Crenel, the Prison Planet

((Sorry, all, withdrawls again... D:))

[(<XD Sorry, I just can't help but notice how all serious and tense and dramatic this is, an how my little scene was almost like it came straight out of a cartoon.>)]

((Lol. That's how Verax is, though, so it's fine. xD))

(OFC)

Awwwww. =) What a nice way to cheer Archie up.
Time to make everything silvery and sunshiny again.

(IC)

The weary Alteriian felt defeated. Abandoned. He had not saved... her... he had spent a thousand years hoping that she had somehow escaped, knowing in his heart she still lived, but in his mind that it was nearly impossible for her to escape. Then he found her; and then he lost her again.

It was in these throes that Archelaus was caught, haunted by what he had thought just transpired. Claiming victory, but at such a cost he wished it was a defeat. Alive to the world, but dead inside; just enough to see the reasons for his own remorse. Caught in fear, like a ship trapped in Charybdis' rage, to be sucked down to a watery grave until the end of time itself.

But in the darkness, that twilight, that Cimmerian shade, there was a flicker. A tiny gleam. A sparkle out in the murk and gloom... it crawled and it chiseled forward. Toward him the spark glowed. It grew closer and closer, hewing through metal and stone alike, gleaming with hope-though still weak. Struggling with the last vestiges of strength to make it somewhere... somewhere safe. Struggling toward him. Toward Archelaus, dispelling the thunderclouds and veils of fog as it journeyed onward, ever onward.

An ethereal aura that desperately was looking for something in the rubble, something and someone to hold onto. It seemed hesitant, but afraid. Looking for comfort in familiar arms, searching for something that it once knew but could not find.

"That light..." Archelaus' mind thought, the weight of a world on his mind, and the weight of sadness on his chest. "Could it... be?" Finally the light reached the Alteriian, at long last accomplishing its goal, at the end of a long journey. Free of the expectations of travel, but unsure as to the end result.

Archelaus felt a touch barely reach out to his rueful mind. A gossamer brush, the hands extended of one person to another in empathy. The very same that had plunged cold steel into him only minutes before. Before his brain could think, his mind pulled away in automatic response...

But Archelaus realized who it was, even from the briefest of contact. How could he not? It was Aurora, the women he loved. No amount of pain could make him give that up. No amount of struggle or conflict could make him forget it, not even if the forces of the universe conspired against him would Archelaus give up on her. Maybe love was arduous, even agonizing at times, but never would Archelaus abandon her.

So he opened the gates once more, he let loose the floods and broke down the walls. He didn't care about the pain. Pain would come, pain would go... Life and death were cycles that seemed to never end, that wouldn't end, until Narushah bid the universe to cease, but he would stay with Aurora until that very day.

And so Archelaus held her, against the horror of the last few weeks which must have been an eternity for her. He held her against the pain she had endured, against the broken pieces of glass that were scattered throughout her mind. He held her against fear, against mistrust, against pain. He felt the damage in her, like an orchard after the hurricane, time beaing a weak salve for an open wound, but it did not matter. He was her protector, and nothing could change that.

Aurora asked for forgiveness, but she had already been forgiven.

((Awesome. Every time I see your writing style come out, it's absolutely beautiful. xD))

[Blarg. I typed up a reply for everything, and then I had to get off again. NOW THE MOMENT'S PASSED, DARN IT. >.< Well, crap. Guess I'll type something else up. Oh, and lol, thanks D'garar, for keeping me in the thread, slightly. xD ]

Zyria had reached for her old messenger when Lurinia had shared her.....interesting facts, but then completely forgotten about it once the fight had peaked, when Archelaus and Robless were thrown back, and Aurora exploded into light.

The two forms next to Aurora, with her little research on the species, Zyria believed to be Kazesqui, but she guessed they'll figure that out later on. The room calmed, painfully, as everyone tried to recover from what happened. D'garar immediately headed for Robless, but Zyria slowly made her way over, helping up anyone that had been blown back, handing off injured men to their medics. She met up with Robless and D'garar just as she heard the question arise, "Aurora, what are those?"

Zyria placed a hand on D'garar's shoulder, gently reminding him. "While I will say they seem quite Kazesqui, I think we should let Aurora recover before confronting her with any questions. What we witnessed was much worse than it looked, and I think we can all agree it looked quite painful and terrorizing."

Zyria turned to Robless, noting the damage from, well, EVERYTHING. "Gracious, Robless, I'm surprised you're still standing, look at you. There's being strong, and there's hurting yourself. Now, sit." All she would have had to do was wag her finger, and the scolding would have been comical. Instead, though, she turns, clipping off her medic kit. "While whatever mental damage done with heal itself slowly over time, that throw was not kind to you. And if the damage from Aurora spread from mental to physical, I can treat that, too. D'garar, you can either help me with this, or do something you deem necessary. I suggest you leave Aurora to her moment, though."

[Lol, that's right, Zyria's right to the point. No taking in the moment, TIME TO DO HER JOB]

As Archelaus' mind accepted hers, she felt her heart melt with the joy of her reacceptance into his mind and spirit. Her body shivered with happiness even though she was still hot to the touch- obviously Archelaus didn't care, as long as she was with him and loved him and wanted him still. She instantly opened her mind to him as well, letting him feel for himself the damage that now plagued her. She knew he could not repair it... and there were still so many things about their relationship that she was now uncertain of. But the simple fact of that moment was that he was holding her, comforting her, and even if her memories and better judgement told her to go against him, she could not. She almost could not explain it, and so she didn't try.

She just held herself close to him, remembering the joy and love and happiness that having this man's arms around her had always brought her in the little, day-to-day memories that the parasite had not bothered to corrupt. There was still pain, still hurt of betrayal, but Tam showed Archelaus unhesitatingly the memories that brought her such fear and such anger and such pain. She showed him how her memories had been twisted to be things that they never were- Archelaus condemning the Kazesqui in selfishness so that he and his own people could escape, leaving their sister race behind to be slaughtered. She showed him how she had been made to think that he hated her, wanted away from her, and thought that she had died at Snowdove.

She showed him how she believed that he had sentenced her to the Kran-Til'mok in order to kill her and get rid of her once and for all, but that only Naruashah had saved her. And then... how he broke their link, because he'd rather drift aimlessly, forever in lonliness and nothingness than stand to be around her another day.

She proved to him that the memories were there, as real as any of the ones Archelaus knew to be untainted. She showed him how it was impossible for her not to believe them.

And then she begged him to show her the truth. To relive their moments together, sharing the experiences with her all over again so that she could know that she was wrong. She told him that despite what she was forced to believe, she didn't want to believe it. She wanted to trust him, wanted to be able to love him unconditionally again, with total certainty that he would never hurt her, the way he seemed to feel towards her. She pleaded for him to show her the truth, to let her be saved from the cruel, twisted memories that made her want to run from him until he could never find her again.

All of this she did without uttering a single word, sharing her mind with his as she was. At some point during the exchange, the two warm bodies of Tam's daughters squirmed into to join the embrace, wiggling in against the two of them, acknowledging somehow that Archelaus was their father. Both born from Tam's love and struggle, but one also created from the essence of the Thel-ghan'che, the essence of darkness and evil, and one created from the Lyikos, from the essence of goodness and light. But both snuggled into their parents' arms with no bias or judgement, too young to know or understand what they were.

Both Tam and Archelaus could feel their tiny, mostly empty minds as well, and the distinction between them was blantantly obvious. But even that was only background compared to Tam's desperate pleading for him to help her, to share with her their lives and show her that she could trust him, could put her faith in him, could stay in his arms for as long as she wanted and would never have to run from him or fight him again.

And then she whispered audibly,

"Show me, my love... show me that they're all lies. Prove me wrong, please..."

"No- not now!" But it was too late, the mental link between Verax and Archelaus had been reopened, and recent memories flowed through, as if forced open. In a blur of gray, a shapes and colors took form, making the helm of the Voyager, Verax's throne room, as if seen from the person sitting in the massive black throne on the back wall. The then material Lurinia was sitting next to the throne, cradling a blanketed crying infant.

"Do you regret it?" She asked, breaking the silence that was there earlier. The man in the chair whose eyes were being seen through turned down towards her.

"I regret many things, you'll have to be more specific." The voice that came out was slightly deeper than Verax's, but as this was his memory, and all people hear themselves in a slightly deeper voice than what they have, it made sense.

"Do you regret having to make this choice? If you had stayed, you could have completed your plan. You could have either died to atone for your actions in the 5th, or could have been accepted into dimensional society. Why run? Why do the one thing that presents you with failure?" She was more curious than annoyed, as she too for some reason accepted the choice he had made. The infant started to cry again, stretching and flailing his arms before Lurinia rocked hm a little more, gently singing a lullaby.

"Yes, that plan failed, and why did I make it? Because if I died then, I wouldn't be around now. I get the feeling I'll be needed soon. And.... and I can't face the leaders. Not now. I could never look any of them in the eyes after all I've done. Do I regret it? Regret having to pick a life of suffering and evil? A life without all the things that make it worth living? Of course, but I made my choice long ago, I can't back out now, and I can't think too much on what I wish could have happened." The eyes looked straight ahead, out into space.

"Those like me, if we try to live in our memories, or fantasies of what we wished could have or will happened, we become lost to oblivion, lost to the abyss. We lose the present and push away those we should keep closer to not hurt ourselves. I can't be that weak, for those who have been lost, and those who will be taken, I can't lose faith, I can't ever give up." He continued.

"Did you love her? Aurora?" Lurinia wasn't looking at Verax, but still focused on their child. "In the short time you knew her you-"

"No. I told you, I meant it when I said I didn't want anyone else to know that kind of pain. You know the only women that I-"

"Now what would you say if I told you it wouldn't make me feel hurt or look at you differently if you had?" The two sat in silence for a short while.

"I... love what she stands for. What she embodies. She has... incomprehensible strength in will. I guess, I love what she is, who she is, but not her. I believe there are many things in life that I love, but...." He looked down at their recently born child. Amazing really, to compensate for how often they died, because of their war-central culture, the reproductive and fetal development processes for Myrioniths took only a week or two. Their little boy, they had named him Arch, and in doing so, had finally accomplished their race's most desperate desire, a child who could choose his destiny. This was the first Myrionith to not have a task. "I think I know what I love the most." Lurinia smiled up at him. They both knew pain, they both knew loss, but they also both found strength in each other, could depend on each other, and found from and gave happiness to each other.

"But... now what? What do we do now?" Her voice instantly made it clear that this was bothering her the most.

"Now... we begin restoring balance. There is still too much light and order, and even if the universe looks at me as a coward, or a madman, or a villain needing to be brought down and killed, we have to. I will be the darkness the light needs to shine brighter. I will be the chaos that life needs to maintain order." He spoke the words with confidence, but sorrow, knowing he had to and did accept the words as truth, but one doesn't have to like the truth.

"We have to start expanding. We have to start ruling. We will begin to reestablish the Myrionith Empire, city by city, planet by planet, system by system. We will prevail, because we must. Just as Archelaus won because he had to save Aurora, so will we prevail because the universe needs us to bring it to balance." He returned his gaze to space.

"You're just going to repeat history, you're going to reenact the Early Wars, I.. I don't want th-" Lurinia started.

"No, I won't. The difference is, in the Early Wars, Robless was being manipulated by the parasite, I'm making my own choices, I'm deciding my fate. Besides.... the Stalker Separatists are going to be a big enemy for everyone. We might band together to resist them, and if we win, then... we might begin expanding through acceptable means." Verax explained.

"But if we're trying to restore balance, shouldn't we help the Separatists? Wouldn't that be aiding darkness?" Lurinia questioned, worried, normally Verax would never miss that.

"Yes... I suppose you're right, still, we should wait and make a decision when the time comes-" Then hot searing pain shot through Verax, and he doubled over and fell forward, sliding and bumping down the steps up to his throne until he smashed into the floor.

"Veary!" Lurinia quickly put Arch down into his cradle and rushed over to Verax.

"Ngh-" He was writhing in pain, fire shooting through his face and stabbing through his mind. What is-?

The darkness must persist. It's yours now for resisting fate, you can't resist. You made the choice to bear life's sins. Until there is balance, you will have this curse forever within!

"Please, what's going on?! Don't go! Please!" Lurinia's cries were drowned out by pain.

Again, pain shot across Verax's face, but this time, something broke through, he heard his son crying. Arch.... Lurinia..... Archelaus..... Aurora...... Robless.... Zyria...... Caz.... Dreston.... I won't die on you! This universe needs us, and I will not die before we have our final confrontation! All the pain subsided quickly after that, and Verax pushed himself off the floor. Lurinia sighed in relief.

"Oh thank goodness you're alrigh- my God... what happened to your face?" Lurina went back to being worried. She gently brushed her hand against his left cheek, and Verax turned around. He walked over to the front wall and looked at his reflection in the glass. He looked.... almost the same, except now the veins in the left side of his face had become more pronounced, larger and slightly pulsating, all of the veins that had become pronounced were heading towards his eye, but faded stopped before they got halfway there. However, the must unnerving part of this was... they were black, and they would every five or ten seconds beat in unison.

[OFC]

What on earth... Verax...!?

[IC]

Archelaus felt her asking him to make it right again, to prove to her that he had not given up on her, that he loved her, that he had never forgotten her. That somehow, out there in the crystal greys of memory, through field and forest, over hill and dale, that love didn't end, didn't stop somewhere. That he didn't leave her somewhere in some forgotten glade.

He obliged, with all his heart.

He showed her those days, so many years ago, during the war. How much the Alteriians had tried to take the brunt of the attack for the Kazequi, and how their forces failed against the marauders. He showed her how much the Alteriians gave, how much they suffered, how much they surrendered to the Kazequi. He finally showed her the Battle of the Snow dove, how determined he was to lead the Alteriians to their final defense of the Kazequi when Aurora ordered his fleets to retreat herself before Archelaus could command his vessels. When at last he arrived from the ground-war on their homeworld to his command ship; it was too late. He showed her his tears and his cries as ships left the Kazequi to guard their escape, the blue-hued people's loneliness and tears as they traveled, listless, through empty space. Half dead without the Kazequi.

He showed her his confusion at the battle, the screams of Alteriians who felt their Neiedes die. The suffering. It would have been better to be dying in their place. He showed her his hope, his sickly, wishful hope, his undying hope that somehow against the odds, out of the millions meeting their deaths, that Aurora would be spared. He felt the sadness around him grow in intensity until it was almost breathable in the air. Even looking back at the memory of those hours caused Archelaus pain. It was horror, pure horror, waiting for the nerve rending shock, the life ending shock. To be without Aurora would to be without life.

He leaped forward through years of his own loneliness and emptiness, each year, despite the lack of the mind-rending twist, that his beloved was lost somewhere in the hugeness of the universe, either in death, or in mind. He couldn't go looking for her as he wanted to because his people needed him. And what if he found...

He showed her how he had not recognized her as Lady Somnis, in different form, and dimensions away, how he had become unfamiliar with the Link, how he had never actually tried to touch her mind. He showed her his extreme confusion when she appeared on Vertrus, how he had prayed and prayed for her, as he sent her to do the unthinkable. He had still not known who she was. The memory was dim, repulsed for the constant pain it had provided in the last hundreds of years...
Even not knowing her identity, he had still prayed for her, and sent her strength from himself and the council, hoping for her people and his that she survived the ordeal. How he had no choice by the honor-laws his people and hers had set so long ago.

At last, despite the raw torture of the memory, he showed her the truth about the link. He knew that it would pain her deeply to know how much he had suffered, but the memory needed to be repaired. He showed her how overcome he was with his own emotions, despite years of meditation and control, that he virtually exploded in the attempt to keep her safe. How he had thrown aside even his good friends in his quest to reach her. To keep her safe. to protect her. The disbelief at the parasite, festering in her mind. How he had pleaded with her, begged her, that he could take this burden away from her. To stay near Aurora in her time of sorrow, but that she would not let him.
That finally, not in hate, but in love, that he had broken the thing he held dearest to his heart to keep her alive.

He let her tear through his memories at will, looking up everything and anything she wished. Disbelief often struck her mind at the things he showed her, pain. The thoughts that he was tricking her somehow passed through her mind over and over again, but Archelaus was patient as the waves against the coast, as the desert waiting for rain. He gave to her day after day, year after year of his deepest thoughts. Every motivation, and every action built out of nothing but loving intent and a loving mind.

He found himself surprised at the depth at which he was able to search, but defeat was not an option. To every question he showed her two answers, rooted in love. To every disbelief, three memories of trust and faith. To every accusation of betrayal, his feelings of love and nothing but love, with the memories to back it up.
It was more pure and crystal than the mountain rivers, for he had been nothing but faithful and loving.

He explained and he begged, he pleaded and he hoped, he wished and he prayed...

He would not let her slip away. Here Archelaus was, and he was here to give Aurora back the world. He would guard her, trust her, have faith in her. He took the evil in her mind, the twisted corruption, and crushed it between the grasp of fingers that shook with light.

He would show her what love truly meant, because he couldn't bear the thought of her any other way.

He would give to her the castle she longed for, the strength she needed so that she wouldn't need to be strong anymore. He would give her the comfort she wanted, the place of refuge and trust she desired. He would give to her everything she asked, because his love demanded no less.

She had to believe him...

"Aurora..." he spoke, the first words. "I love you."

Tam tore through Archelaus' mind, searching for any differences between what she remembered and what had to have happened. The thought did occur that he could just be showing her what he wanted her to believe, but through all her searching she found no trace of barriers to keep her away from his memories. She knew how to find his walls, even the ones he'd made most difficult to see, because she was already familiar with his mind.

But as he showed her the pain... the pain that had burdened him every single day of the near-millenia he'd been without her. She felt it as he had felt it, as real and stinging and heartbreaking as it had been before he'd found her. And only half of it was her feeling it through him. She felt that pain herself, remembering the trauma of the battle and remembering that by the time it had ended and she had gotten away, she had watched so many of her friends die that she felt broken inside. She remembered thinking that she should've died with them on the field of the battle, and then that somehow... she was glad that she had lived.

But only glad for him. She had seen firsthand the pain of losing your Neiede as her friends all fell apart around her when their other halves were slaughtered in the earlier battles. She was glad that he would not have to feel the pain of her death, feel the sudden emptiness that would flood his heart as soon as she was gone. She was glad that he wouldn't have to grieve for her, knowing her dead, glad that he would never have to know that pain, the pain of being utterly alone. Because as long as she was alive, he would never run out of hope.

And least... that's what she'd expected. But she still understood what he'd done- not ever extended his mind to touch the stretched, thin string of their bond for fear of what he might find. He didn't touch it because he worried that there would be no one on the other side. He had been too afraid to learn that she was gone.

In response to his pain, even though it was pain of the past, she reached out with her mind and clutched their link tightly between them, giving it a slight tug to let him know that she was here to stay. Then she went back to his memories. And as she went through them, one at a time, she restructured them and catagorized them and catalogued them in her mind, forming them as she would see them, from her point of view. She created them as elaborate masks to cover the false memories that she had. She could not destroy those memories, for they were already there, already established and rooted in her mind. But she could try to forget about them. She could use the new, manufactured memories to build walls that would keep them away from her... she knew it wouldn't last forever, and... she knew both she and Archelaus would have to be ready for what would happen if her walls failed.

But... that wasn't what she wanted to focus on. She wanted to focus on life, now that she knew she could trust him.

"I love you too, beloved..."

She pulled her daughters close to her, nuzzling them both, treasuring them like a bright pearl and a dark ruby, then presented them forwards towards Archelaus, almost... proudly. She was silently asking for his love and approval, despite what the two children were born of, despite the evil inside one of them and the light inside the other. She asked him to love them, love them unconditionally as he loved her. No matter what they did, no matter what mistakes they made, she begged him to love them, look after them, care for them, be their father.

She looked into his eyes earnestly, filled with love and honesty and joy, and whispered, "They're ours, love..."

Archelaus did not flinch when Aurora dove through the most sensitive places in his mind, the oldest and deepest scars, the hidden and the broken fears. The parts of him he wished he could change, but would not hide for hear of appearing deceptive to her eyes. He would not hide anything from her, if he could help it. He was done with tricks and fighting, finished with the deception of evil. He had enough of that to last most people a dozen lifetimes over.

It was a dicey matter, those long and empty years without Aurora. Archelaus wasn't even sure himself what had gone through his mind... The memories were there, yet they seemed vacant and cold, instead of warm and full of life like his others.
A brazier of coals, without the flames.

He could feel Aurora's thoughts... Had he lost hope? Had he given up on her? Or was he just confused? Was it an excuse he did not send out for her, to find her, to protect her like he had so many times before? Had this great and mighty being, the High-Druid of the Alteriians for thousands of years, beacon of light, lanyard of honor, giver of life and traveler of the path... had he lost the one thing that separated him from so many others? Had he indeed lost his hope? His hope for Aurora?

Archelaus searched deep inside himself once more, even as Aurora fell away from the answer, disappointed but understanding with what she saw. But Archelaus looked anyway, because he wanted to know for himself, from his own mind, his own judgement, if he really and truly had given up hope for her. Hope... was it so important? Was it needed when you had those you love with you to face the enemy? Should it matter, when love matters so much more? But did he lose it?

Had he?

Had he truly?

Did he dare know the answer?

If he couldn't trust this one thing about himself, what else could he trust? It was the basis that Archelaus set himself upon. The whole bloody foundation, built in hard times and peace, shored up with honor and code, delved into during war and hate. Hope... the waves of the sea, the wind of the mountains. It was everything to Archelaus, as natural to him as the air he breathed.

Had he lost it? Lost hope of the one person he loved the most?
The thought loomed liked a glacier in the dark... Unknown. Dangerous.

But Aurora was still there. Still here beside him, lightly breathing, her heart beating out the moments. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Even though she believed he had lost his hope, if only by technicality, if only because of the circumstances, if only because whatever, whenever, and whyever, she was still here with him. Still loved him, somehow. Even though the wounds were still bleeding, and even though her memories would not stop screaming pain and hurt at her, she was still here.

Archelaus knew it would be hard, like swimming in silver-sand, and he knew that no matter how hard he tried he could not heal all of Aurora's injuries and griefs so quickly, but somehow, even while laying in the rubble of a prison with the debris of a war still looming outside, his enemies gone and the future uncertain, with all the pain and bloodshed of the past displayed openly and horrifically...


Somehow, Archelaus was happy with Aurora beside him.
No matter the state of her mind.
Aurora, and the Kazequi children. One of light, and one of dark. Archelaus could sense Aurora's mind, begging him to accept them. It mattered not if she had begged him, or scorned him, he would not turn away from them. He was their father, and he would accept them, teach them, nurture them, and love them just as gladly as Aurora would. Archelaus would be the father that neither Aurora nor himself had ever had. He would devote his life to the children just as eagerly to them as he devoted his life to Aurora. They were not merely children... They were...

His Kazequi children...

His daughters.

And Archelaus was proud too. "Never fear, Aurora, they will not be alone."

Even in the darkest of days, hope still shines.

Tam... she was happy. Despite everything, because nothing else mattered.

She shoved everything else to the background and focused on this moment, pain still lightly stinging through her body and mind, the mark of the Thel-ghan'che still making her tremble slightly. But she pressed her head into Archelaus' chest, holding herself to him, wanting so to stay forever in his embrace. Her memories of Archelaus might have been masked, but the others in the group had no such way to prove to her that they were people she could trust again.

And then she remembered that Cassus was there. She waited a moment longer, then reluctantly and shakily stood, almost crashing to the floor as she made her way through the rubble, leaving the Eris-Aya and Eris-Ell with Archelaus. She could trust him to protect them.

She took slow, hesitating, wary steps towards the group, looking much like a protective mother lion, seeing everything as a possible threat. She had a hostile, defensive look, but she couldn't help it- she assumed that much of what she remembered now was false, but she still hadn't the proof to back it up, not for the rest of them.

But her eyes locked on Cassus'. He was standing towards the back of the group, slouched slightly, his posture reflecting his mood. She nearly hissed as she forced herself closer to him, but... she still felt the call of family when she neared him. He might have left her, might have abandoned her, at least in her memory, but... he was still her brother. She still owed him a great deal...

And so she flung herself forcefully into his arms as well, throwing herself into him so that she couldn't stop and walk away. He was taken by surprise but Tam didn't care; here was someone else that she needed to know again.

"Big brother, big brother..." But then the terror of being hurt hit her again. She wrenched herself from his arms, leaving him just as stunned as when she first embraced him. "Y-you... you left me. You left me all alone, abandoned me in that house... left me crying right in the spot where only you could..." her voice broke then, and she collapsed into sobs. She went to her knees and curled instictively into the same position in which she had always hidden under the bottom shelf- her knees to her chest, her arms wrapped around them, her face buried in her legs. The sobs wracked through her body and she could not bring it back under control, no matter what she did.

"Don't cry like that, Tam." Cassus felt heartbroken seeing his sister break down like she did all those years ago. "Don't worry, I didn't leave you. I just...I just wish I could have kept you with me."

He held her head up by her chin and wiped her eyes with his glove. The parasite had certainly done a number on her, and although Tam looked very much alive, there was was something different about her. If a person was but a collection of their memories, Tam was another person because of it.

"Please, trust me. I'll show you."

Cassus reached out to her in his mind. He opened the gates and let his own memories come flooding back. He remembered the cold streets that they wandered after they abandoned their home. Sleeping in bedrolls that were too big yet not warm enough; running from gang members searching for victims to rob or kidnap.

The worst memory was when Tam left him. There was a note tucked in his hand, written by his sister. She'd run away because she felt like she was a burden. Cassus blamed himself for it all his life, and it left him with an even heavier burden than before.

"Why did you run away? I tried and I tried, but I guess I wasn't good enough."

He stood back up and offered his hand to help Tam get back up.

"Forgive me."

(Argh, bad writing.)

Tam looked into her brother's eyes for a long moment before she took his hand and stood. She fell into his arms desperately, and it was strange... Cassus wasn't the same person that he'd been when they were little and on the run, but... neither was she. Or at least... she hadn't been before the parasite. He felt... colder now, more distant. He was a killer, now, just as tough and just as driven by neccessity as before, but now he was different. He... didn't have as much care in him.

But somehow, he still had some care for her, no matter how small.

"Brother... I had to go. You were always good enough. You were everything I had, I respected you, looked up to you. I wanted to be as strong as you one day. But... I... it was hard for you, trying to keep be safe, and I knew that, even if you wouldn't admit it... I left for you, brother... I knew you could take care of yourself. It wasn't your fault..."

Cassus simply held Tam in his arms for the time being. He was grateful that she'd forgiven him, but at the same time did not know what to tell her. It wasn't the same as when he'd try to comfort Tam after her father had beaten her. Somehow, he knew it was him that had changed more, not his sister.

"Sometimes, I just wish I could go back to being your big brother." His voice trailed off as he spoke his thoughts aloud. Cassus caught himself and held his sister back up. "But I guess I should just accept fate as it is. You've got yours to deal with, too." He motioned to the two twins that had just been created.

"Still, I don't want to lose you again." This time he embraced her like the brother he should have been.