]

“Surprise, I am back,” I drawled sarcastically.

There was a burst of bright laughter. Hemera fabulously came to life at my elbow, slipping her arm in with mine. As I glanced around I saw we were in his small round table room, and those who had originally been part of his advisory court, plus another human now, and without Geras were here. It seemed I had suddenly been promoted to Morningstar's inner sanctum.

“Everyone sit, including you,” Morningstar growled as he strode.

I found I was forced along. It also seemed that he did not want to go through my extensive conversations of wanting to be seated again at his table of close allies, for he looked at Hemera apologetically before physically grabbing my upper arm. Pulling me hard he urged me to the seat beside his throne, then shoved me back into it. I rolled my eyes, but stayed where I was - then was somewhat forced to stay as he shoved the end of the chain into the wood of the chair. Like a knife through butter it merged into the wood, and I was stuck there.

“I agreed to be part of your 'destroy Morté’ community, not your inner party,” I frowned at him, though I relaxed back.

He entirely ignored me as he took his place. And the others took their seats too - Vitus, Marlina and the human to one side and Hemera and Nyx to that which I was on. Morningstar looked at all of us, giving a general sweep of his eyes before he began.

“Firstly, there is a fact to share that I have been made privy to.”

“Sir, are you … sure about him?” Vitus frowned, gesturing at me, “this is, after all, your council. Your advisory court during the trade agreements was, admittedly, connected to this rogue, but this … you do not trust him.”

“Yes, hence the very reason he is bound,” Morningstar growled, “I trust his silence, and that he hates Morté more than myself. I trust he will remain true to my deal with him, and his use to me, but I do not trust him in my court, or to use his powers against me. This is my decision to have him here, not his, not anyone's. Any more objections?”

“Yes,” I threw my glare at him. “Me.”

“Your opinion does not matter in this subject, Char,” he threw a hand at me.

“Of course not,” I slumped to the side, towards where my hands were bound, and crossed one leg over the other knee. My brows raised and I prepared to listen to him.

“Formal introductions,” Morningstar said, and gestured elegantly at the human I had not met. “Grimsaine, also known as Sir Fellden of Corone, meet Charon De’Erebus, also known as Charles Rivers, my … elder brother. Primordial of Destruction.”

“That is the first time I have ever heard you make mention of the fact,” I said, surprised, and looked at the human. “Pleasure, I'm sure Sir Fellden. He forgets to mention I also have empathic qualities, for understanding what should be destroyed.”

“I … greetings, Mr De’Erebus,” he replied, in a tone that was not bitter or rough. My brow rose slightly as she gave me a curt nod, and suddenly I was aware I had a sympathiser, if not, a friend. He gave me a small smile.

“Firstly, there is information you should all be aware of.” Morningstar spoke, defiantly. Looking over, we saw him sit up straight and regard us with sincerity. I raised my brow at him but remained silent, knowing I could not get out of this, however much I asked.

“My … bride, Selena, knows of the circumstances. As far as the court knowledge is concerned, we are married. As far as this council goes, we are not. There will be no formal ceremony, no requirements for consummation. She has agreed to keep up all appearance of a marriage.”

There was no reply, just small nods.

“For the other circumstance surrounding her,” he set his hands, clasped, on the table before him. He looked to me. “Charon, perhaps you should say.”

Eyes fell on me. I pursed my lips as I stared back at him, my chest rising and falling uncomfortably. He held my gaze steady as I did not speak, and let silence extend in the room. In all honesty I was just pissed off at him bringing me into this little club of his

“Char …?” Nyx asked, confused. “What is going on?”

Morningstar paused a little, letting there be time for me to speak. When I made no move to look away he began to open his mouth.

“She-”

“It turns out Selena is, after all, my biological daughter,” I said quietly.

There were two distinctive gasps - one high and ecstatic, the other lower and shocked. My two sisters stared at me as I looked up at them from the table, the mixture of emotions upon my face showing the anxiety, concern, confusion and hope. Hemera, who was closest to me, leant over and placed a hand on my arm. She had to lean rather far as my hands were bound some distance away.

“I have a niece,” she said with a beam.

“We have a niece,” Nyx reminded her, and she smiled at me. “Congratulations, brother. Or … commiserations. It's a shock, I know. I am here to talk if you wish.”

“Thank you,” I said, sincerely, to both of them.

“With this in mind,” Morningstar continued, “Vitus, your concerns over my brother can be satiated a little, as he has a firmer reason to be here now.” He smiled elegantly, and I tightened my jaw, glaring at him once more.

My good mood was killed in a matter of seconds.

“Just to confirm,” he said carefully. “Charon
is staying, whether anyone likes it or not. Yes, it will be the first time I have ever had an individual who has not sworn loyalty to me on my small council, but neither have I had an individual so useful to me.”

My brows were high with surprise. It was a compliment and a fact I did not care for. Therefore I felt a great many things about it. I began to murmur. “Morningstar …”

“Back to business,” he leant forwards again. “It has come to light that Morté does not know about the impending apocalypse.”

The reaction I had been expecting came. Various gasps came, as well as wide eyes. I watched their reactions, assessing them carefully, and was not surprised to find most of them were shocked. Nyx was more quietly considering than anything and her eyes came to rest on me.

“Of course, there we have the advantage, as I began my own research into the prophecies some time ago, and the Morai, the three women of fate, happen to be my siblings with whom I had an understanding with, and was watching with care. Now, when they disappeared I had happened upon Charon and was keeping him, first as simply an interest, but now … we will get to him. Firstly,” he eyed the three advisors, the two elves and the human, then our two sisters, and deliberately left out me, “all of you will not speak of the apocalypse or of what research is being done, without careful consideration. I placed into the deal a note of information exchange specifically about impending doom, and so there is no reason to tell Morté."

There was no answer. All of them simply blinked back, taking his word as command, and not needing to wait for him to ask them to do so.

After a moment of silence he grunted, and waved a hand at me. “Charon,” he said.

I paused, and raised my brow. “What?”

“Tell them what you have discovered. What you have researched about the apocalypse, and the Calamity.”

“How - how much?” I asked, with a small smile, “there's a lot of it, if you want me to go into the various theories, the histories, the social impacts, the scientific outcomes, the-”

“Just the basics,” Morningstar interrupted, sharply. “What you have explained to me.”

My eyes danced over him, studying his resolute and proud expression, before I pulled in my breath. I leant back, turning to the crowd before me and starting as I would a lecture.

“Five millennia ago, the Great Calamity claimed much of our world. It destroyed much of what we know, most specifically the Old Gods, whom we were created to serve.”

“So the stories go,” Morningstar commented.

I shook my head at him. “No, Morn. So they state. I was one of the first to come out of Khaos, alongside Hypnos and Eros. We were given very direct instructions from Erebus himself.”

Morningstar scowled, looked away from me and flourished his hand. I sighed, and continued. “The first civilisations blossomed, inclusive of the Neanderthals, the Svek-kal, the Marshpeople - but when the Calamity came they all were wiped from existence, alongside their gods who loved them dearly.” I paused, threading my fingers together. “Few remember it, but I have recently discovered that there were prophecies before it. The Svek-kal, a tribe from what is now northern Raiaera have friezes showing them dreaming of the end of the world, being guided on how to avoid it, and then surviving it. I found they went north, and am still trying to find their descendants.” I paused, and looked at Morningstar. “I need time for a trip to Salvar soon by the way. And some for the Raiaera forest. And another one south, into Tular.”

“Char,” he snapped.

“Anyway,” I continued to my captive audience. “From their findings, and my own readings, I found they were warned of two things - fire from the sky and water from below. For those of us who remember the Great Calamity …”

“Ash,” Hemera blinked. “Lots of it. Like black rain.”

“Falling flames, and rocks,” Nyx nodded. “It destroyed buildings with one pebble-sized hailstone, that was not a hailstone.”

“Exactly,” I grunted, “and lots of violence, war because of it, anger. Possibly you hid, but truly no one had any idea what was going on because the Old Gods we served were gone …”

I breathed out and aimed the simple action of running a hand through my hair automatically in stress. I had forgotten the state I was in though, and ended up pulling on the chain. There was a fair bell sound that filled the air and I seethed as the power within my body began to protest loudly. Growling, I caused awkwardness to fill the room as I yanked hard on the chain, causing the wood to scream and begin to splinter as I forced more give.

“Charon …” Morningstar warned.

“Oh fuck off,” I scowled. “I just want more give. It's-” I broke off and gave up, adjusting my seat to deal with what I had. “Anyway. The Old Gods went, leaving the Thayne to rise up, and after them other pantheons and so on. But it seemed that people forgot about the fact that there were some cultures that had forewarning of the Calamity and acted on it. They knew what was coming and when, they knew what to do when it did. They, supposedly, survived, even as it reached through some gaps of the hells and touched Hadia.”

I nodded my head at Morningstar, “with his insistence, I have been following up on the old and the new. The new prophecies seem to be closely identical to the old, suggesting that the same thing will happen. So far I know is that a massive meteor, or comet will pass overhead, and either could fall or pass us by. What is definite to happen, however, is the world's largest super eruption that has been seen in years. 'Nyotamkia.’”

“Meaning …” Morningstar impatiently said.

“Volcano,” I replied. “And two days I figured out where it will erupt.”

His lips parted. He sat up immediately, staring. “Where?”

“Morningstar, before you go on, I need to make these journeys. They could be vital in the survival of many people.”

“Where, Char?”

I twisted away from him and focused in the centre of the table, where all waited on me with baited breath.

“Lornius,” I quietly said.

[Professor Charles]

“You see why I have to keep him,” Morningstar was muttering in the corner, facing Vitus, Marlina and Grimsaine. I could hear him perfectly, and he was making only the most limited attempt to talk quietly.

“Of course, my lord,” Grimsaine replied, softly, eyes on me, “he could be what saves us all.”

“Though I still disagree with the decision I bring him into your small council, sir,” Vitus murmured, “You are correct. He is one particular being you cannot let out of your hold.”

I leant back, staring at the finely patterned, white washed and chandeliered ceiling. Still, I was attached to the thrice-damned chair, and after my exploit Morningstar had dug the chains harder in, so that there was no give at all, just the manacles and the side of the seat. With my legs up on the table I gazed upwards, breathing slowly and counting the seconds go for the time by that we had said we would be back for Selena. So far we were at an hour and fourteen minutes.

“All you said was true?” Hemera whispered.

Glancing down I saw her, fingers wrapped around a mug of tea. She was on the edge of her seat, eyes wide in her pretty features. For a moment I paused, hearing Morningstar respond to his more mortal advisors before I answered her.

“Yes, I am sorry to say I believe it is,” I nodded, “I'm not sure when still, or where the best place to go is, but I believe my research trips will allow that.”

Hemera pursed her lips, before nodding. “I'll persuade Lord Morningstar that they should,” she smiled. “Nyx and I will.”

“I want to get out of here,” I grumbled. “Get back home.”

She smiled slightly, “brother, you're smarter than all of us. You could be the single most important thing that has ever happened to any of us. We could survive an apocalypse because of you … why do you think brother is so passionate about keeping you around?”

“Because of my charming good looks and my excellent sense of humour,” I grinned.

She laughed, “I missed you, brother.”

The last time I had seen her was one my rare exploits out of the underworld of Rahl and into the mortal realms. I had seen her, Nyx and some others, at an impromptu family gathering in a secretive moment Sephora had managed to give me. I had seen Morningstar then as well, but only the back of him, before he moved away and I had had to go, back to my cruelty of a life.

“Where do you live now, on the mortal realm?” I asked.

She smiled. “Not too far away from you actually. Eluceliniel - Nyx and I share a home and manage a few operations within the city for Morningstar. We keep his favour within the court.”

My brows rose as I looked from her to Nyx. My other sister was staring into a glass of wine. When drinks had been offered I politely refused, privately deciding so on grounds that I would look like an idiot, with my hands bound as they were.

“Nyx?” I asked, “you alright?”

She glanced up. “Hmm? Oh,” she stared at me, then shook herself. “Yes, I am fine. Sorry brother.”

“You were staring into space.”

“Oh,” she paused. “I was thinking about Geras actually.”

I glanced back over to Morningstar, who was still talking, although lower now, and staring at me. My eyebrow raised at him, and he paused in his speech, before looking away.

“Geras is strong,” I commented.

Hemera nodded, agreeing. “He is indeed, he'll be fine, Nyx.”

“Do we know anything about his intended … what was her name?”

Keeping my eyes still on Morningstar's conversation, I paused. “Brigette. I …” smiling, I realised I could do something, “I can ask Selena about her.”

Hemera and Nyx began to agree, with small gasps. “Oh that would be a good idea …”

My concentration though had drifted to the other conversation. “Sir, it would be beneficial simply keeping him here, permanently,” Virus was leaning in, speaking in a low voice. “Forget the other work he does.”

“Indeed, sir. He refuses to serve, he refuses to serve. Take back his powers, control him, use him.”

My jaw tightened, heart beginning to thump hard. The magic within me, so long not in my body began to writhe, angry and violent. Swirling at my heart it hissed and growled, telling me that it would not go without a fight. I would not be a slave again.

Morningstar looked over at me with a thoughtful expression. “It is … possible.”

“Fuck this,” I hissed, and I pulled down my feet from the table, letting them land on the floor with a solid thump. I had made a deal with him - my power, and my freedom for teaching, in exchange for helping him. For saving his stupid world, and his idiotic ass.

“Brother …” Hemera said, shocked, her eyes widening.

“I'm fucking going home,” I spat, my hands twisting into fists, “before anyone else controls me. I'm not a fucking puppet and-”

My anger came in a brilliant wave. Rising from my core it responded to my intense, sudden desire it flooded my system, yelling out to me as two lovers long lost, not reunited. Indeed, it had been within me already for some weeks, and I had called onto it when calm, but now my fury summoned it instead of my will. Unexpectedly it rose, the fine black darkness from which I was born, denied to me fully for a thousand years. First, Morté had taken a little. Then, more, and finally he had used his wretches to steal every core of divinity from me until not even my strange empathy, nor my strength. I had been so weak, so invalid, and it had taken me years - years! - to learn how to cope. But now …

Now, I had more power than I had needed. Destruction indeed - unbidden, in a storm of power, it rose to my palms. BOOM! It exploded into life, small black pebbles of magical energy. My eyes widened as I said or willed nothing, and it fled right towards the source of my current anxiety - the restraints.

The sound of chairs rapidly scraping away came from beside me as the magic slid underneath them, going into a liquid state. A second passed. Then there was a SMASH as the unbreakable manacles suddenly burst into a thousand pieces.

“What the-”

I was as much aghast as the rest of them. My heart pounded as I stood there, watching the smashed pieces fall to the ground, and then begin to disintegrate as they did. Fine metal dust floated upwards as I looked down to see still rivulets of fine, black, crackling energy that looked like it opened to a good encircling my wrists - just where the manacles had been. It was blinking out of existence, its purpose spent, as all my magic did. I left out a slow breath, my lips parting, and more importantly it seems, my anger subsiding.

I reached for my magic. It came to me this time at will, bursting out my palms in energy surges. It folded and condescended from my pores, and zoomed into one small ball that landed into my right palm.

The same wrist was caught. Partly I was dragged as he yanked me away from the table, then pulled me around to face him. As shocked as I was he stared at the small, slowly rotating ball of energy at my palm, happily doing nothing.

“That should not have happened …” he murmured.

Folding my fingers around the energy I quickly yanked my hand out of his hold. The rest of the room was dead silent, I was not going to be. On his right palm, I knew, was a feature that looked like a wound. Through it he could steal people's life source, energy and magic, store it for his own use, or give it to others. It was what he had used to at first give me back my abilities. Give me back this oddity that had just struck.

“Char!” he barked.

I glared at him, “I don't know what the fuck just happened, to start. Secondly, you are not taking it from me, I've been too long without it.”

“It's never … done that before?”

I ran my tongue over my lips briefly, and then admittedly shook my head. “No. I was furious, and it just dealt with the matter at hand. Maybe you shouldn't talk so openly about going back on our deals and enslaving me again, like he did.”

“Brother-”

“No. And this time, Morningstar, I'm actually going to defend myself.” I seethed into his face. “You want me to save your multitude of little kingdoms. Fine. I will, but not as you slave. Currently I'd rather die than be what I was. Which was nothing.”

Morningstar's lips pursed as he considered me. Slowly he breathed as around us the world was frozen, a framed painting, a view of one scene of time. I kept the ball of energy in my palm, ready to literally aim it at myself. Even though I'd be awake again in six hours, and in that time he'd be able to do what he wanted, he knew he would have the most reluctant part of me than has ever been.

No more Charon used to being a prisoner. I would be cold, silent, frigid.

“Everyone leave the room,” he said quietly.

“But my lord …”

“Just do it, Vitus,” he barked. “He cannot kill me. I am far more powerful still than he.”

Of that I had no doubt. Steadily, I kept my eyes on him, and him on mine. We heard shuffling of feet, scraping of chairs. A gentle hand touched both of our arms and Hemera simply said:

“You're both my brothers.”

[Professor Charles]

“So,” he said quietly.

I sucked in my breath and turned my eyes away from him. Sliding back a foot I twisted, and began to take a few slow paces away, my hand still an upturned fist.

“Charon, I cannot let you just … be around my halls as you are. These are my people I need to protect.”

“Protect them from me?!” I replied, aghast. “Morn, you certainly don't know me if you think I would hurt them.”

He paused. “Well, I was not sure of your personality anymore when I first found you again. You could have been a mass murderer waiting to happen.”

“Oh it's been tempting, believe me. You're a real dickhead.”

“And since then I have been in your company several times when you have your powers and you have never used them on me,” he was watching me carefully.

I frowned at him, and shrugged. “No. Why would I?”

“To be rid of me. To be free once more.”

“Morningstar the whole empathy thing you don't get … I don't destroy just for the sake of it. My whole purpose was to destroy only what needed to be,” I glanced at my hand still before me. “Like Morté. Damn him being here. I could have ended hiim.”

“You would have failed and pulled us into an unstoppable war,” Morningstar growled. Then he gestured at my hand. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

I was silent for a moment before I unfolded my fingers. There lay the globe of power still, small and unmoving, resting into my palm. Frowning a little at it I bent my palm upwards, watching as it stayed, even when the gradient when allow it to roll, were it anything but a ball of energy.

“Charon.”

“Anger. I was angry,” I replied, furrowing my brow as I then willed the ball to rise into the air, and it did. Then it stopped exactly when I said. I removed my hand and it hung there in the air, like a globe of black light. I looked back over to him and saw immense discomfort with his body and his face, so I plucked it from the air.

Turning around to him I folded my arms, the ball still in my clasp. “When your pet Vitus-”

“He's not a pet, and I would ask you not to call him such.”

“When the elf started speaking about taking my power away, reducing me down to nothing, taking away my job, anger built. Everything we had agreed on so far - I was furious. And my anger was directed mainly at what was frustrating me at the time - those lovely little manacles you like to have me in and …” I huffed and unfolded my arms to look at the ball again. “Apparently she has a will of her own when my emotions are high.”

“'She’?” he quoted.

“Well she has a personality now, so,” I stared at her and then looked over at a remaining cup on the great round table. It was metal, seemed to be empty. Twisting my body around to it I paused, before looking at Morningstar. “I'm just aiming for the cup.”

He narrowed his eyes but stepped back. “So your volatile emotions can now affect your power to the point that it can be outwith your control.”

“She's still within my control,” I said, knowing immediately for it to be true. I looked at the cup, and then willed the globe of dark energy to fire from my palm. No sooner had I summoned the thought that it flew out, noiseless and dark, like an arrow from a bow. It collided with the cup and there was a shattering sound as the metal exploded.

I turned back to him as the cup was utterly destroyed, hunks of metal, not burnt or metal, just broken lying on the ground. “I wanted to go home. There was something stopping me. My magic reacted to that, to my desires, because some idiots were saying that they wanted to ruin my life all over again.”

“Ruin your life?” he asked slowly.

“Take away what power I have just gained back. Take away every freedom I've worked for.”

Morningstar folded his arms. “I could still keep you here as a prisoner.”

“But as a slave? Because that's where this is going now, Morn. That is what I will be to you,” I glared at him, pointed at him. “Isn't that one of your 'core laws’. No slavery?”

His lips pursed. “It … is.”

“Yet you want me to still work for you?!” I shook my head, “you're exasperating, and a megalomaniac, only wanting power for yourself.”

“Power in the correct hands, is the term I believe I use …”

“As in, mostly yours.”

“Well someone has to oversee it.” He joked but he was still wary of me, and about what apparently I could now do. Perhaps his manacles had simply not been tough enough - but then after what had happened once in my office when I had easily snapped a chain, I was sure he would have made adjustments. It had been successful thus far.

“I do not trust you,” he said, matter of factly.

“Yet you trust what comes out of my mouth, my research. It's -” I broke off and shook my head, knowing that anything could happen now. He could kill me, still, on the spot, even with my apparent new application to my powers. That way he could see what had gone wrong, take the ability from me, throw me in that cell, cause my entire life I had built to fall apart once again.

I breathed out, looking down with confusion and loss at my hands. I had become a father today, and I had discovered something new in my powers I had never experienced before. Why now? Was it because she and I had been reconnected? Was it a development, a change instigated by Morningstar's strange ways? A mutation perhaps, that had occurred over time, or an adaptation to suit what life I now lived. Being the man who would never bow his head to anyone ever again.

“It seems we need to construct a new deal,” he said quietly.

“Right now, Morningstar,” I looked at him, “I want to go and spend time with my daughter. I've given you all the information I have so far regarding my research - the trips I told you of may bring me more.”

His lips pursed. “When are you going?”

“In two, maybe three weeks,” I shrugged. “Raiaera first. Then I might head north from there, there's a ruin of a temple, possibly connected to Jomil.”

“I might need you,” he said slowly.

“Then come get me politely,” I shrugged, staring at him. “I'll work with you, Morningstar, not for you.” Slightly I smiled, “being your farcical father in law earns me some respect.”

He watched me for a moment, then moved his hand. Out of his pocket he pulled a piece of white quartz, “this will get you home. Not back, however. I'm not giving you the location of this court.”

“Yet,” I replied.

I waited until he held it out, a smile on my lips. My brother looked at me, uncertain, for the first time in his recent existence being encouraged to construct a relationship where he could not be a dictator. One that was mutually beneficial.

When the quartz was close enough to me I reached for it, and smiled briefly to him. “You have your spies anyway around me. That Sandoran Adar for one.”

“Do I have your word you won't go making alliances with others,” he said, holding onto the tail end of the white stone. I tried to pull it from his fingers, but his hold was tight on it. “You won't tell anyone of your research.”

“I will be careful of whom I speak about it with, if that is what you mean,” I replied. “But we are talking of the literal apocalypse here.”

“Yes, and when we have enough information, I will be the one to lead an exodus to safety.”

I shrugged. “Sure. Fine. You can play god, as per the terms of our original agreement.”

“And …”

“And, I won't work with anyone else. Alright?” With that final word he allowed me to wrench the quartz finally from him and I balanced it in my hand, waiting for his final reply.

“Good,” he told me. “If I find out you did …”

“Then I'll spend eternity in your dungeon. I know,” and I curled my fingers around the stone. I poured into it my will, and I was transported away from that place.

I landed in my kitchen, to the scent of sweets and the sound of a boiling kettle. In a small flash of light I appeared, and I heard a small gasp, then saw a figure. She came to about my shoulder, and had silky, long black hair. Pale horns, similar to mine, curled back and slightly upward to the ceiling

“You're back,” she murmured.

Breath rushed out of my lungs. Shaking myself I looked around the kitchen, assessing the stove, the heavy clay sink, and the cupboards. Beyond that was my living room with its many books, the reading chair and where Morningstar had taken me. Where I had begun the short section of this chapter.

“Yes,” I grunted.

“Are you … okay?”

I paused for a moment, and took in a breath. After all she had last seen me being led away in chains.

“I'm fine. I … discovered new things. He took me to his small council, which was different.”

I looked at her, wondering if I should enlighten her about the impending apocalypse. If Morté had known nothing, then it was likely she did also. Naturally, I would protect her come what may, even if that meant never telling her what was going on. In some ways I agreed with my brother's decision to keep the truth of the apocalypse from the masses - what I was discovering, after all, was based on the Calamity, and prophecies that were loosely worded at best. Interpretation of them was a whole art in itself, an one wrong word could mean an entire city destroyed. I had to be certain to avoid mass panic, and keen before I made any rash decisions. Slowly I breathed, and I looked away, my eyes moving to the kettle as I watched it come to the full boil.

“I was wondering while you were … indisposed.”

“Mmm?” I grunted, reaching for mugs.

“Can I …” she smiled slightly. “Can I move in?”