"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
The cough shudders through her as her body protests the abuse. She had used too much. Given too much.
She stumbles forward, squinting as her vision sways. She couldn’t quite seem to piece her thoughts together. Briella. She knew she needed to find Briella. And Dovev. She remembers him. And Briella.
There, just ahead. Bone and black. Familiar. She should be angry, but she can’t remember why. Can’t remember anything but his familiarity. Safe. Hers. Definitely hers.
“Dov…” The word in her throat sends another spasm of coughs through her chest, her entire body. She blinks dust from her eyes as she tries to focus. She stumbles, falling into him before righting herself. Her lips leave a smear of blood on the bone, red against white. “Dovev,” she finally manages as she looks around, her breath rattling in her chest. “Briella.”
She can’t find her. Where is she? Dovev had her, he’d taken her. She… remembers? Her thoughts fray as she looks around frantically, alarm growing in her chest. “Where is she?” she shouts. Or tries to. The words come out hoarse and uneven.
She tries to find her, tossing her vision wildly after the filly. Catches glimpses. Water. Rocky beach. Darkness.
No, the darkness is her. She falters as her vision fades. Blinking, she tries to clear it, but there is only Dovev. Her knees tremble as her body threatens to give out. She’d already given too much. The child had taken too much. Their child, curled in her belly.
She should be angry. So angry. She remembers. But it seems meaningless now. That child is hers now too. Like Dovev is hers. Like Briella is hers.
She didn’t know if she had the strength to save them both.
She could kill him if she wanted to. It's part of what drew him to her, as though he was constantly teasing death, skirting the lethal edge of his Dagger, his fate firmly tied to her present mood at any given time. Which was usually volatile. Unpredictable.
He loved to piss her off and push her around, challenge that precarious bladed tip, challenge the fates and toy with his own death. He'd never been afraid to die. And she loved that he did it, the way he would pick away at her armor and make her lash out when he cut too close. Always so unpredictable. She never disappointed.
And she loved that he wasn't afraid of her as he should be. He wasn't intimidated by her as they all should be.
She was stumbling now and didn't seem like she could put the images together of what was in front of her and who was near. She was delirious and disoriented. He watched her calmly in silence, though his chest tightened at seeing her this way. He wouldn't call her vulnerable, never that, but it was close enough. It was okay. He'd never tell.
He held still as she painted blood over his bone, trying to grasp onto her reality. He didn't want to like his name in her voice, but his name was such a rare thing, not given out freely. A name she had stolen for herself by digging into his memories. And he supposed he did like it.
"Briella," she said next, and he didn't react. His baby was gone. He would fetch her soon. He'd watched her panic and scamper away to warmer areas, and he would track her down as soon as Heartfire was also safe. Not that she was helpless. She clearly was not that.
"Dagger," he murmured softly as she began searching for the baby girl, touching his black and bloody muzzle to her shoulder in a steady caress. "I have her here," he lied to those frayed thoughts of hers. "Further up there," he added with a nod in the direction they needed to go next, his voice calm and confident. Promising.
"We have to go get her now." He leaned against her, supporting her and seeking her attention with another light nuzzle, his overly-warm breath on her cheek. He was hot, too hot. Inside and out.
She needed warmth and rest.
"Let's go get Briella. We should put her to bed now." He'd noticed how she would fight for his girl, protective of the filly. Cared for her. He would use it to his advantage.
He was being nice. Too nice. He’s never nice, not even when he wants something. Not even when he’d wanted her. She frowns, brows furrowing. She’s pressed against him. Why? She needs to push him away, get him away. He’d hurt her. Just like he’d hurt Luster.
Luster.
She’d meant to tell him. Had she? She couldn’t remember. She just needs to get away before…
A sharp kick in her belly reminds her. Too late. Already too late. Hers now. “Mine.” She doesn’t even realize she whispers it aloud.
Briella. Hers too. Dagger. She loves and hates that name. She’d killed a man with a dagger once. Felt his blood drip over her. Murderer. All to save someone she’d loved. She’d do it again too. Except he’s gone now. Forever lost.
Love always brings pain for her. Always. She is so afraid of that pain. She could love him, if she let herself. She could kill so easily too, if she did.
Briella. The name on his tongue brings her back. She had to find her. Just ahead, he says. It doesn’t seem right, but he sounds so certain. She straightens, stumbles forward several steps. “Briella,” she gasps.
She doesn’t wait for him. Need to find her. But she stumbles, trips. The ice scrapes her knees as she crashes down. Blood. Paint it red.
Her breath rattles as the ice beneath her begins to fall apart, crumbling as though it had never been. But she’d used too much. Given too much. She collapses as her muscles spasm, her belly contracting sharply. She gasps at the pain, head jerking up sharply. She nips at her side, as though the futile gesture would stay the inevitable.
Too soon. Pure determination brings her to her feet, shaky and unstable. She needs to find Dovev. His fault. Had to tell him. She blinks. Bone and black and constellations. She frowns. She needs to tell him. “Yours,” she rasps. What had she needed to tell him again?
Briella. She stumbles forward again, squinting at the beach. Lapping waves. “Where?” No, not right. Not here. She needs to find her.
She still seemed so confused. He continued to try and guide her away, lead her out of this chilly hell to somewhere warmer, somewhere nicer. He'd take her home, maybe. To his? Maybe not.
He hissed as she stumbled forward, tumbling down and cutting her knees. "Heartfire," he admonished in a whisper, rushing to her side and touching her gently, adding more blood to her graceful shoulder. He nudged her, supported her to help her stand. It didn't happen though. She didn't stand.
The ground started disintegrating beneath her, ice falling away to dust as she fell to her side and nipped at her belly. Something about that hurt like hell, and there was agony in his expression."Babe!" A strained plea, reaching down and pinching her skin between his teeth at her neck like it might wake her up from this. "Babe, don't do that. Get up. We gotta go."
And she did. Shaky and stumbling, but she rose to her feet and he fell in beside her to hold her up once again. "Yours." He frowned at her, looking into her face. His? What, her?? Okay, she was delirious, though. He ignored it. "Come on, baby, just a bit more, okay? Let's get you outta here."
He struggled to keep them moving. Every limb in his body was trembling with the cold, his teeth starting to chatter together. His body still ran so hot though. He was steaming in the cold, looking like smoke in a haze around him. Briella would have to hold on just a bit longer. It would be a bit until he could go for her, bring her with them. Heartfire wasn't safe yet.
"C'mon, baby," he murmured, kissing beside her jaw, keeping them moving. "We're gonna get you home. Gonna get you warm. You'd like that, huh?" Just keep talking. Just keep walking. "Then I'll bring Briella, keep her safe. I bet she misses you already. She's a good baby, you know?"
Golden eyes watching our every move Losing time without the sun or moon
Once, his life had been so quiet. Darkness filled his days, shadows his sole companions. Now, everything seems so loud, so very different. He has yet to decide if he cares for such changes. Were it not for little Merry, he might have remained a silent watcher for the remainder of his life. But he would not leave the boy alone. Not yet. For the first time in his life, he has something to live for.
But the world has changed so rapidly. And now the family he had once avoided for fear they would see the truth of his dark soul stands scattered in the line of danger. He might have lived in blissful ignorance not so long ago, but that too has changed. So, despite his desire to remain unnoticed and invisible, the heart that still beats so strongly in his chest demands he bring them home, to safety.
He could worry about the rest of it later.
Heartfire is the easiest of his remaining siblings to find. She always has been. Even as a child he had known she is not a quiet soul, and that had always been intimidating to a boy who wanted nothing more than the shrink into the shadows. But when the shadows part to reveal his sister, it is to find a woman vastly different than he remembers.
She is ill already, that much is clear. He is too late. His heart settles heavily in his chest as he peers at her through gleaming yellow eyes. There is a man with her, bloody and bone-armored, holding her almost protectively. His eyes slide over them, catching on the rounded curve of her stomach, almost painfully obvious in her too thin frame. She’s pregnant, he thinks, a hint of desperation crowding his thoughts. He hadn’t anticipated any of this.
“Heartfire,” he says softly, stepping from the safety of his shadows. The light is nearly blinding here, but he tries to ignore the way it burns his skin. She looks at him, almost startled, as though she hadn’t noticed him. There is confusion in her clouded blue gaze, and he realizes she would not recognize him. Not like this. “It’s Ether.”
She blinks at him, as though it takes a few moment for recognition to register. He presses onward though. He does not like this place. Too bright, too open, the stench of conflict on the horizon. “Please come with,” he pleads urgently, his skin itching beneath the bright chill. “We can go somewhere safe.”
The sharp pinch of his teeth on her skin brings her momentary clarity. A shiver runs along her spine, memories of a stormy night. But that’s how she ended up here, isn’t it? Trying to ignore the pain that ripples through her belly. In moments though, it passes.
He’s urging her up, and somehow, she makes it to her feet.
She’s nearly desperate now, gaze wild as she scans the icy beach for Briella. Her skin is feverish to the touch, hot even in the chill of the air. His words only half-register. He would find her. Briella was here though, wasn’t she? No, not here.
She’s tired, so tired. Leaning heavily against him, she presses her face against his neck, eyes slipping closed. Rest, just a moment.
Briella.
She jerks upright, stumbling, nearly falling again.
Heartfire. Her name whispers through the air and she startles. Her eyes, wide and unfocused, fall onto the black shadow that seems to have come from nowhere. Hallucinating now, she must be. Her gaze turns to Dovev. Real. He’s real.
Ether, the shadow says. She frowns, blinks. No, Ether is her brother. The could’ve been twins. Except Illum is her twin. No, not Illum, Ether. She stares at him for a long moment. There is something so familiar about him. “Ether,” she repeats softly. “Brother.” She misses the way he brightens at that.
He’s imploring her to come. She shakes her head. No. No, she can’t. “Have to find… Briella,” she gasps, trying the force her thoughts into coherency. She had to find Briella. “I’ll find her,” he whispers imploringly.
Would he? Could he? Her face fractures into confusion as she turns to Dovev. Real. He’s real. She had to focus on that.
