Kothos (prime)/More Than This

Restday must get its name from some reality as different from his own as fire is to water, Danell considered, as he gingerly navigated the narrow stairway from Ilstar Lane. Crowned above were his meager lodgings, one of the few residences scattered about the breweries and shops of the East Landing streets. Everything ached, thanks to the radiating migraine plodding about his skull to the rhythm of his labored footfalls. He stopped for a moment as a particularly dizzying pang traveled down from his brow to his throat. He moved his wrist-thick braid away from the sensitive spot, thinking it would be him to push so hard, that even his hair hurt.

Despite his abject misery, Danell was pleased, the control had been much easier, today. The pain was lasting evidence of it, and thus the feeling of satisfaction accompanied the worst of the it. He had spent the better part of three hours in the so-called Reiver Village, marshalling the seismic energy below to erupt upon the armored brutes. The feedback from the earthen manipulation is what caused his current state, what he had worked so hard to practice. He was so engrossed in his review that his yellow pine door being open barely registered. The latch was rusted and no longer fitted snugly in the cradle, a good breeze could push it open. He kept little of worth here; it was the quiet part of town. Tonight, however, had another intruder besides the wind, just inside his tiny room's doorway, a man leaned upon his sole window, staring out at the Bay.

Danell hadn't seen his brother in a few days, and he took a moment to reflect on how much Kothos had changed, from the other chapters of their shared lives. No one here in the Landing would recognize Kothos as the quiet, scrawny boy that Danell had raised, in the manor house's servant quarters back in Brisker's Cove. Though...there was more of the lad to him, today, than Danell had seen in decades. Kothos looked downright glum, his normally sumptuous garb hanging over his shoulders in a shapeless drape, the colors washed out by the waning light. Upon his bare chest was a mass of mottled bruises, painful-looking, but Danell doubted they were the source of the priest's distress. Kothos stared back at him, and crossed the small room, taking Danell's hand in his own. Danell gave him a hug, and started to ask what was wrong, when Kothos shuddered, and dropped to the floor, sitting down hard. He followed, stroking his brother's trembling shoulders, and waited. It was his old habit, in his memory he could see Kothos crouching in the manor house's stables, staying out of sight, or decades later, when Danell finally found him after decades of searching, hiding in a tent of a burlesque show, with paint on his face and a haunted look in his eyes.

Since then, Kothos had found his calling and peace, both, but the latter was clearly rattled. Danell waited for him to soothe, and slowly, the priest took one breath after another, and finally told him about the day's events. The names meant little to Danell, he'd never been to the Harbor, but it mattered not, the story was an old one, of spies, betrayal, and cruelty. For not the first time, he wondered if Kothos wouldn't go back to cloister, perhaps it denied him experience, but at the cost of his hard-won serenity, and safety? He gave voice to those questions, and Kothos shook his head, long tangled curls dragging over his holy symbol.

"Socius, as he started on her, told us all something. He said this was for us. To set an example of what would happen." Kothos took his brother's hand again, and Danell knew a flush of fraternal fear, clearly, the priest meant to return to the scene of this harrowing brutality. "But I kept thinking about what happened to Mother."

Danell swallowed, nodding, seeing the bridle in his mind's eye. Despite both brothers being estranged from her, the manor lord had brought his younger brother out to watch, that day. Kothos had much in common with the woman's spirit, and they meant for him to learn otherwise. Kothos drew his long fingers across his bruises, and continued. "They made an example out of her, too. And I need them to know- those faces in our past, and Socius now- it won't work. It will never work. We may not stop them, but I'm not afraid of them. Of him."

His brother shuddered again, and Danell absently watched the scented smoke curl about them both as Kothos settled sleepily against him. Just as he was wondering if he could get the priest over to his pallet, Kothos whispered one last, solemn affirmation.

"No matter what they did, what they deserve. I can bear witness, for them."

The Ivasian fell asleep on the floor, and Danell lost himself in his worry, and thoughts. And perhaps, a little bit of pride.