Fantasy Primacy [Closed]

[Lucyfer]

Tamsin realized the flaw as soon as he said it. He could see the moment it was there, before she shut her eyes and apologized. Varick squeezed her hand to try and reassure her. He wasn’t angry, he couldn’t be angry at her intent. It wasn’t as if she dealt with the reality of a genocide every day the way that he did.

She may know it, but she didn’t live it.

She didn’t know what it was to try and make sure it didn’t happen again, by remaining on the outskirts of memory.

“No, you didn’t, but I wouldn’t expect you to,” he said, “and it’s why I need to think about it. I haven’t…exactly tested the waters with any thought of proper promotions.” It had been done in the days before, of course. Not with song, but other methods. He doubted enough time had really passed to make that acceptable again.

He could only imagine what his siblings in arms would think of the song.

He should get opinions…but he was unlikely to be able to do so, so he had to think for all of them. Still, he scoffed at her comment, and smiled, “I think you left out some of my fumbles in all of this,” made him seem too good at the job. Too faultless.

Of course, that’s how heroes in songs were. “But I suppose a song about an asskicking isn’t good when it’s about a hero.” Only when it was some sort of bawdy shanty or otherwise rowdy, humorous song.

And even then…the hero usually came out on top in an unconventional way.

~***~

Of course, Drazhan played the gentleman card. Kirsikka was too drunk to consent! Of course, he had no idea she had consented to the idea long before the first sip touched her lips, and she could at least avoid mentioning that. No one wanted to hear ‘I can only fuck you if I’m drunk’ – and it was a terrible thought. Even Kirsikka hated it, but the alcohol kept her…focused. In the moment.

Something she wasn’t, otherwise.

A drunk her wouldn’t have used Dravon’s name.

She scoffed a laugh at his suggestion of pinning her down, though. The image was funny, because it wasn’t how it would go, but never mind that. He wasn’t going to know, was he? So she regrouped. Shut her eyes for a few seconds as the warmth of his words and images crossed her mind. Crossed her face with a blush.

“Ever the gentleman,” she said softly, almost mockingly with that thought of pinning in mind, with a small shake of her head as she opened her eyes again. Tried not to sigh. She was torn in how to address it, torn in what to say, because she’d already played her hand of wanting him, and he confessed as much. All that stood between them was her damn mental block.

And the mirrors. The mirrors she could absolutely use as an excuse for the night, and then use scrying for all the others. “You really don’t get that I had consented to the idea before drinking, do you?” Fuck. Apparently she was going to say too much. “I wanted something that would burn what happened out of my mind, and the liquor wasn’t that. I thought you’d be strong enough, but that plan failed spectacularly.” And now, the moment had passed. Now she had to deal with it.

Poor coping mechanism? Definitely. But she had been very aware of what she was doing, at any rate.

 

[cleopat]

Tamsin further relaxed with the hand squeeze, his warmth and strength both comforting and reassuring. “I’ll stay away from any such mentions in the future for now.” Even if she did believe that his adventures were deserving of epics and songs, sung from coast to coast, north to south.

But she couldn’t live with herself if something happened to Varick because of her stupidity.

She very lightly chuckled at his words of his fumbles, shaking her head in response. “You’ve hardly fumbled in my presence.” And if he did, he still won, didn’t he? In her eyes, that was worthy of poems and songs and ballads! He was a grand hero like the ballads of old. If only society saw him the way she did.

“You have not received an asskicking since we’ve met. You’ve only been the one to give out those asskickings,” she said, her smile widening further as she released some tension.

But it wasn’t meant to last as her mind reminded her of the anger he had every right to feel.

“I know you’re upset by this. You have every right to be, and I don’t blame you. But…you’re not angry?” She searched his face for the truth, her body tensing in anticipation of what she had been used to for a time.

Cold, leveled emotions in public, only to unleash the truth behind closed doors.

~~~

A light smirk crossed his lips when he noticed the blush on her face, affected by his words. Good. Maybe then she would stop playing this stupid game of pretending to ignore her true feelings.

Apparently she had planned on getting drunk and then fucking him. Even if she had done that, it still would’ve felt wrong in his mind. He would’ve felt guilty about it later. And he can’t exactly get drunk, so joining her in inebriation was out of the question.

Why did he have to fall for the most difficult woman on the continent?

His brows furrowed, and he tilted his head as he regarded her words. “What do you mean? What exactly happened that you wanted burned out of your mind?” One hand had slid up the armrest, and his fingers grazed her arm. His fingers itched to slide upwards even more and tangle themselves in her hair, but he wanted answers first. Drazhan realized how delicate of a situation this was, with Kirsikka’s thoughts.

 

[Lucyfer]

Varick drew his hand back as the topic shifted just a little to how he hadn’t failed around Tamsin. He wasn’t so sure about that; he wasn’t confident he’d put on his best showing when the nue attacked in Mont Pellinor. Or his best showing in general around the mage, but that was a problem for another day. ‘And won’t it be….’ He had little doubt of that, but he also hadn’t known how to deal with Dravon then.

He'd have to do some research, because Dravon wasn’t…typical of undead he dealt with.

A problem for later.

There were more problems with Tamsin as she questioned his anger. He frowned at it. He’d been straightforward, why was she asking him for more? “I am angry,” of course, upset and angry meant the same thing to him. “I have told you that, but I understood your intent, as you understand where I’m coming from about it.”

The issue of the Primals being targeted again was no joke. “Why are you asking?” as far as he knew, this was now something they could set to the side. He’d explained himself, and Tamsin understood. He’d think more about the song situation, and any fame or infamy that could or could not be a good thing.

So why was she wanting more about how he felt? There wasn’t much to it.

~***~

Kirsikka couldn’t expect Drazhan to understand that Dravon’s existence again was enough. Of course, Dravon’s existence fed into so many things. Did she consider him alive? Dead? What did it mean about their own relationship? She’d wanted to burn him out so there would be no doubts of it, but now they weighed heavily on her.

‘Loyal.’

Such a bullshit word to put her in a chokehold.

She flinched as she felt the graze and then sighed and dropped her arms from their crossed position.

Was Dravon in trouble?

Was he manipulating her?

Was Mont Pellinor for nothing?

Was everything for nothing?

Was the White Sun that bad if it brought him back?

What did the White Sun want with him? With her – really?

And the unknown woman?

Kirsikka put her hands on Drazhan’s shoulders and pushed. Not hard enough to be a real attempt to move him, but a suggestion. “I want to get up,” she didn’t like sitting this close to him anymore. She didn’t like the thoughts brought back full force as Drazhan wanted her to explain what happened, when all that happened was simply in her head. “I told you what happened already, it’s not my fault if your memory is faulty.”

‘Dravon’s alive. What more is there to say?’ She shouldn’t…be toying with Drazhan when Dravon was alive, and she didn’t know how to feel.

 

[cleopat]

Tamsin wanted the security and warmth of his hand back, but she didn’t reach out to bring it back. She had upset Varick, and she didn’t want to do anything that may aggravate him further, even if it was something simple as that gentle touch.

She wanted to make him forget what had happened.

He was still angry.

But his expression remained calm and neutral, which confused her and created uncertainty. Was it just an act until they had privacy again? Her instinct told her no, that wasn’t what Varick did. He could always control his emotions from what she had seen. He wasn’t one to lash out at someone unless they presented a danger.

How he punched that one mage in the nose came to mind.

He wouldn’t intentionally hurt her. He’s not Roland. No one is like Roland.

And she certainly didn’t want to talk to him about the reasons for her insecurities over her mistake towards him. “Oh no reason,” she said quickly, shifting her gaze to look around the room at the people still lingering over conversations and dinner, to ignore her own embarrassment.

“You know, I never actually had a formal performance here before I left.” Changing the subject was good. Shift her thoughts away from the old nightmare. “Sometimes I would perform in the streets, or even for a small group of friends or friends of my parents, but my actual first performance for a strange crowd was after I left.”

~~~

Drazhan refused to budge at Kirsikka’s small attempt to push him away. Her strength didn’t match his by far, and he wasn’t letting her avoid his questions this time. “Well, I’m not letting you up right now,” he simply stated, moving his hand back down to grip the armrest.

He wanted to do so much to Kirsikka with his hands. All wonderful things.

Kirsikka didn’t mention everything that happened, that much he could surmise. But what was currently fucking with her head had to do with Dravon coming back…which shouldn’t have happened. At all.

Dealing with the undead was already not fun at all. But a 800-year-old mage coming back? A deep sense of dread filled his stomach at those possibilities.

He recalled the story she shared with him of Dravon, in return for his story of Sophia. Both deeply loved ones lost to violence of the Council of Light.

Drazhan’s gaze softened. “Despite what you saw back there, the Dravon you know is gone. That Dravon…whatever undead creature he may be, is not your Dravon. He is to be considered extremely dangerous.” But it was always hard for someone to accept that of one they loved for so long. “He must be destroyed.”

How would Drazhan react if he saw Sophia stand before him?

He may falter at first, but then she would have to be destroyed. The dead must stay dead.

Then he would mourn all over again.

 

[Lucyfer]

There was definitely a reason. Tamsin looked away too quickly, changed her tune too quickly, for her concern to be meaningless. Varick wanted to press it, but he resisted. It was something Tamsin didn’t want to talk about, and there were already a lot of other things for her to be concerned with.

This would come up again on their journeys together.

It wasn’t like this would be the only time he got upset with her. Or she got upset with him, for that matter. That was how traveling and companionship worked, but so long as they could actually communicate about it, it would be fine.

‘Though now we’re not communicating.’

He sighed.

Now he was going to be agitated over that, but he’d follow the trail of her conversation for a moment. “I’m glad you’ve gotten to have your homecoming performance. I think it went well. Hopefully well enough,” he glanced at the innkeeper, noticing she didn’t seem as busy any longer. With Tamsin no longer performing, people were finishing up their visit.

Varick placed his hands on the table and rose. He’d long ago finished his own meal, “I’m going to head on back up,” he knew it wouldn’t take much to wait for her, but she…might want to continue talking about inane things to redirect, and he wasn’t sure he’d manage that well.

Sleep would turn the page. He could move on from all of this oddity then. Mostly, because he’d forget. “I’ll see you up soon.”

~***~

‘Some care for consent you have.’ Kirsikka didn’t snap the words, though her agitation did not improve with Drazhan not moving or letting her up. He had strength in spades, but he was starting to push the edges of her patience. When he mentioned Dravon, she couldn’t help but prickle at it.

‘You weren’t there. You didn’t see.’

Dravon was the one helping them. The one who warned her away from the White Sun and told her what needed to be done to defeat it. She’d done nearly impossible things before, why not bring Dravon back as something alive, not undead? Somewhere, somehow, it was possible, wasn’t it?

The softness of his gaze, and his attempt at understanding, were not well received as she moved her hands down from his shoulders, to his chest. “It’s easy for you to say – of course he’s dangerous. He was dangerous before, and it was no reason to kill him. He didn’t want this fate,” he had it, though, “and he’s trying to help. He still has his mind. He’s not enthralled to the White Sun.”

But if the White Sun was destroyed, that might finish him off.

A terrible thought, like all the others that caused her to draw one hand back to wipe at the sensation of watering eyes. She bowed her head as if it would hide it. To take a shaky breath. She’d never had time to mourn, and she still refused to mourn what happened to him. And what had now become of him. “I can’t destroy him. Not when he’s still….” Still what? She wasn’t even sure.

‘Still here.’

She swallowed down the rest of the emotions. “Move. I won’t ask again.” Next time she was blasting him away, but she gave him a hint to the threat with a gust of wind by his ear.

 

[cleopat]

Varick was still upset with her. Her attempts at trying to distract and change the subject to lighten the mood failed, and Tamsin frowned at that.

Maybe you are just a stupid little girl.

She was supposed to make people smile, not the opposite, and a weight tugged on her heart as Varick rose from the table. “Alright, I’ll be up there very soon.” She wasn’t going to linger. She wasn’t in the mood anymore.

After he left, Tamsin sighed and rose to walk over to the innkeeper, who greeted the bard with a smile. “You were fantastic tonight, dearie. I can’t believe you’re not more well-known.”

Tamsin smiled at the compliment, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She couldn’t believe in the smile at the moment, but she was hardly going to be rude to the woman, and not just because of the money situation. “Thank you, that means a lot to me. It felt nice performing here, since I grew up in this town.”

The two ladies trailed off to light conversation for just a minute longer, before the innkeeper waived off the fee for that night’s stay, and a generous discount on future nights should they stay longer, with the promise of at least one more performance.

To that Tamsin readily agreed, and without further distraction, she headed upstairs and to the room, only a few minutes after Varick had left for it. Opening the door, she immediately told him the good news, “We got tonight’s room for free, and if we stay longer, she’ll give us a discount.” That would put anyone in a better mood, right?

~~~

Drazhan could see that the end of their conversation would be nearing soon. He could feel the rise and stirring of Kirsikka’s emotions, and while her strength had nothing on his, she could easily kill him with her magic.

Her magic was something to fear.

Drazhan sighed, “No one wants that fate.” Of course not! It was akin to torture, to never know a moment’s rest. “It’s impossible for the undead to have the same mind as before they perished. You may not know yet, but something about him has changed.” He couldn’t answer what, since he didn’t know the man before or after his death.

But he knew how this situation worked.

He frowned at the tears collecting in her eyes. His fingers twitched at the urge to wipe them away, but in her state, he was afraid she’d bite them off. “I will destroy him,” he promised, firm in his words, “and I hope you won’t stop me.”

He felt the gust of wind by his ear. He understood the threat. But he didn’t move just yet. “Answer one more question, and I promise I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the evening.” A deep sigh. “If you wish for me to leave you alone, then say so. If you need more time to think about…whatever the fuck is going on between us, then tell me. But I can’t handle thinking you can tolerate me one minute, to thinking you hate me the next.”

And he didn’t know if she actually wanted him or just companionship in general.

With that said, he did straighten up. “You don’t have to answer that tonight, but if you leave it for too long, then I will assume you’ll only want to continue as partners on a contract, and nothing more.” The way it had started so long ago, before he knew the truth.

There was only so much he could take before his own heart start to ache.

 

[Lucyfer]

By the time Tamsin returned, Varick had already dressed down for the evening and gotten into the bed. He turned a bit as he heard her enter, and took in the good news. He grunted approval, a smile flickering on his lips. “Good. We can keep saving our coin for food,” which was always better than trying to hunt it down.

He settled back, shutting his eyes, “Hopefully we won’t be here too long,” he murmured, “unless there are that many people to talk to,” from the sounds of it, there weren’t. One or two more days, tops, was what he’d estimate, but he knew they could be taken by surprise.

“The performance was good,” he added. “I’m glad to hear you inventing new songs…I do get tired of all the old ones.” Although there were some old ones he missed, songs no bard really performed anymore.

The times had simply not preserved them as well.

“Where are we starting in the morning?” he opened his eyes, deciding if he was going to ask questions, he ought to stop trying to sleep.

~***~

‘I will destroy you.’

Kirsikka bit her cheek against that threat, when Drazhan promised to destroy Dravon. She wanted to argue with him – of course a mind would change after death! Hers changed after Mont Pellinor! Dramatic events always did that, but Drazhan was a Primal, not a mage. He didn’t think the same way.

He thought in terms of monsters, not possibilities.

Not salvation.

‘You asked him to destroy you.’ She’d really have to hope he could.

Drazhan posed one question before he straightened up, and when he did, she also rose and walked around him, back to her focus on the mirrors. ‘Don’t answer.’ Yet she wanted to. She wanted to go right back to the contract, when it was easy, or tell him to leave completely. Tell him she already….

‘What, have someone?’

It felt like it, as much as it didn’t. The ache was worse with the memory of the terrible kiss, with knowing, in a way, he was gone. Fearing Drazhan might be right about it all, and he couldn’t come back in a real way. She wasn’t ready to accept it. When he was dead, truly dead, it was easier to consider everything.

Easier to think of moving on, even if she’d frozen herself against it.

She’d started to melt….

But now, it felt like all of that was lost. “I’ll answer tomorrow.” She wouldn’t specify a time, but she wouldn’t leave him hanging longer. Her gaze remained on the project, though, twirling the wind to stir the flames again to the heat she wanted. “But wake Mikhail on your way out.” As if he wasn’t leaning against a door with his ear pressed to it.

Rotten bastard.

 

[cleopat]

Tamsin couldn’t see any of that residual anger festered into something greater, to take out on her now they were in private. She kept trying to reassure herself that he wouldn’t. He wasn’t like that. Varick was probably one of the kindest, most understanding person she had met, even if he doesn’t believe that of himself.

But it was hard to shake past memories from her head.

She smiled at him as she began to dress down to put on her sleep clothes. “Food and whatever need comes along.” New armor, other supplies, the potentials were endless. They both knew that well from traveling for so long.

Once dressed, Tamsin sat on the edge of her side of the bed and glanced back at Varick. “I don’t have many people I’m actually seeking out to ask,” she assured. “Of course, something like today could happen again, running into an old friend and spending a few minutes catching up.” But it was hard to do that in just a few minutes! Oh, how she wished she could stay there for more than a week, but already she could feel the aching longingness for her parents.

To rush to her home and show them Varick, the man who had saved her and countless other infants.

That was still a strange thing to think about.

With the praise, her smile became more genuine. “Thank you. If you like new songs, then you’ll like my future performances, as I have other new songs to test out, ones that won’t mention names. I’ll make sure of it.” She moved to sit proper on her side of the bed, though she didn’t immediately lay down, but instead leaned against the headboard.

“We’ll start at my dad’s old blacksmith shop, to see if his old apprentice is still working there.” If not, maybe the new blacksmith would know where to point her. The day would be long, but hopefully worth it.

Perhaps little time to actually talk to Varick.

She sighed as the guilt continued to eat at her. If she didn’t say something, Tamsin didn’t know if she would be able to sleep well that night. “Earlier, when you asked me why I kept asking if you were angry, there was a reason for it.” Which he probably figured out instantly. “I don’t want to go into the details tonight, but I wanted you to know where this was coming from.

Tamsin took a brief pause, fingers fiddling with the fabric of her night clothes, before continuing, “I was once in a relationship where every time I made him angry from something stupid I did, I paid a terrible price for it. I hadn’t exactly been with another partner since then, and I thought I had moved past what happened, but I guess not.” Why couldn’t life ever be that easy?

~~~

Drazhan didn’t expect her to answer that night. He would’ve been surprised if she had. So he accepted her temporary answer with a nod. “Alright.” And he would easily accept her request. Simple enough. “Goodnight, Kirsikka.”

He headed out of the room and back up the stairs, when he saw Mikhail exit his room. The clothes of earlier had been replaced with a house robe, but his long hair remained perfectly styled, indicating that he hadn’t tried to sleep yet.

Drazhan wondered if he had even been expecting this. “Kirsikka wants you.”

Mikhail gave him a smile and a nod. “Thank you. Have a pleasant sleep, and if you need anything, anything at all, just let me know.” The wink told Drazhan of the double meaning in Mikhail’s words, and he shook his head with a chuckle.

“Thank you.” He wouldn’t justify it with a longer response. He went into his room for the night, doubting he would get much sleep.

Mikhail glided into the room, tisking at Kirsikka. “You torture the poor boy. Tell me, would you rather have undead dick, or primal dick? I know which one I would want.” But alas, the Primal had his puppy eyes on someone else who constantly gave him mixed signals.

 

[Lucyfer]

Varick couldn’t help the slight frown at the mention of new songs and no names. ‘Primal is enough.’ He supposed he’d wait to hear the songs, but ideally, she’d make no mention that the savior in her songs was anything different. Just…another hero people could imagine as human. That would be preferable.

Even if he’d know otherwise.

He didn’t comment, but nodded about the blacksmith shop. It was what he expected, but he had wondered if she saw anyone at the performance to make her change her mind, or thought of anything else as she settled back into her home. It seemed not, which made life easier, as she got into bed, though didn’t quite relax.

She went back to address the topic from downstairs.

Perhaps she just needed privacy, although she still spoke of it in rather vague terms. It was also not something Varick considered abnormal…unfortunately. He had witnessed it. It was curious, the way people would react around him at times, as if he wasn’t worth their notice since he wasn’t human.

Varick hummed at her confession, “That makes sense.” Of course, he was disappointed he thought that way of him. He knew it wasn’t personal, though. It was the lingering side effects of the other relationship. It was not knowing him in anger, with her, yet. “I will be patient as you unlearn what he taught you.”

Disappointed, yes.

But not angry at her for it. She was trying to communicate, and that’s what he wanted.

Well…he was angry at the other man. “You shouldn’t have had to learn that in the first place,” but then again, Tamsin thought he didn’t need to learn so many horrible things about how humans treated primals. That he didn’t need to learn to wait outside inns while she got a room for them. So, he reached out a hand to invite her into the bed, closer, “I will not abuse you for an error, Tamsin. We all make them. I will upset you one day. We will talk it through.”

~***~

“It’s a good thing he’s a masochist, isn’t it?” Kirsikka responded to Mikhail’s comment of torture, flicking sparks out of the fire his way. No harm. No threat. Not quite playful as it underscored annoyance, but what was that between them? “I don’t think either of us know if undead dick is worthwhile, either.”

Not that it was about dick. Things would be so much easier if it was about dick! Obviously Primal dick would win – cold, clammy, undead dick was probably not worth it. “You’re really straining my ability to trust you by telling Drazhan such things, you know.” Not that she’d specified such a thing should remain in secret. It should have been implied, but then again, Mikhail was always…quite forward about these things. He probably didn’t understand secrecy when it came to such desires.

Just letting people know was easier.

She looked away from the flames. “You’ve still done more research than anyone else I know, and of things the Ordo wouldn’t approve, so I suppose I can let this go,” she shifted her weight, folded her arms, “letting go of your bias, Mikhail – say Malina was in the position, restored by an entity to unlife – what would you do?”

Mikhail could think.

He could debate, in a way neither Drazhan or Malina could. Really, only in a way Dravon could, because he’d been the only other Visionary to think outside the box. “Would you really just destroy her?”

 

[cleopat]

Tamsin was admittedly nervous to how Varick would react, as she didn’t know what to expect at all. But, as always, he expressed understanding and patience, something so few men it seemed ever knew about. “Thank you.”

It made her heart melt.

No, she shouldn’t have had to learn about how irrational people acted in their anger, among many other things, but she did, and apparently, the entire experience stuck with her, when she had wanted to just move on and put it behind her. Life was a bitch.

Tamsin took his hand and relaxed into the covers, cuddled up next to Varick. She rested her head on his chest and listened to the relaxing beating of his heart. “I truly believe that. You haven’t given me any reason at all to believe otherwise.” While it was obvious he was reserved about some things, he still communicated with her about the things that truly mattered. Why couldn’t all men be like that?

Although he did fail to mention to her about saving her as a baby.

Tamsin turned her head to look up at him. “How does it feel knowing we first met when I was an infant?”

~~~

Mikhail brushed off a speck of invisible dust from his sleeve, as if a bit of the fire Kirsikka flicked his way got on him. “I didn’t realize you revealed anything to me that was intended to stay just between us, since it apparently involved something drazhan did last night.” Or didn’t do. “But he was nothing more than a confused puppy under those lean muscles, and he deserves to understand.”

Understand why Kirsikka was acting cold towards him.

The conversation shifted, or rather it was related in a way, from the conversation Mikhail overheard between her and Drazhan. He frowned at the question, but it wasn’t entirely unanticipated. Just difficult.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know you don’t want to agree, but Malina is a powerful mage. If an entity brought her back from the dead, I would be worried why this entity would want to do that.” Nothing good could ever come of it.

It would hurt him to know his sister died twice.

“You let the dead rest, no matter how much before their time it was when they died. To bring one back…there has to be a nefarious reason to do so.” He couldn’t think of any other reason why. Why not simply get a living mage to act out what was needed?

“It would hurt my soul, but yes, I would destroy her, and the entity that disturbed her from her eternal slumber.”

 

[Lucyfer]

Naturally, Varick wrapped his arm around her as she curled closer, and held her to him. She settled against him, and he thought he might get to sleep then, but it seemed Tamsin had a few more questions before that was allowed.

Or, just one, but it was likely to spiral into more.

He sighed.

“I didn’t think much beyond the fact it made sense of the despoina’s presence. She was looking for you, a creature of power, to use. I never really understood what she was doing kidnapping babies.” It wasn’t precisely unusual behavior, but it usually had a motive, or a target. “I don’t know how she knew. She didn’t know well enough to target you alone.”

But she still knew. Just as she knew one of the infants would grow into power. How? That was a question he’d never have answered.

“It must feel significantly stranger for you. I’m sorry I didn’t make it clear…I assumed you knew,” and when it was mentioned, he had no idea of her powers then. That revelation didn’t happen until later, and then, well, the despoina thing was a long ago conversation. He didn’t think to bring it up. “Well, assumed after the fact, when what you can do became clear.”

~***~

No, Kirsikka would never agree out loud that Malina was powerful, although she knew it. So, she disregarded that bit of Mikhail’s message. Regardless, anyone brought back from the dead by another entity, was meant to be used by that entity. Kirsikka understood this, just as she understood the message Mikhail was offering. There was one obvious problem with the logic, and it was the one that plagued Kirsikka.

“Hypothetically,” because it all had to be hypothetical, “if whatever brought Malina back was destroyed first, and she didn’t perish with it…would you still kill her? There’s the chance…she wouldn’t be beholden to it,” a slim chance. Kirsikka knew that, even in speaking of Dravon…but wasn’t he always an annoying exception?

‘No.’ The annoying exception had been her. Not needing catalysts for magic, not needing rituals – she had been the annoying exception to every rule. He just happened to be near, to be the one to find her, to be the one that made her.

“Is there no way to break the bonds and…not kill them?” That wasn’t what she was asking. She was asking if there was no way to really bring them back, a question mages had been asking since death existed. No one had figured it out. Kirsikka didn’t believe it was information the Ordo Sors simply covered up. She knew it didn’t work that way.

Passing back meant more than a mental change.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t struggling to find a way, or a loophole, or anything else.

It didn’t mean she didn’t need every single one of them shot down.

 

[cleopat]

Varick didn’t quite answer the question in the way she had intended. He went on to talk about the entire incident, and his thoughts, which Tamsin was genuinely curious to hear about, especially after her shock earlier that day.

“That wasn’t really what I meant by the question,” she teased, smiling at him to indicate her jest. “But it’s okay. It was just a simple understanding that you didn’t tell me about that, and it’s something I should’ve known already.” But she didn’t.

She wanted to know why, but that was a question that would never get answered.

“And honestly? I think this is the least strange thing to have happened to me recently.” There was a light chuckle. “But really, what I meant by that question, was that you first met meson after I was born. And now we’re sleeping together. Does that make you feel strange? Or just old?” Another light tease.

~~~

“Of course hypothetically,” Mikhail repeated, as if he hadn’t been filled in on the situation. As if he didn’t know that Kirsikka wanted to try and keep Dravon alive. Or, really, simply existing, as he wasn’t alive. Far, far from it.

Mikhail felt uneasy at the fact that Dravon was even back, and not because he never liked the man. This was a very powerful, centuries old mage. Whatever brought him back had obvious big plans.

“Yes, I would,” Mikhail answered after a moment’s thought. “Because what made them the person who loved and cared for is, their very essence of life, is not something that can be resurrected. You would only be torturing yourself to think that they’re alive again, and selfish in not allowing them the rest and peace they were woken from.”

Life was unfair that way. To lose someone earlier than planned could never be reversed. He may have done research into it, but it was the one of the few forms of magic he wouldn’t attempt. It just felt…wrong.

Mikhail just sighed. “I’m sure there is a way to break that bond and not send them back to the afterlife, but it won’t be worth it. Their soul is already long gone.”

 

[Lucyfer]

Tamsin seemed okay with Varick not mentioning it. A simple misunderstanding. That was the truth of it, and he was glad she was able to accept it. However, it seems she didn’t quite understand how normal this was to him.

He snorted.

“I can’t recall the last time I slept with someone who had been around since I could be called young, Tamsin.” He noted dryly. “It’s possible I’ve slept with others I encountered first as an infant,” this was the first time he’d known it, but it didn’t really make him feel…well, anything differen’t.

He was already over a hundred. Any human who had been alive when he was growing up was long dead, and had been for a while. He didn’t expect to be sleeping with anyone who could match him in age, unless he went towards another Primal, a Vampire, a Mage, or a Fae. Quite frankly, he was never going for a mage or a primal, so the odds of ever sleeping with anyone close to his age were slim to none.

“Why? Does it bother you to be a grave robber?” He knew the term ‘cradle robber’ for his situation…but he also knew the other, even if it didn’t quite apply with a Primal in the same way it did with a human.

Still, he wouldn’t be surprised if it bothered Tamsin. That would be far more normal. Of course, she never proved to be normal.

~***~

The soul. That ephemeral thing Kirsikka wanted to doubt even existed, but she knew better than that. She’d seen enough to know a soul existed. That was what became the ghosts and wraiths when death occurred. It was split out from the body, but even then, it wasn’t the same. Ghosts and wraiths proved that. Without the body, the soul could be corrupted if it didn’t just pass on immediately.

Dravon likely did not occupy his own body. He had felt quite solid, but she knew there was something amiss. Sure, having a corpse feel was exactly what was expected, and he bore the old wounds, but there was still something…off.

Even if he was brought back together, body and soul, that didn’t mean much. Such fusions were always imperfect. The soul had to be trapped. The body never quite recovered after death. His still-visible wound was evidence of that latter; he was powerful enough to heal it…unless he couldn’t.

‘But.’

Exceptions wanted to ring out. She supposed, they always would – and she could pursue them, if Dravon lasted after the White Sun. “I don’t think his soul is gone, Mikhail…but you’d have to see for yourself,” she sighed and pushed a hand back through her own hair, “but something’s wrong with it. The wound was there.” The one that killed him, “You know, I never saw his body after….”

She hadn’t even been sure there would be a body, after what people told her happened when she lost it. Perhaps he just got caught in the ice; his corpse wouldn’t have been a priority to protect. Frozen and destroyed, shattered to pieces.

Or perhaps it had been stolen away for just this.

She’d never know.

“Not that it matters. I knew.” Questioning his death was impossible. She’d tried to imagine it was an illusion, that Dravon was alive out there…but she knew. When he’d died, she’d felt her own soul break. How else would she have been able to do the feat that made her infamous?

“I don’t know how to let him go, Mikhail,” wasn’t that the truth of it all? He’d been there longer than anyone. He’d taught her everything. Even when she hated him…. “I thought I could before this. That’s where Drazhan gets all his ideas, but now….” well, now was all the more difficult.

 

[cleopat]

Everything that Varick said made sense, just not something she ever had to think about before. Even when he first revealed his age to her, about a day after they first met, Tamsin didn’t think much more of it after the fact except for the occasional thought of all of his experiences he had.

Someone who traveled all the time and was nearly two hundred years old…she couldn’t imagine the stories he had. Another day, she would have to try and get some stories from him.

Tamsin snorted at his question. “I guess because you don’t actually look like a human who’s almost two hundred, it really doesn’t bother me at all.” And she had slept with men who were close to the age he resembled physically. Age difference didn’t really bother her at all.

“It’s just…weird to think about. Not a bad weird, but interesting.” She slid one hand up a little to brush against his beard. “One day, I would love to hear some of your older stories. The ones you want to share.” Tales of monster slayings, unique people, or even anything funny he may have seen.

But not tonight. She was aware that Varick was ready to go to sleep, and she didn’t plan on keeping him up even longer with questions of his old stories.

~~~

After you froze entire armies.

Mikhail wouldn’t say that. There was no need. “If his soul is indeed still here somehow, then it will not be the same as when he was alive. Corruption would have already started.” Unless…no, he couldn't continue that thought out loud. Not with Kirsikka in the state she was in. She would do something even more idiotic than what she had already done. Planned to do.

“And I’m sure there was a lot that happened at Mont Pellinor that you didn’t see.” Except for ice. “There’s no use obsessing over that, as there’s no way you can be sure. Instead, focus on what you know you can do now.” On how to destroy this Dravon, whatever he was, and destroy whoever brought him back.

Someone powerful enough to bring back that mage was surely too powerful to be alive.

Of course, Mikhail could be wrong about all his theories.

Mikhail sighed softly and took her hands to gently guide her over to a couch placed against the wall. He sat down, and motioned for her to do the same. “I can’t tell you how to let him go. The process is different for everyone. But it’s natural to feel this way about someone you’ve loved for so long, even though I can’t understand why you loved him of all people.” He gave a half smile, somewhat joking.

But not really. Kirsikka long knew about his disdain over Dravon.

“And you know what? It’s okay to never fully get over someone. My mother died so long ago, I can’t even imagine her voice anymore, but everytime I think of her, there is a pain in my chest. I don’t think I’ve ever truly let her go, and it was the same for Malina.” She hadn’t always been so angry and bitter at everything.

“But I knew because she loved us, she wanted us to continue on with our lives. Allow time to grieve, but also allow yourself to continue on. If he truly loved you, he would want that.”

 

[Lucyfer]

Varick wasn’t too surprised it didn’t bother Tamsin, for the reasons she indicated. He knew quite well it’d be different if he looked his age. He would not have had such luck in enjoying company in bed were that the case, though perhaps people would have been kinder to him – even if he was a Primal – because of how old he appeared.

As it was, he looked too young to be worthy of mercy. Not to mention he acted too cynical and jaded. Not that such an act was soon to change. He’d definitely lived long enough to be those things and have reason for it, unlike teenagers who thought they’d seen it all and understood it all.

At least Varick could admit he didn’t know it all. He just had bad expectations.

“The stories aren’t much different than now,” except for the one where he lost his home and most of his loved ones, but what was there to say? One day, people decided Primals were the source of monsters, and attacked them. The end.

It wasn’t an exciting story.

It wasn’t like he wanted to get into the gory details of the fights that they lost, and the way he escaped with the children. It had all been a nightmare and he didn’t want to relive that in anyway befitting a true telling.

“There’s a problem with a monster, or a curse, and I fix it, or I fail,” there were always failures. None that ended his life, but failures all the same. They had been learning experiences, mostly about human nature, and their stubbornness to resist what was good for them.

But tonight was not a night for stories, and he drifted off with Tamsin in his arms, waking as the sun began to peak over the horizon of Tamsin’s hometown. He wouldn’t move, though. He’d watch it from where he laid, and wait for Tamsin to wake up on her own.

It was…nice having her in his arms. Having her scent around him. He wasn’t yet used to it. He still didn’t think he would be…that this was still temporary, and one day, would be gone when she moved on to better things.

Better people.

~***~

Kirsikka didn’t resist and followed Mikhail to the couch, casting one glance at her pending mirrors before sitting. She didn’t want to hear any of it, but wasn’t that the point? She knew everything he said was true, but that didn’t mean she was thinking it, or humoring it. Dravon’s soul was likely tainted by death, just as the body was.

Moving on, though….

Everyone anticipated outliving their parents. Even before becoming a mage, it was the natural order. Even so, Kirsikka knew she was similar to Mikhail. Going back to Kheimon was not merely an act of dedication to the land and the ingredients. It was an old dedication to a long-dead father, a man she couldn’t even describe the appearance of.

He was just a feeling now.

An ache.

Yet she had let him go far easier than anything else. She was prepared for that. He had been aging, he had grown sick, and in the end, he went the way of all – into death. Despite how much older Dravon was, Kirsikka had simply never been prepared to let him go. That wasn’t how it was going to work.

And she snorted at the thought of Dravon wanting her to move on. She knew he loved her, but he’d never once allowed her to move on. Every time she left the Ordo, she could count on him showing up to drag her back eventually. Weeks, months, years…it always happened.

So why not expect him after death to drag her back into waiting?

She chuckled and shook her head, “I really…don’t think he’d ever want that.” Which wasn’t healthy. Which was one of the thousands of things she’d complained to Mikhail about in the past, but it hadn’t stopped her, every time, from going back. In the end, it hadn’t been unhealthy enough. “Moving on, without him. He never really let me go every time I walked out. I should have seen this coming, as soon as I start thinking of someone new.”

She understood some of why Mikhail didn’t like Dravon. Complaining about him hadn’t helped Dravon’s image, but of course, there had been enough to like. To love. And she wasn’t perfect, either. “I really never should have found Drazhan.” As if not moving on would have prevented Dravon from showing up.

 

[cleopat]

Tamsin refused to believe that all the stories are the same. There is always something different about them, whether it’s the people he met, the little details that happened, or something else of significant or inconsequential nature.

But she didn’t push the subject any further before falling asleep, feeling warm and secure next to Varick.

And that’s how she woke, with that very same feeling as the early morning sun filtered through the window. Her head was nestled into the crook of his neck, and she really didn’t want to move when everything felt, and smelled, so pleasant. There may not have been a great hurry, but they still had things to do.

“Mmm, good morning.” She lifted her head and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. “Are you impatient to start the day? Or can we just stay here for a few more minutes?” Though, grabbing breakfast did sound like a good idea.

But staying in bed sounded much better.

~~~

Mikhail hadn’t fully intended to, but with the asinine words Kirsikka spoke, and her last admittance, he lifted his hand and slapped her across her cheek. Nothing that would terribly hurt, maybe cause some light reddening, as he couldn’t ever truly hurt her, but enough to hopefully wake up her and put some fucking sense into her brain.

“Of course he fucking wouldn’t,” Mikhail said, mindful of raising his voice to not disturb the other two who may be asleep. “Cause he was an egotistical narcissist who cared more about what he wanted than what you wanted.” He always thought the relationship was manipulative, bordering on abusive, but it had always been hard to get Kirsikka to see that.

“I had a fascinating evening one time with this woman who told me a story of her most recent relationship she had just gotten out of. He also wouldn’t let her leave every time she tried, and it slowly destroyed her spirit, that she couldn’t recognize who she was anymore. She wilted, like a flower not feeling the sunshine on its petals.” But to him it had been clear that her spirit had returned, even if he only knew her for that one night.

“She eventually did manage to escape his shackles, and oh how she thrived! Her songs were definitely telling of that, as well as our night together,” he said with a smirk.

“But anyways, I think you’d be a fool to continue pledging loyalty to a man like that, who is now dead, or undead, or whatever the fuck he is, instead of actually living your life. I’m not saying you have to go up to Drazhan’s room and give him an answer right now either, but I do know you can’t keep giving him mixed signals like that. It’s not fair to him.”

 

[Lucyfer]

Varick smiled as Tamsin began to rouse herself, and of course, enjoyed the little peck as his arm tightened around her, squeezing her a bit more against him, as he knew what was to come, even as Tamsin resisted it. He wanted to resist it, too. They were on her schedule here, so far as he was concerned.

Well, her schedule, until they were found by someone who wanted to do her harm.

Or until he got word of an issue not too far away.

“Good morning,” he greeted after she settled back, sitting up just a bit, but not getting up and out of the bed. He chuckled at her query, “this is on your expense,” he reminded, “and at your leisure to explore and question. If you want to stay here a little longer…I’m not going to protest it,” he said, “this is nice.”

He could never stay like this. Live like this. However, now and then, there was nothing wrong with a soft bed, a warm companion, and no rush. No urgent need to attend to, no immediate need for money. That was the usual – a rush to fix a situation, or to earn some money so he could buy necessities for his journey.

Soon, the anxiety of not having those worries would nag at him, though.

But, with any luck, maybe not for a day or two. Maybe not for a week. That seemed terribly unlikely, and would take a bit away from this whole experience. Being unable to take it for granted was both terrible, and wonderful, at once.

~***~

Mikhail’s action was far more shocking than it was painful. Kirsikka looked up immediately, hatred blazing out at the act, ice coursing through her veins, but it was held back. She had the infamous temper of a redhead, but this was still Mikhail in front of her. He had a certain immunity to her rage that only centuries of knowing each other could inspire, and so it remained restrained and unreturned, as she lifted her hand to her cheek and listened.

The words were somehow as distant as they were close, ringing in her head like the blood that rushed to flush both of her cheeks in anger. The flush only remained on one, of course – the one he hit.

The urge to snap at him and deny his words was still there, even with his little addition of one of his many flings. ‘What do you know of love, Mikhail?’ the snap was there, but Mikhail knew plenty. Perhaps he wasn’t attached to anyone in the same way, but he had…well, healthy ones, platonic ones, with Malina and Kirsikka. Healthy enough to value himself without ruining his relationships.

He'd balanced a relationship with both Malina and Kirsikka, after all, never letting their troubles, trouble his relationship with either.

There was another part of her that wanted to admit she didn’t know what living her life was…but that was also wrong. Even without Dravon, she had been exploring the truth in lies. Her history with the White Sun and fascination with it went back centuries, as did plenty of other smaller research projects. She knew who she was.

Admittedly, it was that person who looked in and found impossible things. Hidden things. And that might just be why Dravon would grasp on now, again, because who else but Kirsikka would find a truth in the lies of the impossibility of reviving the dead?

But so much of her was Dravon-inspired. She’d built her identity on the icy hell she could wreak on others, and escaping that cage she’d made for herself wasn’t easy. She was still mostly blind in one eye thanks to her inability to let it go and heal properly; not that she was trying to let on that was still a problem, but Mikhail was still somewhat blurred if she let herself acknowledge the vision in that eye. ‘How healthy is this?’ It wasn’t. It never was. She knew that.

Her fatal flaw had always been that it came easy to her – so she didn’t think. She knew without understanding, and now she was forced to confront this. Understand this.

She could choose to have a life after the White Sun, or she could choose not to.

“I fucking hate you.” She didn’t. Mixed signals indeed, she was great at those, even before, as she ground out the words and looked away. Because once again, she could feel something like a future at her fingertips. Something where this was all in the past and she could…rebuild something for future mages, to at least educate them. Something that didn’t indoctrinate them like the Council. Something that didn’t leave their only real path for fellowship as the Ordo, either.

She should want it. She should want a future, and she should want to live, but everything in her protested against it. It was uncomfortable. It didn’t feel right. And it was as pathetic as a child that resisted eating vegetables because they didn’t know what the veggies tasted like, unaware the only way to get to tastier food was to try it.

“I told him I’d give him an answer tomorrow so I wasn’t going to run up and do anything. I am aware of my temper and what I would have said if I spoke too soon. Why do you think I told him to get you?” because she could talk to Mikhail in a way she couldn’t talk to Drazhan. “I know I’ve been cruel to him. I have also told him several times to leave, so he has himself to blame for some of this. He could have spared himself.”

 

[cleopat]

Tamsin thought about getting up and getting the day started. It was best to be productive as early as possible to talk to as many people as possible, right?

But as Varick’s arm tightened around her, and as she felt his promised strength, other activities popped in her head. Sure, it wasn’t the most pressing thing, but what was a little extra time before starting the day.

“I think we can stay here for another half hour.” With those words, she shifted so she straddled Varick’s lap, intentions for what to do in that time quite clear. She was already awake, but she could always use it as an excuse to help wake her up even more.

Like they needed to use an excuse. “What do you say?”

~~~

Mikhail wasn’t the least bit worried about her infamous rage after he slapped her. She would never hurt him intentionally, just as he would never hurt her, unless it was by delivering the cold hard truth.

“You don’t hate me,” Mikhail said with full confidence. “You hate that I’m telling you what you need to hear, not what you want to hear.” And maybe that was why they were friends, they refused to lie to the other, but rather help them out in the troubles they dealt with.

Not that he could drag her into the mess he was currently dealing with. It was his own problem that affected only him, and no one else, and it would stay that way.

“Sounds like you’re just trying to push him away because you’re scared of what you’re feeling for him. You’re scared of actually living your life beyond what you’ve grown used to for centuries, which included Dravon. Your new reality could be so nice, if you only allow yourself to realize this.” But would she allow it? He could only do so much to encourage her to let Dravon go, to realize there was no further chance with him.

And there was a willing, eager Primal upstairs who wanted to help her go forward.

 

[Lucyfer]

Varick wasn’t at all surprised that Tamsin didn’t mind delaying. He smirked as she moved up to straddle his lap, suggesting they had a half hour they could waste. He wondered if she’d really keep track of such a thing. He certainly wouldn’t be keeping track as he let the arm that had been holding her go to her thigh to hold her where she was.

“I don’t mind delaying,” Varick answered her query, quite aware of how she intended to spend their time. He still took a moment to stretch out underneath her, since he was certainly going to be doing some more moving soon.

That was all the time he’d bother to waste, though.

He sat up so he was even with her and pressed a hungry kiss to her throat, his other hand already moving to paw at the nuisance sleep clothes in the way of his plans, as his lips would trail up until they’d captured her own, and they could both dissolve into bliss for a half hour…or longer, if she didn’t keep track of time.

~***~

‘Semantics.’ Kirsikka wanted to accuse Mikhail as he indicated she didn’t hate him. Sometimes it felt very close, but then, wasn’t that always true with those she felt close to? Despite the icy chill she had become known for, her emotions ran on extremes at times. At least, love and hatred did. Not entirely indistinguishable – with Mikhail, it was true, she never did hate him.

With Dravon, though…well, she probably had.

“I didn’t want a nice future,” well, that was true, “I just wanted a future where I proved my oldest theory right and I watched the Council of Light lose everything.” Like she had lost everything. She wanted them to be as far from a future as she was. She still wanted that, only now, she supposed, she had Malina on her side for that.

Malina might be even more vindictive than she was about it.

Did Malina imagine a future?

“I didn’t care what came after that. I never saw an after…so yes, of course I wanted to push him away. There was nothing for Drazhan.” When she reached the end of her obsession, it would be over, in some way she couldn’t explain. She didn’t think she’d take her own life, but…it still felt all over.

That sensation of change was there. That possibility. It was scary, because she wasn’t sure she’d overcome The End when it arrived, when the Council was destroyed, and she was proven Right. What was over that hill that wasn’t decay? “I lost who I was before Mont Pellinor, Mikhail, and I’m afraid of losing who I am now, too. I have a sense of purpose, of self, in all this…all this hatred and spite. Without it….” She shook her head, sighed. “…but I can…imagine. Just a little. Something coming from the ashes to help guide the magically inclined. Exploring other old theories I had…one of us finally figuring out where magic comes from and why it works. Drazhan.”

 

[cleopat]

Tamsin definitely did not keep track of time.

The bliss and euphoria they fell into caused her to lose track of time, but it would be impossible for her to admit she regretted it, when the exact opposite was true. And not that much more time passed, only about an hour later.

And Tamsin didn’t want to get up, but she knew if she didn’t get up soon, she wouldn’t get up at all, and the day would be wasted. And her stomach was growling with hunger from their previous activity.

With a groan, Tamsin peeled herself away from Varick, no matter how much she wanted to continue to lay next to him, feeling his warmth and listening to his heartbeat. “If we actually plan on getting out and finding people today, we should probably move.” Which, after she actually started moving, sounded like a great idea.

But so did getting food.

~~~

“And what about a future after the Council of Light loses everything?” Which, judging by how Malina was there with Kirsikka…he imagined was something that was close to happening. More details Mikhail still wanted to know.

What future did Mikhail imagine for himself?

He honestly couldn’t imagine a future where he was still alive, but he wouldn’t tell Kirsikka that. There was too much on his plate, and those who…well, he wasn’t sure what they wanted from him. But he wasn’t willing to give it.

But fuck if he wasn’t going to make sure those he loved wasn’t going to get a nice future.

“Then I want you to hold on to that little spark that you can imagine after all this. Be that beautiful phoenix I know you can be and rise from the ashes with that gorgeous Primal who’s willing to follow after you.” He reached one hand out to brush a strand of Kirsikka’s hair behind her ear. “Maybe use one of those other ideas to keep on going if you have to. And then after that, maybe you’ll find another grand adventure.”

 

[Lucyfer]

Naturally, the time slipped by, far more than they should have allowed, but Varick wasn’t complaining. It didn’t seem that Tamsin was, either, although she did realize they had to move. Not that Varick made the first move. He was content to stay there as long as she liked, so it was good she was the more driven one in this situation. Given how much they were going to relay on her questioning, he was still inclined to let her set the pace.

He wanted answers, too, but this wasn’t his town. These weren’t his people.

He chuckled a bit as he turned on his side to watch her put herself back together, “You know, we could always wait until tomorrow,” although, he didn’t keep to that, and he did get up, and begin to piece himself together.

Despite being in Tamsin’s home, he still put his sword on his back, and wore his armor.

He never went without either unless he was truly safe, back at his home…and even then, those times were rare that he walked around there without armor. He had learned long ago not even home was safe, after all.

When they were all situated, they headed down to grab a quick bite to eat, and prepare for the day of finding this blacksmith, who was hopefully still in the town.

~***~

Kirsikka snorted at the idea of being a phoenix and shook her head, “Malina’s the phoenix, Mikhail.” Flame. Rebirth. It all suited her narrative, although Kirsikka didn’t think she’d like the new Malina anymore than she liked the old one. New feathers, same soul. She and Malina hadn’t gotten along in school, although she’d never really understood why.

Then again, she hadn’t gotten along with most for one reason or another. Either they thought she was inept and mocked her, or they became jealous once she figured out how to use magic in a way they couldn’t.

“I can’t even use fire anymore,” a twirl of her fingers gusted the wind that was feeding the flames to keep the mirror alive. “but that’s a problem for another day,” if ever. She was likely just going to have to relinquish it along with her eye. “Thank you for coming to talk to me, Mikhail.”

She’d needed it.

It wasn’t like she could talk to Malina, and talking to Drazhan…well, they weren’t there yet. There were barriers in conversation, the major one being herself and her fears of letting him close. Those weren’t going to dissipate overnight, but…at least now she had a thought process for them.

At least she could start to…loosen her grip on the immediate past. Difficult as it would be with Dravon still alive. “Let Malina know when she wakes I’m going to need her for one thing before I start scrying.”

Wydan, the loose end. If it hadn’t been for him, Malina would have never known the fake face Kirsikka wore. If it hadn’t been for him, so much trouble could have been avoided. He’d have to die, if the Council hadn’t already executed him. Malina would know how she might find him, and what sort of guards would be around so Kirsikka could be prepared to blast them to kingdom come.

 

[cleopat]

Tamsin groaned at Varick’s little tease. “Oh, how tempted I am to take up on your offer.” To stay in bed, enjoying each other’s company? Maybe tomorrow…Depending on who she talked to that day, what she found out, if there wasn’t a new lead to follow.

Something told her there wouldn’t be.

They grabbed a bite to eat, and over breakfast Tamsin relayed to Varick her plans for the day, which mainly only involved finding the blacksmith. To find anyone else in the city who may know something…that would be luck. She didn’t know where anyone else would be, if they still lived in their old homes, or if they even still lived.

But to find Marcel, the blacksmith…that would be as easy as locating the blacksmith’s shop, which Tamsin easily found after navigating the two of them through the streets, as if she never left.

So much was still the same, that it almost ached her heart knowing she wasn’t returning to her old home, to her parents.

The young apprentice was the first person she spotted, and as they approached, he looked up at them. “Can I help ya…mister?” he said, looking at Varick, though stumbling just a bit as he noticed the trademark Primal eyes.

And Tamsin couldn’t fault him for thinking Varick was the one here for the visit. He did have a sword strapped to his back, after all. “Ah, actually I’m here to see if Marcel is here?”

“Ah yeah, he’s in the back. I can go get him, Miss…”

“Tell him it’s Tamsin. We go way back.”

~~~

Mikhail wanted to argue against Kirsikka’s statement, that there could be two phoenixes in their story, but he remained mute, only giving her a small, crooked smile and soft shake of his head. “If you need help with figuring out that fire issue, feel free to come back to me. I would suggest asking Malina, but…” he trailed off. He knew his sister. He also knew if he tried to ask her, she would quickly figure out why and remain mum on the situation.

He brought Kirsikka into his arms for a quick, warm hug. “Please don’t be a stranger.” Mikhail’s voice was barely above a whisper, but he knew she heard it. And how he wanted to tell her his own issues at a future visit, but now wasn’t the time. There was a lot more going on beyond his problems. It wasn’t appropriate for their first visit since the Great Argument.

He broke away and headed up to his room. As promised, he told Malina to go see Kirsikka after the fire mage woke up, to which she wasn’t exactly thrilled about, but upon her own silent vow to atone for what she did with the Council, she silently made her way to where Kirsikka was.

“What is it you need?” No good morning, no greetings. Straight to the point.

 

[Lucyfer]

The blacksmith shop was easy to find, and there was an apprentice out working. Varick gave him a polite nod as he greeted him, but didn’t speak. Varick wasn’t the one there looking for anything, so he allowed Tamsin to take over, requesting Marcel. The lad didn’t hesitate, and he ran off to fetch Marcel.

Varick lowered his voice.

“If you think it would go easier to have me at some distance, I can do that.” He knew Tamsin didn’t think it was fair, but none of this was about fair. This was just about her getting information from someone who knew her parents and could help her. If they were going to be hindered by his presence, then he could step away.

Not out of sight, but…enough that people felt comfortable.

Enough that he could still see Tamsin.

Of course, it was also possible the blacksmith remembered and liked him. Varick didn’t – but Varick didn’t remember most of the people he helped. He helped too many in his long life, after all. And he didn’t expect to see the vast majority of them ever again.

~***~

Kirsikka was almost certain she’d gotten more hugs that night from Mikhail than in the past century, but she knew that was a lie. Even so, she returned the small affection, and when Mikhail left, she went about finishing up her glass and turning them into the three mirrors she wanted for the act of scrying, well prepared by the time Malina got up and joined her outside.

She wasn’t expecting a good morning.

She was rather glad to get down to business. “Wydan.” Kirsikka stated, “I need to know if he’s still alive, and where to locate him. If I attempt to scry, he’s the only one still with a link to me who could possibly know,” sans Dravon, but she didn’t…quite know how this undead thing was going to work. “If he can see where I am, he can endanger your brother’s location.”

That was the best route to get Malina to cooperate without a fuss. Keep Mikhail in it, and remind Malina he was potentially in danger for harboring her, if he was caught. Which, so long as Wydan lived, he was. “I plan to go kill him and get rid of that loose thread, so,” she gestured out, and shifted her weight to her other leg.

It was in Malina’s court to tell her what she knew so that Kirsikka didn’t actually fuck this up.

 

[cleopat]

Tamsin frowned when Varick asked if it would be easier for him to stay back. She truly did consider it a moment, but she shook her head. He was old enough to remember the Primal that saved the babies, and if he was like she remembered him…Varick being a Primal should be no issue at all.

So she shook her head. “No, you can stay near. It’ll be fine.” She hoped.

But she was interrupted for any further comment when a familiar voice bellowed out, “Well little Tams, I wasn’t expecting you!”

Tamsin beamed and turned around, seeing the man she was close to all those years ago - though a little older and a little grayer, just around the edges. She ran towards him, and like he expected it, Marcel picked her up and spun her around. Like the two old friends they were. “When Antony told me Tamsin was here to see me, I didn’t quite expect it would be you! But don’t get me wrong, I’m very pleased to see it was you.”

“Well, I didn’t quite expect to be here myself, but circumstances arose.” Which instantly reminded her, “Oh! And this is Varick. I don’t know if you remember him, but he’s the Primal who saved me when I was a baby.”

“Varick,” Marcel repeated, reaching one hand out to shake his. “I think we met once when you were last in Antalya, but I never thanked you for saving all those babies, little Tams here included. So, thank you. But I am curious as to why you two are traveling now.”

Tamsin sighed, “That is a long story that I don’t know if I can really say now. But, is there somewhere we can talk in private?”

“Sure, the back of the shop is private enough.”

~~~

Malina sighed at the request. Oh, how she wanted to deny her…but not doing so could put her brother’s solitude in jeopardy.

Even if she was angry at him, she couldn’t put his life at stake.

“I honestly don’t know if he’s still alive. If he is…he won’t be for long. The Council wants him dead. If he’s alive, he’ll be in their clutches, most likely in some cell in the citadel.” Where they could keep a close eye on him, where he couldn’t use magic either without them knowing, or at all, if they had the shackles on.

“Do you need me for anything else?” Malina hated herself for asking that…but if it helped her brother in the long run, or anything she could silently atone for, then she would. Just…without saying it.

 

[Lucyfer]

Varick stayed back as Tamsin reunited with Marcel. Of course, he didn’t recognize the man, but was not surprised when Marcel recognized him. He accepted the hand and shook, as Marcel seemed cordial enough. “Mmm,” he hummed, and nodded as Tamsin indicated there was indeed a reason the two were together.

He dropped Marcel’s hand, and followed the man to the more private area, glancing around as he did. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary for a blacksmith. Nothing that screamed out to him as useful, some clue kept and hidden away all these years from Tamsin about her family, from whatever friendship he held with Tamsin’s family.

And he knew he couldn’t say much to try and get to the heart of it. What Tamsin revealed was her choice.

When they reached the back, he found a place on the wall to lean rather than take a seat, near the entryway. Just in case Antony chose to try and interrupt, he could make sure he didn’t get far in while they were discussing something private.

“Thank you for seeing us on short notice,” Varick added once they were back there, “Hope we aren’t interrupting any critical business ventures,” he doubted it, though not by much. Everyone had to make a living, even if it was mostly making horseshoes. “Tams is here looking for some answers about her family. Said you were good friends with them.”

That didn’t explain why he was there, but all of that, he left to Tamsin.

~***~

Kirsikka could only sigh at the answer. The Citadel. That wasn’t ideal – and yet, of course, it was. If she could get in and strike someone right in the heart of the Citadel, it would renew the fear of her they should have continued to carry in their hearts. “I’ve never been there, you know,” she said as Malina asked if there was anything else.

Obviously, there was.

“Since I can’t scry without worry, I can’t seek Wydan out the traditional way. If you’re sure he’s at the Citadel, in the cells, I need a portal there,” she couldn’t create one if she couldn’t see, but Malina could. She had a history. She’d been there, she knew how it looked, she’d know where she could make an entry.

“I can likely make a way back, but I’d prefer if you could make one back. I can take a mirror with me, and you can use one of its matches. Two minutes is all I should need to ascertain if Wydan is there or not, and make sure he perishes.” She wasn’t worried about the guards, or anything else, for that matter.

Then again, when was she?