Dichotomy

[DotCom]

It took Mori's voice to bring her from the numb field of fear -- stars, she had nearly lost her daughter, her child; Tai had nearly died! -- into action, first slow and clumsy, then faster as the fear faded behind the pain and cold of her twins.

She lurched to her feet, gently shushing Tai and Kohe both, the violet threads of her mind curling around the pink and indigo, offering as much warmth as she could. She looked over Kohe's head, into Mori's eyes, and she took a deep breath, and she nodded.

"Lyra said she's already warned the Healers. She said they would be coming here -- " Rora felt her temper flared dangerously and quickly subdued it. Now was not the time for rage or panic. Not until she knew her daughters would survive this second round of life threatening danger. "They'll have heated blankets, fruit juice -- " She broke off again, running no more than a few feet and stopping abruptly, whispering into Kohe's ear the whole time, making sure to keep her in sight of Tai and vice versa.

"Your brother. Lyra," she started. She could feel, distantly, Lyra's concern, Rask's pain, and knew there would be trouble. But the idea of tramping back through the forest for them when her own children were sobbing, hypothermic, in her arms, was beyond unbearable.

"She's with him," she said carefully. She loathed the idea of asking Mori to leave his brother, particularly when his actions had just saved their daughter's life. But she was a mother. She knew he would understand. "Lyra won't let anything happen. We'll send the Healers back for them."

Tai wailed again from Mori's arms, a weaker sound that dissolved into another fit of coughing, and then Rora couldn't wait any longer. She darted off into the city, holding Kohe steady against her ches.t

--

Lyra felt the familiar thrum of panic in her chest as she felt Rask begin to shut down, but she did not let it overwhelm her. She had learned. She knew better than that. And there was too much to do here. Later, she would panic. Later, she would look back on those long moments watching the current carry Rask away, and she would remember.

But now, she could feel her mate succumbing to shock, and she acted, careful, stoic, as any Keeper would.

She draped the heavy blanket over his arched back, looping an arm around his waist as he vomited to ease some of the pressure off limbs weakened by cold and exhaustion. When he was done, she eased him back into her, cradling his head against her chest, wrapping the blanket around them both, to trap what warmth she could offer against his pallid skin.

Her eyes were hard with fear, but she kept this from him as she let him lean against her, offering warmth with every part of her body she could. It would be best to get him out of the cold, but she could not hope to carry him back to the Healer's dens, not without risking further injury.

Instead, she cradled him against her chest as best she could, looping her arms around his waist, gently rubbing warmth back into his chest and arms, bracing herself for his pain.

And the whole time, she kept the fear and panic from him, allowing only the soothing warmth of scarlet threads to wrap around his mind wholly.

"It's alright," she soothed, gentle, confident. "You're alright, love. The pain will pass. The cold will pass. You're going to be alright. You know that, don't you? You're going to be alright, and soon the little ones will be waking you too early for breakfast again. Just hold on. Just listen to me. Focus on me, alright? Rask, my orai los, I need you to stay awake, alright? I know you're tired. I know. But you did it. You saved the little ones. They'll live, because of you, and you can rest soon, I promise. Right now, you need to stay here with me. Please, Rask. You have to fight. Fight, love. Fight for me."

 

[Kaisaan]

As long as Kohe could see Tai, she didn't care what was happening or where their parents were taking them. She had her sister and that's all she wanted. It was a single-minded purpose that didn't waver and yet she was aware of so much more than just her familial desire to be near Tai. She knew of her mother's desperate need not to panic even as she wanted to do exactly that. She knew that her father was both devastated by what had happened to Tai because he'd been through it himself and at the same time, profoundly worried for the brother that wasn't his brother. That Lyra was close to terrified chaos herself.

And she knew that Rask was struggling not to fade, that he'd saved Tai. It was his duty to do so.

How she knew, she didn't know, didn't care. Her sister was crying, that was all she cared about. Such was easy to believe as they were met by the healers who rushed them away into a large room specially heated for victims of cold-shock. Their parents were made to lay them down - on the same bed - as the healers got to work warming them.

But Kohe didn't care. She didn't feel the cold or the pain of warming up. She didn't notice anything but her sister.

Her hand was clutching Tai's and she refused to let go, the only time she was forced to do so being when her soppy nightgown had to come off and Tai's, too. But then they were free to stay close again and the twins did so, their parents hovering over them, Rora now with Tai and Mori with Kohe.

--

Awake. Focused. Gods, did she know what she asked? He was so tired and there was no pain. He didn't even think he felt cold anymore...but that was a bad thing, wasn't it? It was so hard to think. Was his heart slowing? Yes, yes it felt like it was. That made sense, didn't it? Slower blood, less oxygen, slower heart rate.

That wasn't a good thing.

Fight? She wanted him to fight? Fight what? He just wanted to sleep...but sleep was bad. Why was sleep bad? Oh, right, because Tai wanted breakfast.

Green eyes blinked, hazed and Rask frowned, blinking more rapidly - or at least it felt so but in reality wasn't that swiftly at all - and he flickered his eyes around until he found Lyra, understanding sparking them. Tai wasn't here jumping on their bed. Tai was with healers. Kohe, too. They were by the river and he was going into rapid shock.

Somehow that should have been far more alarming than it was.

"M'here. C-cold..no' cold..." No, it wasn't cold at all, in fact, it was getting warmer, wasn't it? Green eyes blinked slowly, looking up into tangerine, finding it hard to focus much less speak. "M'fighting..." He was trying, he really was. It was just so hard...

--

Mori watched the healers swarm around his children, wrapping them in heated blankets, getting juice into them, taking vitals and taking care of them as only healers could. Tai was still crying, not having stopped, but Kohe was quiet. Too quiet and he almost wasn't surprised when those scarlet and sapphire eyes finally seemed to find his after searching for a moment and his daughter spoke one word.

"Rask."

Alarm jolted through the black Aavan and suddenly he was snapping out orders for a rescue team, feeling a flooding guilt for having forgotten at all.

Kohe, for her part, had gone back to her sister, absolutely nothing else important once more.

 

[DotCom]

Tai began to settle when she realized Kohe wasn't crying anymore. There was a thick pall of fear and exhaustion around her, she could feel it coming from all angles, mostly concern, and mostly over her, from her mother, her father, her sister.

And her lungs still ached and burned from the water that had been there, her fingers and toes screaming in pain as they began to rewarm. She'd fought the juice at first, reverting to a state of panic when she felt more liquid coursing down her throat. She'd choked and screamed and coughed up more water and juice until at last Rora had beat aside the Healer with a glance, cradling Tai to her chest just long enough to get the juice down, and not once did Tai look away from her sister.

She was still cold and shaky and afraid. She still wanted to cry. But Kohe had gone silent, so she did, too, sniffing quietly, trembling against her sister.

"I made you a bridge," she said after a long moment, her voice laden with a sudden sleepiness. "I made you a bridge and flowers and fireflies in the forest. I wanted to show you, but it broke. It was too dark, there wasn't enough light, and I...the water, I..."

She shivered suddenly, violently and another thought jumped into her mind. "Kohe, where's Uncle Rask?"

--

Lyra took a deep breath and forced the fear and panic away. Rask was fading fast, and she knew her stoicism would not hold long if she could not find something else to occupy her mind. Then she would break, and she would be useless to him.

Get it together, she growled at herself. This will not end the way Cofur did. You owe him more than that.

Shivering slightly, she curled closer to Rask, wishing she could give him more warmth, keenly aware that his icy skin had already leeched away what remained of her body heat. If she'd been born a Pyrokinetic, she'd have built him a fire, a hundred fires, or stoked her internal furnace to raise her core temperature. As it were, she only held him closer, whispering into his mind meaningless words, terrified to stop.

"I know," she said. "I know. Just a little longer, I promise. The Healers, they're coming. They'll help you. And then we'll go see the twins, yes? We'll go visit Kohe and Tai, and your little monster will thank you, because you saved her life, Rask. Okay? You hear me? You saved her, so you hold on, until -- "

She hadn't heard them coming until they draped another heated blanket over her shoulders, and she relinquished Rask to them in an instant as they wrapped him in blankets, spiriting him away in a pod of heat while Lyra trailed behind, hardly daring to breathe.

 

[Kaisaan]

Kohe didn't hesitate to gather her younger twin close as Tai began to speak and it was with equal parts love and equal parts protection that was beyond her years that her small hands smoothed down the white-purple mane of her sibling, shushing noises in her mouth that others in the room paused to hear, but did not stop. No, it broke their hearts and they merely watched the scene as they moved about, worried for both precious young ones.

"Shh, Tai. You wanted to surprise me. I know. Shh, it's all right. I'm here now. You don't need to be afraid." Kohe whispered to her sister, instinctively knowing it would not work, it would not make the fear leave, it would not make the bad memories go away, nor the repercussions of them. She knew it like she knew so many other things and for the first time, a spark of anger ignited deep down within her.

What good was it to know something if you couldn't change it?

That anger stayed where it was, though, just the barest hint of a spark that needed more kindling before it could become a flame. And she was too young for it to be a flame yet, so Kohe ignored it and she rested her head on Tai's, slow tears dripping down her face again as she shivered beneath the warmth of the blankets and the room, watching as her father was finally pulled away from the bed by the healers, getting warmed up himself, too. He'd not gotten completely soaked in his search - not knowing where to search - but he needed drying all the same, their mother too and mismatched eyes of scarlet and sapphire looked to green ones solemnly.

"Get dry, Mama. I have Tai." she assured softly before closing her eyes again and hugging her sister closer, answering her twin's question now. "Uncle Rask is with Aunt Lyra. They'll be all right. He'll be here soon."

--

Rask listened to his mate's voice in a haze, wanting more than anything to be drawn back by her words, fighting the sluggish warmth coming over him, but it was getting harder and he was slipping. He could feel it and suddenly Lyra's words didn't seem to important as the sound of her voice itself, soothing, like she was trying to coax him into sleep. But she wouldn't do that. That's not what she wanted and Rask struggled weakly to not sink into the oblivion that awaited him.

It was getting harder to breathe, though, and his heart...was it even beating anymore? He could hardly feel it and the world was getting dark around the edges...

And then there was pain.

It was a distant kind of pain at first, but it started to grow as it seemed fire spread across his skin and Rask finally started to come back to reality, crying out as his limbs seemed to erupt with the feeling of needles being pushed into his skin. Logically he knew it meant his blood was starting to flow again, that he was getting warm, but right now he didn't care.

It hurt!

He was being held down on a bed by faces he didn't recognize as they tried to wrap him more securely in heating blankets that only caused more pain. And he couldn't see Lyra anywhere.

It was that thought that drove him from cooperatively scared to terrified panic in an instant and Rask truly started to fight the healers trying to help him. He would have had no problems overpowering them all if he'd been at full strength, but his body was as weak as it had been in a long time and the more he struggled, the more tired he felt and the more desperate he became as his body shook uncontrollably with both cold-shock and fear, seeing things both as they were and memories long distant, and Rask finally lost the battle with his emotions, starting to cry. Depending on which images flashing through his head were true, he might be punished for it, but he didn't care.

He wanted his Bonded!

 

[DotCom]

She had known.

Of course she had known.

Why hadn't Tai guessed her surprise would be for naught? She had tried to build something for Kohe, and instead succeed only in terrifying her sister, her family, in hurting Uncle Rask. She could feel them all now. She felt how the Healers almost had to drag Mama away, and how Papa had to do that thing he sometimes did when Mama got very scared and she accidentally made bad things happen. She could feel them watching her and Kohe from somewhere else, talking to each other without saying words, kind of like how Tai and Kohe did, trying to make each other feel better, trying not to think about how she had almost died.

She could feel Kohe trying to do the same thing as they trembled against each other.

Tai felt a horrible wave of guilt.

"Kohe, I'm...I'm sorry," she hiccuped wretchedly. She was still shivering too hard to really speak, but she didn't want anyone else to hear, anyway. This was Kohe's special sorry. She would have to say it over and over again, to Mama, and to Papa, and to Uncle Rask. And to Aunt Lyra who stood somewhere trying very hard to not remember something.

"I just wanted to play a game, and then...and then I..." She shook her head, and curled closer to her twin, tiny fingers buried in the folds of the new heavy clothes they'd been dressed in.

"I'm sorry, Kohe. I'm so sorry. I love you. Don't go. Please don't go." She knew, logically, Kohe wasn't going anywhere. They were weak and tired and cold, and Tai never let Kohe go anywhere without her, anyway. But she felt a change in her sister she couldn't describe. It went deep. As deep as this fear of the water Tai suddenly couldn't shake.

And it was her fault.

"Okay, sissy?" Tai insisted, reverting as she dropped into exhaustion. "I'm sorry. I'm real sorry I made you get scared. I just wanted to play. I just wanted to surprise you. I'm sorry..."

--
It had been a long time since Lyra felt that surge of protective rage, but she knew it at once as it crested inside of her, not hot, but cold, cold enough to burn, cold enough to freeze. For a moment, she was paralyzed, her face blank, lungs seized in a frenzy of fear and anger, her shoulders stiff and rigid. They had taken Rask back to another room, to warm him intravenously, they said, because he was Aavan, and they didn't have time to use blankets and heated juices. And she had let them take him, because he was fading, she could feel it, dying again, for the first time in years, and for a moment, it was like nothing had changed.

She was back on that river bank, watching Rask, watching Cofur, pull away from life, while she stood there, unable to do anything.

A wave of familiar self-loathing broke over her, and she beat it back, knowing better, knowing what it cost Rask.

But he was fighting. He was hurting, he was scared, and he needed her, and she couldn't do anything --

A strangled sound escaped her lips, half sigh, half whimper. How had she ended up here again?

And then she was folding it away. Not forever. That was bad. That was wrong. That would hurt Rask, too. But neither could she help him if she stood here wallowing in guilt and fear. Later. Later she would break down, panic. She would go to him, if he asked it of her, but not now. Now, she needed to do something before she shattered. Now, Rask needed her.

She pushed through the crowd of Healers, mostly Aavan now, her face a mask of determination. Lyra was strong. She had always been strong. Even if their larger sizes, she could have incapacitated one, maybe even two of them, and they were now all in their smaller forms. She would beat them all off if she had to.

But Lyra's devotion to Rask was all but legendary, at least when it came to people (she thought were) trying to hurt him. She grabbed the cuff of one Healer who'd dared to move to slowly, throwing her to the floor.

"What are you doing?" she growled.

The Healer quailed, looked around for assistance, found none.

"I...we...fluids, warm fluids, to bring up his internal temperature."

"Then do it, and be done."

She allowed them another thirty seconds with Rask, with juices and transfusions and heated blankets, and the whole time she whispered in his head, knowing he didn't understand her, knowing she couldn't calm him until she could see him.

When she could wait no longer, she pushed aside the remaining healers and hesitated only a moment before climbing directly onto the bed, lashing out at those who still tried to restrain him.

"Mine," she growled.

She straddled him gently, careful not to crush, not to bruise. Her hands found his wrists, and she let him fight, but only gently, her restraint loving, careful as her mind curled closer around his.

"Shhhh," she coaxed, as she freed a hand to smooth back his hair. "Orai sol, I'm here. You're safe. It's alright now. It's alright."

 

[Kaisaan]

It was times like these - or would be times like these? Kohe didn't know anymore - that Kohe felt older than her age, though, she had no way of knowing how she should feel at her age. It was a strange knowing, a strange sensation, but one she had felt for a while now, for nearly a year as she started to understand she was different in some way. Tai...Tai was different, too, but not in the same way. Tai was joy and Tai was laughter in its purest form. She seemed to be MADE of light and she brought peace, mirth, LIGHT wherever she went. She was...Kohe didn't know what to call her yet, but she knew there was a word for her sister and it was the most beautiful, powerful word in the world.

But Kohe wasn't like that. She was different, but not like that.

Her difference would scare people.

Oh, it wasn't a bad thing, Kohe didn't think, but whereas Tai was light and warmth, joy and peace, Kohe knew she was something else entirely. She just didn't completely understand what yet. She just knew she was. And right now, she knew that part of her, what she was might help her sister...or it might not. But she had to try.

"Shh, Tai. No more sorry's. You didn't do anything wrong." Her voice was soft, but firm, far beyond her six years and for the first time, but perhaps not the last, mismatched eyes pierced violet with the same kind of intensity Kohe usually reserved for grown-ups. Her small hand smoothed back her sisters damp, wild hair. "I will not leave you. Not ever. I love you and I will always be here. I promise, Tai'risNya. You didn't do anything wrong. I promise."

No force in the universe would make her leave her sister...and Kohe had the oddest feeling that there were some pretty powerful forces out there that she didn't know about yet.

--

He heard her as if from a distance, but Rask heard so many other things too and it was hard to sort through the voices and images. It brought him no comfort and he continued to struggle, growing weaker even as his body started to become warmer, the pain not so intense anymore, but his shivers turning into outright shaking that made his teeth chatter and his muscles spasm. He was slipping into a state of semi-shock, but even so, he knew Lyra's touch.

The gold Aavan's continued to thrash and jerk against her for a moment in reaction alone, but the fight had gone out of him and at her touch the images started to clear, her voice driving away any reality but this one and Rask shuddered in both a sob and relief as he leaned into her touch. His eyes slid closed for a moment as he struggled to calm, some clarity coming back to him, true memory of what had happened and his green eyes opened slowly to meet tangerine.

"L-Lyra."

It was both a question and a confirmation, and the tears slid down his face slower now as his frame continued to tremble and the ache of pain as his body warmed refusing to leave.

But she was here and the gold of his mind was twining with her scarlet, and Rask once more knew where he was.

 

[DotCom]

------
For two days, Rora didn't sleep.

It wasn't, for the most part, for lack of trying, though she spent as much time as she could with Tai and Kohe, cradling their tiny, feverish bodies in her lap for hours at a time. For all the fear and anxiety and guilt she felt, none of it showed through when she was with them. The Healers had created a little resting area for parents and children, all soft pillows and heated blankets where Rora spent every minute she was allowed when the girls weren't being tested and weighed for one thing or another. She would sit calmly among the pillows, Tai or Kohe swaddled in her lap, sweating, whimpering in a way that tore her insides to pieces, and she would sing, soothe nightmares and fever aches like nothing else existed in the world.

It was okay when she was with them.

It was when she had to leave she struggled.

When at last exhaustion began to claim her, she fell victim to microsleeps plagued with nightmares, with visions of Tai's small limp body, no sign of pulse or heartbeat, or the sound of Kohe's hoarse cries as she felt her twin sister die. She spent the rest of her time pacing, trying to think of ways to avoid such a calamity. She considered burning down the forest, drying the river bed, never letting the twins outdoors or out of her sight again. She wondered what would happen if she assigned them bodyguards, she would Push them -- the guards, not the girls -- if she had to, and if they returned to her with so much as a scraped knee, they would pay.

Mori helped soothe the manic fears, but she knew he'd been hurt badly by the prospect of his daughter suffering the same fate he had all those years ago. When it was all said and done, Tai and Mori had lived.

But they would never forget.

--

Tai refused to do anything at all unless she could do it with her sister. They had tried once to separate the girls -- Tai's fever flared sometime on the second day, and they worried her thrashing would hurt Kohe -- and Tai had screamed and screamed until they'd put her back in her sister's bed. She refused to eat unless she saw Kohe eating, she refused to sleep unless she saw Kohe sleeping. Even when Kohe was near, she whimpered quietly when she couldn't physically touch her twin, a heartbreaking thing from a girl built for laughter and smiles.

Her world had been reduced to fever, to nightmarish memories of being submerged, the burning cold in her lungs, the water leeching strength from her limbs -- and Kohe. Always she thought of Kohe.

--

Lyra had dedicated herself to keeping Rask warm, spending virtually every minute laying alongside him, her head against his chest, her hands constantly rubbing gentle, reassuring warmth back into his hands and arms. Even when the Healers told her he was no longer in danger, she refused to leave his side. There was nothing else to do, nothing else to be done. Leaving him would mean panic, fear, guilt, hatred. Staying at his side gave her something to do, some tangible way to be useful. She spoke to him always, small, calm words of love and reassurance, not knowing and not caring whether or not he could understand her. When he needed to be fed, she did it. When he was thirsty, she gave him water. She changed heated blankets, administered mixtures of fruit juices and meats to maintain his strength. She let no one else near him for fear that panic would rise in him again, and when she felt it, she curled close, gently pressing her lips to his neck, knowing she wouldn't -- couldn't -- leave his side until he had recovered.

 

[Kaisaan]

Mori's attention was divided so many ways it was a wonder his head didn't spin off his shoulders. Between both twins, Rora, Lyra and Rask, he was kept constantly on edge, ready to intercept a frantic, overwhelmed Rora, to comfort a child that cried out his name, to mediate between Lyra and healers who only wanted to help his brother-who-wasn't-his-brother - and damn, that was still shocking to think about sometimes! He got little sleep and ate when he thought about it, but his mind was constantly on those he cared about.

He'd become a true leader in more ways than one in the last six years. Not only was it about fighting, leading an army, but now about peace and politics, laws and traditions and everything inbetween. He'd risen to the challenge and in all truth, it was Rora and Mori who now ruled their two entwined empires. Oh, in name they were below the United Council, but those in the Council tended to defer to them more often than not.

Being a ruler was not easy, but Mori found that being a mate, a father, a brother, a friend....those jobs were far harder. So much harder.

The black Aavan strove to be there for every single one of them, but it seemed little was getting better. Rask still slipped into small fevers after hours of lucidity, Tai was anything but stable if her mind-waves and the state of her little body were any indication and Kohe...well, she was no longer feverish and seemed to be recovering the quickest of the three - understandable - physically, but her mind was hard to determine. She was so very quiet, more than usual and today Mori had found some time to come and simply sit with his family, his fingers brushing through black-white hair as Rora doted on little Tai, the two nearly as inseparable as the twins.

Mori knew that Rora loved Kohe no less than Tai, but he also knew if his mate were to ever admit it - and she wouldn't, he knew that too - she would see within herself a softness for Tai that was something a bit extra than what she felt for Kohe. It wasn't wrong or bad, but the truth of the matter was that Rora related to her younger daughter far better than she did her elder. They were very much alike.

But Kohe...wasn't much like Mori even as she wasn't like Rora either. Still, of the two parents, he understood her a bit better than his mate did, and once more, there was nothing wrong with that. It was natural. But it also meant that when Kohe suddenly stirred and her mismatched eyes snapped to his violet, Mori didn't immediately grow alarmed by the intensity in his daughter's gaze even as he saw a sliver of fear in the depth of her eyes.

"Uncle Rask. Get him, Papa. Please."

Mori's eyes moved up to meet Rora, but then followed Kohe's gaze to her twin, noting with a frown that Tai's fever seemed to have worsened once more. The black Aavan didn't waste anymore time at that point, getting up and leaving the room, nearly sprinting to Rask's.

He wasn't surprised - well, actually he was a little - to see the gold Aavan struggling to get out of bed, his green eyes dilated in growing alarm.

--

Something was wrong.

With Tai. Something was wrong with Tai.

Kohe was fine, but her sister was slipping into dangerous heat, not like the other times, worse now and Rask's instincts took over as he struggled to rise, speaking in near panic to Lyra. "Tai! S-something's wrong...she's...she's so warm..." Seeing Mori hurrying into the room then was only confirmation of his thoughts and the gold Aavan nearly snarled his mental words.

"Tai?"

"Kohe said to get you."

The black Aavan's eyes darted to Lyra, knowing she most-likely wouldn't be pleased to have her mate moving around. Rask's fever had broken again, but he was still weak, unstable and Mori gave the Keeper a cautious look, approaching the gold Aavan to help support him even as Rask turned his eyes to his mate. There was clear pleading in his expression as the gold of his mind lurched frantically, feeling the heat of his young charge growing worse.

"Please, Lyra."

 

[DotCom]

She'd known something was wrong that day when Mori took Kohe to feed her, and Tai didn't cry.

She'd pouted a little, made small noises of protest at the back of her throat, but she hadn't screamed and cried like she had been doing in the three days since Rask had pulled her from the frigid water.

Rora had watched, her face a mask of concern and exhaustion, but she hadn't said anything. She could feel the strain in Mori, like a rubber band pulled tight, and she refused to put any more pressure on him by flying into another panic. And little Kohe seemed stable, but she was acting strangely again, distant, quiet in a way even Rora couldn't comprehend. She knew it wouldn't help to scare the girl by acting as though the sky was falling, particularly if it just meant Tai was finally getting some sleep.

Still, she had scooped up Tai once more and settled back just to hold her. She was expecting Tai to fuss when one of the Prodigies handed Rora some chilled fruit juice -- it was all Tai had been able to keep down as of late, though she wouldn't take anything unless she saw Kohe eating -- but she'd just pouted and turned away, burying her face in Rora's neck and crying weakly for Kohe. Rora knew it was happening even though she couldn't hear it. The way Tai and Kohe communicated went beyond what was normal for an Empath like Rora, or what Mori could do with the powers Kaloranis had left him. It seemed to combine the two and then stretch further still. She did not know what was being said, or how, but she almost always knew when, at least from Tai's end. She could feel the long and adoration that went along with Tai every time she reached out for her older sister.

Rora had gone to sit beside the dozing Kohe then, one hand absently stroke black-white hair while Tai curled against her chest, sleeping fitfully. Rora waited patiently for the nightmare she knew was coming, prepared to intercept Tai before she could scream and worry Mori or wake her sister.

Only it hadn't come. Oh, Rora could feel the shaky turmoil there growing in Tai's mind, the fear that slowly grew more and more frantic. But it never reached an apex, never burst like a balloon, spilling into fear and delirium, leaving little Tai breathless and shaking again, leaving Kohe beside herself with pity and a frustration Rora recognized but didn't understand. No, this fear just kept growing, Tai its helpless victim as she squirmed and whimpered in Rora's arms, breaking her mother's heart a hundred different ways.

And when at last Kohe awoke, Rora felt the bolt of fear and clarity burst through her daughter's mind like a lightning bolt, understanding once more this was not quite her little, not Kohe, but a person, a being far beyond what any six-year-old could be. Rore looked from Kohe, to Tai, who had gone limp in her arms with a horrible flush to her pale skin, her breath whistling weakly through chapped lips.

She wanted to ask Kohe how she knew, but somehow, she knew her elder daughter would not be able to give an answer.

Instead, she held Tai closer, swallowing the bubble of panic and fear that rose in her throat, even as Tai's platinum head lolled on her mother's shoulder, and reached over to take Kohe's small hand and press it to her lips.

"Kohe, love, my sweet girl, I..." Rora shook her head, somehow lost for words with her six-year-old. What she wanted to say went so far beyond anything she could comprehend or even communicate. But sitting there, with one daughter fading rapidly in her lap, the other having known it even before Tai, Rora suddenly knew -- nothing would be easy for her oldest daughter. And there was so very little she could do to protect Kohe from it.

"I'm sorry, little one. So very sorry."

--

Lyra watched Mori with venom in her eyes, able to keep from lashing out at him, only because she was loathe to leave Rask's side. She could feel weakness and exhaustion coursing through him, and she knew what helping Tai would cost him, even without knowing precisely what he would do. It always cost him, helping the twins, saving the twins, and while she could no longer picture her life without waking to a gleeful, giggling Tai, a quiet, thoughtful Kohe, she had already seen -- or near enough -- what her life would be without Rask, and even the thought scared her to her core.

Still.

She could feel what letting Tai suffer was costing him now, and knew that to disallow him to go to her, even without attacking Mori, would be far worse for him.

She said nothing to Mori. She understood and respected his choice to come for Rask. No one knew Tai like Kohe did, and the strange child with the mismatched eyes had a talent for knowing the unknowable. If she sent for Rask to bring her sister from danger, then it had to be done, and Lyra would not be the one to stop it. Mori was a father whose daughter had nearly died just three days prior, who now perhaps faced death again with his solution now literally staring him in the face.

She understood. She'd have done the same a thousand times over to save Rask.

But Lyra only barely held her rage and worry in check, and she was not certain she could continue if she was made to say something -- anything -- to Mori.

Instead, she turned to Rask and nodded once, before looping an arm of support and comfort around his waist.

"I'm coming with you," she said stubbornly. "Please try not to do anything stupid, pertinax."

 

[Kaisaan]

Kohe perhaps understood better than even Rora did what her mother wanted to say.

She wanted to protect Kohe, to make everything better, to shelter her from everything bad and hurtful, and even from the things Rora herself did not understand but felt threatened her daughter. She wanted life to be easy and carefree, happy and peaceful for Kohe, for Tai. She felt like she was failing them with each tear that escaped their eyes, each unhappy expression, each scraped knee or bruised arm. She wanted desperately to be everything they needed and hated that she couldn't be.

Above all else, though, she wanted them to not be afraid, to always know they were loved.

Her mother would say it all and more, do it all and more if only she knew how, could. But Kohe knew better than her mother. Rora could not protect her from everything, could not keep the fear at bay, could not be everything she needed...and that was all right. She wasn't meant to be that way. She was flawed and had other responsibilities. That was how it was supposed to be and Kohe understood that natural order with a depth other children her age did not.

So it was now that she rose to her knees, weak and shaky, but far better than her sister and she kissed her mother's forehead, small hands touching her cheeks softly as she pulled back. "I know, Mama. It will be all right."

Her scarlet and sapphire eyes turned to her sibling then and after that, Kohe had attention and eyes for no one else as she drew closer to her twin, her own breathing hitching momentarily as she touched her sister, felt the heat coming off of her. The sob was reigned in, however, in favor of resting her forehead to Tai, her lip trembling, but refusing to cry as she closed her eyes.

You could die, Tai. I know that. You know it, but you could live, too. I've seen it, little sister. Please live. We have so much to do! So much to see! Please live. It was said calmly, much calmer than the six year old's heart felt.

--

Rask knew what this was doing to his mate and he felt guilt sear through him strongly before the worry for the twins, before his very power, now straining at the confines of his mind, pushed the other emotion away. It raged at him to FOCUS and the gold Aavan did, but only after he placed a kiss to Lyra's lips, light and quick, but full of emotion he could not say in words right now.

"I will." he promised her softly before they all started to move.

It wasn't long before they came into the room the twins were in and immediately upon entering the room, Rask felt something slam into his mind, a malevolent presence that made him gasp and stumble, Mori catching him before he fell. The black Aavan looked from him to Tai and back again with worry verging on panic, but Rask's eyes were for none but Tai in her mother's arms.

Stars above, no.

He knew that presence, knew the feeling it elicited, knew the damage it could wreak and as his eyes abruptly snapped to Kohe's mismatched, but incredibly piercing gaze....he knew she somehow knew it, too. An unspoken kind of communication passed between them, the first of its kind but certainly not the last and the gold Aavan moved forward, slipping Lyra and Mori's hands both. His body didn't feel important anymore and it wasn't long at all before he was in front of the three females, but it wasn't to Rora that he looked, not even seeming to know she was there, but her youngest child.

Where the evil no other Aavan would be able to detect radiated.

His hand reached out, settling on her small chest and glowing gold eyes looked to Kohe then as she watched him closely. "You are sure?"

The child merely nodded, pale and tight-lipped, but her gaze not wavering and Rask turned back to Tai, inhaling sharply as he drew his power forward and then let it go, funneling it through his hand and into the small, deathly sick child under his fingers. There was silence for a long moment, as if the world held its breath, but everyone knew when Rask found what he was looking for.

Because it was Kohe who started screaming.

 

[DotCom]

Rora loved Mori, loved her daughters too much to truly hate Rask. She was an Empath, prone to wild, dangerous bouts of emotion, and she knew she could be irrational, especially when it came to her family. But her Empathy also meant to hate anything ate away at her, particularly when that person was her almost-brother, was the inexplicable, miraculous guardian of her children in far more ways than she could count. She owed him her life and theirs. She knew it, and so she couldn't hate him.

But in that moment, she came close.

She had been staring, uncomprehending, at Kohe when he entered, unable to speak, understanding she didn't need to, profoundly proud and profoundly afraid for this child who knew far, far more than anyone ever should. She had known from their conception the twins would be special, different, and they were. That life would not be easy for them had always been a given. And while she felt a strange attachment to Tai, it was Kohe she worried more for. Until the near drowning, Tai had always been able to take anything and everything in stride. She was, as her sister claimed, light, love, joy incarnate. Kohe was something else, something different, not greater, perhaps, but more, and Rora did not understand it.

She had been trying fruitlessly to sift through it when Rask had burst in, and she could feel exhaustion and fear rolling off him in waves. Mori and Lyra came behind him, the latter exuding a loathing of her own, though Rask's kiss had soothed and elated her, however temporarily.

When she turned back to Kohe, her words, whatever they might have been, had died on her lips. The elder twin had turned her attention once more to a Tai who now barely moved, barely breathed.

But she heard her sister.

--

Tai didn't know where she was. It was dark, and treacherously cold. And she hated it.

Tai had never hated anything before. She almost did not recognize the sensation. It was equal parts fear, anger, desperation, and hopelessness. But this place was unfamiliar, cramped, cold, and dark. And she couldn't feel Kohe anywhere. Always, always, even when she'd been lost under the water at the far edge of death, she had known where Kohe was.

Kohe was not here. There was nothing here. No warmth, no voices, and no light for her to build in.

She trembled and reached out, but her hand met a wall, so cold, it burned. She reared back and found another wall. Her breath came faster in her ears. She whimpered.

Kohe? Kohe, where are you? Where am I? What's happening?

There was nothing for a long time, not even the echo of her own voice. The darkness closed around her, a harsh, voiceless whisper, seeming to swallow up every part of her.

She felt herself succumb, to the dark, to the cold, to the nothing, and then --

Tai...

A voice. Just an echo, but a familiar voice. Tai froze.

Kohe?

...to do...to see...live...please...please...please...

Kohe? Tai grinned, began to hope. The darkness pulled away. Kohe, where -- ?

And then Kohe was screaming.

--

Now, Rora might have sworn she hated Rask.

She had let him come close to her daughter, feel sick, weak with the idea -- the knowledge -- that Tai was dying, again, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She felt something pass between Rask and Kohe. She didn't understand it, but she resented it. She could feel exhaustion and fear running through both of them on precisely the same channels, and she knew then that Rask would understand Kohe far better than she ever could. She knew then something had broken between them. She didn't blame Rask for it, but neither could she repair it.

Still, she said nothing, knowing once again, her daughters' only chance at survival lay with their uncle. Not their mother, not their father. Not even each other, not totally. But their uncle.

He reached out to touch Tai. Something else went between Kohe and Rask.

Tai went stiff in her arms, and Kohe started screaming.

Rora felt the fear and pain hit her like a cement wall, but over that, there was anger, rage, a killing fury, and had not Tai been in her arms, had not Kohe been between them --

Lyra saw Rora tense, and tensed herself, waiting, though now all eyes were on Kohe.

Rora broke free from her rage -- partially -- as the instincts of motherhood kicked in, and her free arm went out to Kohe.

"Kohe? Kohe! My little one, my somni, please -- what is it? What's happening?" Rora's hand brushed over hair, cheek, shoulder, like a bird flitting nervously from flower to flower, and finding nothing.

"Tell me how I can fix it, little one. Kohe!"

 

[Kaisaan]

Kohe stopped screaming.

It was abrupt and her little fists were curled so tightly her knuckles were white with the pressure, and her small body shook like a leaf, teeth grit. But she stopped screaming and it wasn't true pain that radiated from the six year old, but something deeper, some kind of pulsating pressure she could not form into a coherent thought to explain. It was a knowing and a feeling and a tugging and a pushing. It was unlike anything she'd ever felt before and it overwhelmed her mind so that her thoughts scattered and everything was focused on it.

It and Rask and her sister.

The child shook her head to her mother's question, distantly hearing it, her eyes shut tight. Her mama couldn't help. She knew that instinctively. Not with this. No one could help her with this. Not Papa, not Mama, not Aunt Lyra or Uncle Rask. Not even Tai. This was something that was hers and only hers.

Only she could feel it, fight it or accept it.

--

The darkness was cloying and thick like sludge, and familiar. So very, very familiar that Rask shuddered in revulsion and hate, in anger and pain, in memory. And it was that last part that drew the attention of the evil that now lurked inside the small body of Tai. It seemed to detach from a part of her mind as a leech might flesh and drew toward him and it wasn't long before black and gold clashed, two consciousnesses against the other, one uncaring about the damage it did to a child's fragile mind and the other spreading out rapidly to defuse any injury that might occur.

The Ashkerai seemed to hiss in laughter as it finally understood what he was, who he was, WHEN he was.

You can not save them.

Rask snarled, but he knew this creature, knew its ways, knew what it was capable of and knew that if he were to try and pry it away from Tai...it would devour her in minutes and it would be sure to kill her before it went to its own death. No, there was only one way to get this leech, this parasite to detach and Rask knew...Lyra was going to kill him if he lived through this.

I know.

His response made the Ashkerai paused, now interested and Rask braced himself, anger and fear both raging within him, something the darkness seemed to savor as it drew closer still, never giving up Tai's mind from its clutches, but highly intrigued by the emotions of the gold Aavan. Rask continued. I know I can't save them, not in the end. But she doesn't have to die this way. Let it be quick when it comes. Let her go with her twin. Take me instead.

The darkness coiled, intense, gathering in gleeful delight. You?

If I am in your control, I can't help them and I suffer knowing I failed them.

Suspicion came. Why would you accept that?

You wouldn't understand. You can't care for them like I do. Just promise me their end will be swift and you can have me.

A chilling chuckle came then and the darkness surged forward, abandoning Tai completely, it's voice mocking as it moved into Rask's head, tearing and drawing mental blood as it did. Stupid Aavan. I don't need your permission! Know your precious twins will die screaming in agony.

--

Kohe felt the change immediately. The two presences, so alike in one way and so different in all the others suddenly departed from her sister and became one...even as they were not one at all. Her eyes snapped open then, darting to her Uncle's and she showed no surprise, no alarm when it was black eyes that opened to meet her scarlet and sapphire. She felt no panic when she sensed Rask's wave of fear at being trapped in his own mind, surrounded by the cold darkness once more and her eyes flickered to Lyra, somehow halting the Keeper with that look alone before her eyes moved back to the gold Aavan.

To the Ashkerai who smiled slowly, smugly, cruelly at her.

"You? You're going to stop me?" The voice that came out of Rask's mouth was horribly disfigured, rasping and harsh, choked sounding, forced from a throat, vocal cords that weren't meant to work anymore and the creature laughed in a crackling, barking, terrible way. "He has some pathetic faith in both of you. It will be the death of you all." the Ashkerai sneered and Kohe....Kohe merely stood in a slow, calm, graceful way and tilted her head, no longer tense, no longer trembling.

No longer a simple six year old, though, it seemed nothing about her had changed physically.

"No faith is pathetic, Nuvgat."

Black eyes widened in what could have been alarm at hearing its own name and Kohe's expression didn't change, but her hand lifted, palm forward and it seemed that something echoed in her voice, something distant and present, something ancient and filled with an unmistakable power that was somehow restrained.

"You don't belong here."

Rask's face snarled, but his body had started to shake and black eyes darted around almost frantically, scared. "Neither does he!" the Ashkerai spat and at that, little Kohe smiled and shrugged a bit, something of the six year old child coming back to her face for a moment. "No, but I welcome him. Not you."

And with that, she closed her fist as if grabbing something and darkness poured from Rask's mouth in a thick fog that seemed to shriek, whirling above his head as it departed his body...and then it was sucked into itself, disappearing completely. Rask collapsed then, coughing up blood from his torn throat, his mind raw and hurting, his body trembling, but his green eyes rose to meet mismatched ones and Kohe smiled for a moment...before her eyes rolled back into her head and she fell.

 

[DotCom]

It was impossibly quiet when it was all over.

Rora felt as though she had sat at the center of a storm, aware only that it was far, far beyond her understanding or her grasp. Her hatred of Rask faded in her moment, as did her fear, her anguish, her guilt and frustration at her inability to care for her own children. She had never understood or cared to understand what it was that so held Rask to her children. It kept them alive, and so she saw no need to question it. But now the mystery had sucked in Tai and Kohe, and to see her elder daughter become -- again -- something that was so clearly not Kohe...it was unsettling.

Rora watched in blank horror as Kohe confronted the thing Rask had become, whatever he had pulled from her daughter -- she felt another rush of gratitude, however short-lived it was. The noises Rask made her awful. She could feel pain and revulsion flowing from Lyra like water from a burst pipe, the Keeper's face expressionless, but very, very pale. Tai had gone so still, Rora feared she was no longer breathing. She was too afraid to check. The flush in her cheeks burned red against her pale hair, and she trembled.

Rora only heard, only saw Kohe...or whatever had taken her daughter's place. She recognized the body, and the voice...but her eyes were something different entirely, and Rora was afraid. Would she lose them both today?

Kohe said something strange and cryptic, as she was always doing, but this time she completed it by pulling Rask's darkness, Tai's darkness from his body. And when it was over, Rask was on the ground, retching up blood. Kohe was pale, frighteningly still beside her sister.

But Tai was breathing.

There was no noise save Rora's own heartbeat and Rask's labored breathing for a long moment.

And then Lyra moved and broke the spell.

--

She was the first to move, or so she thought. There had been nearly perfect silence in the room, but that may have been because everyone else -- Rora, Mori, the twins -- had disappeared. She did not see Rora shut her eyes and shudder once, before slipping into a mask of calm as she gently maneuvered Kohe's limp body into her arms. She didn't not see Tai stir, whimper, curl protectively around her older sister. She did not see tiny fingers find each other as Rora wept quietly over her twins, equal parts horrified and relieved. Lyra only knew Rask, and Rask was on the floor, pain ebbing through his mind and body.

Lyra dropped down on her knees next to him, and the moment she did, she left the rage at the black thing behind -- had Kohe not banished it, she didn't know what she would have done -- easing herself into the kind gentleness she knew Rask needed.

Or trying.

She pressed one hand, somehow, somehow not shaking, to his forehead and waited, saying nothing, scarlet strands curling in protective warmth around the broken, bleeding gold. He had taught her what it cost him to hate herself. She had learned to be kinder. This, she knew, was not her fault. But something had caused it, and that anger was close, was keen.

She had heard him speak for the first time in six years, and it had not even been his voice. The thought threatened to consume her. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine what it would be like to track whatever had taken him, turned him into a puppet, made him something smaller, something less than he was --

But she didn't let the anger touch him. She wrapped it about herself like a shawl, like a shield, saving it for when it would be useful -- and it would be useful. She vowed this silently to herself, tucking away that hatred for another time. And when Rask could breathe a little easier, she crouched in front of him, one hand on either side of his face. And she smiled.

"Rask? Rask, look at me. Breathe. Come back. Come back to me." Her breath threatened to hitch. She fought it back viciously.

"Please."

 

[Kaisaan]

The gold Aavan continued to cough, more blood spraying the ground, but he knew he wasn't in danger of bleeding out, no danger of dying. It just hurt like hell! Slowly, though, the coughing grew a bit less and the blood a bit slower and he found that he could breathe a little easier, though, that hadn't really been the problem and green eyes rose to meet tangerine. Rask smiled just a little, bloodied lips and chin ignored as his mind leaned into the scarlet despite the way it made pain flare briefly before his mate's mind was soothing the agony away.

"I'm here, Lyra. I'm not leaving, my Crimson. I promised, remember?" The words were brave, but the lingering fear, the lingering cold in his limbs and his mind spoke of a shakier mindset, but Rask wasn't lying; he was here and he wasn't leaving. She didn't need to draw him back and the gold gave proof to that, the healing strands coiling gently around the scarlet, but securely, radiating love and reassurance.

He would be all right.

And so would the twins. He'd done what he'd had to do and it had worked.

The gold Aavan coughed again, more blood coming up and Mori, from where he'd rushed to be beside Rora, looked over with some concern, some awareness that wasn't centered on his daughters. It wouldn't last long, but for now, his care for his not-brother made itself known. "Go to the healers, Rask. You've done enough here. Thank you."

The black Aavan didn't even watch the gold Aavan or the Keeper long enough to see if they complied or to see Rask nod. His focus was already solely on his twins and Rask didn't begrudge the father or mother that, his own weary gaze moving back to his mate. His fingers moved up to brush her cheek and the desire to kiss her swept over him, but with the blood and his own coughing, he knew it wasn't a good idea.

Later.

She would need the soothing and Rask hated that, hated that he worried her so much, that it couldn't be helped. His Keeper was so brave, though, and he admired her for it, adored her for it and Rask, for a brief moment, brought his forehead to Lyra's own when he felt he might not cough on her, gold and rust-colored hair mixing much as their minds did.

"I love you."

She needed to hear it. He needed to say it, far more than he needed a healer.

 

[DotCom]

She nodded, allowed herself a single, shaky breath, a moment of warm reassurance, pure bliss, before she was looping an arm gently around his waist, easing him to his feet, wincing at the pain he felt in his throat and mind.

"Lean on me," she said shortly. "Don't argue. We'll get you to bed, and I'll get the healers. Just...try and relax."

She could feel his fear and concern for her, and she bristled. Her stubborn pertinax was forever worried about all the wrong things. "I'm fine, Rask. C'mon. Can you walk? Just down the hall, I'll do the rest." If Rora and Mori and the twins were still behind, all fretting over each other, she didn't know it. She could feel Rask recovering slowly, knew he would be okay. She could still feel his fingertips on her cheek, could still feel the flush that had bloomed there like the touch of a flame to a patch of dry grass. She hated that she could be so angry, so terrified for him, and still feel like a child when he touched her.

"I told you not to do anything stupid. I -- are the twins okay? Will they be? Don't -- don't answer, don't worry about it, I'll check in on them later, for now, just rest."

She got him into bed, settled him there, and then left again, her mind wrapped around his the whole time as she fetched a jug of water she didn't even know if he would be able to handle. She was barking order the moment the Healers entered the room, keeping out of their way while still looming over their shoulders, knowing the pressure she put on them and not caring in the slightest. She stayed close to Rask where he could see her, and she him, and it wasn't until she managed to meet his eyes again that her expression softened.

"I know," she allowed at last, leaning forward to press her lips to his temple. "I know. I love you, too."

 

[Kaisaan]

Rask could walk and he did so without a great deal of issue. He ached all over, trembled with residual cold and he felt weak, but if he'd had to, he could have made it to his room and the bed on his own. As it was, he let Lyra do as she wished, knowing she needed to feel useful, needed to DO SOMETHING lest she explode. So he let her get him into the bed and once there, Rask let his body simply collapse like it wanted to, his throat feeling like serrated knives were sawing back and forth slowly.

She'd told him not to say anything, but the gold Aavan couldn't help it. "I'm sorry. I couldn't...I had to." he offered helplessly. "They're safe now. They're....physically, they are fine. I...I hope they'll be all right." He desperately hoped they would be, but only time would tell.

Rask coughed up more blood, swallowing more besides that and felt nauseous because of it, his thoughts turning from the twins and to his mate and his own situation instead. The water made him nearly choke, but by that point, the healers were arriving and Rask was lucid, completely so, and did not react negatively to them, cooperating with what they wanted of him. He kept his mind securely entwined with Lyra's, though, accepting her comfort, basking in her care, but subtly influencing her own stress level, keeping her calm as she barked orders. He knew how possessive and even violent she could get if she thought it would protect him, and right now, there was as much pain radiating from the gold Aavan as there was help from the healers. He had to help keep her calm, keep her stable and the gold of his mind wrapped love and warmth around Lyra, telling her he would be all right.

It was hard to focus, though, hard to know if what he was doing was making any kind of difference and it wasn't until their eyes met, green to tangerine, that Rask knew they were going to be all right and he offered his mate a shaky smile at her kiss, relief surging along the gold threads that caressed and kept close to the scarlet.

And then Rask closed his eyes and hid the discomfort there as the healers started to work in earnest on the inner tearing of his throat. It would be a process to endure for a while, but in the end, he'd be all right. With Lyra near him and knowing he'd protected the twins, he'd be fine.

-----------------------------------

Her head hurt.

It was the first thing that Kohe was aware of and she dared not open her eyes too quickly, but discovered she didn't need to quite yet. She knew almost instantly that she was in the same bed as Tai and that her sister's fever had broken. She knew that it had been two days since both of them had woken and she knew that their mother and father had been nearly forced to go eat something by Aunt Yenna and Uncle Tac. Aunt Asesee was sleeping lightly near them, keeping watch and the monitors over the room would alert anyone if she or Tai were in distress.

Kohe knew all this and more besides without even opening her eyes, but knowing all if it made her head hurt more and so she stopped, finally opening her eyes slowly to find that she faced her twin and her knees brushed Tai's own, her hand over her younger sister's protectively.

Scarlet and sapphire eyes studied their other half and Kohe reached up slowly and brushed her sister's white-purple hair from her face, smiling softly at the dark violet strand of unruly hair that never quite let itself be tamed or held down. Much like Tai herself. She'd be that way again, Kohe knew, but she also understood that there was a taint to the joy that was her sister and it would take time to heal - and it wouldn't be doing that for many, many years. Oh, Tai would hide it, learn to live with it and even forget about it sometimes, but it would come back, taunt her, hurt her.

And Kohe knew she couldn't fix it. No, only he could, but he wasn't here yet.

For now, she would have to protect Tai herself even if she could not make everything better.

 

[DotCom]

Tai woke feeling like she'd been somewhere very, very far from home.

It was a strange feeling, since she didn't really even know what something like that was supposed to feel like. She and Tai and Mama and Papa had moved around between the Aavan and the Cerebrae for as long as she could remember. And even when Mama and Papa weren't around, Aunt Lyra and Uncle Rask usually were. And Kohe...Kohe was always everywhere.

It struck Tai then that wherever she'd been...Kohe wasn't. She'd been close, screaming and fighting, and trying to get through to Tai. But Tai hadn't been able to feel her, reach her like she normally could.

And yet...strange and cold and awful as that feeling was, there'd been something else, too. Most of it had been dark and scary. Most of it, she'd been wondering where Kohe was, and how she could get back to her twin.

But part of it -- one tiny, distant part of it -- had been familiar, too.

Tai wanted to know where she'd gone that could be so scary and so familiar at the same time. She knew she never wanted go back again. She knew that with a certainty that threatened to make her sick.

But she also knew, for better or worse, curiosity -- kindness? -- would get the best of her.

Today, though, she had Kohe back. She didn't know what had happened or how Kohe had done whatever it was that she'd done. It didn't matter. Kohe had fought to get Tai back, and she wasn't about to throw it away.

Tai had Kohe, and if it was all she ever had again, she was happy.

--

A faint smile touched the lips of the younger twin at the feel of her sister's hand on her brow, but it was only the physical sign of an internal reaction that was much bigger, much brighter. Something dark had happened while she slept, Tai could feel that. Something that had nearly taken Kohe from her forever.

And Kohe had fought it.

Tai's grin widened, and she giggled. Then without opening her eyes, her brow furrowed in concentration. The hand under Kohe's small fingers turned and opened, and when Kohe moved her hand, a small, golden butterfly alit on the empty space between them.

It was only then Tai opened her eyes, chewing her lips in anxious apprehension while she awaited her sister's response.

"Do you like it? I made it for you. I can make more -- as many as you want. I...I'm sorry I scared you, Kohe." A pause as she found the words to explain something she didn't understand. "And...thank you for bringing me back."

 

[Kaisaan]

Kohe knew when her sister was awake, but she let Tai address the waking world as she willed, smiling a little in amusement to see her twin's brows scrunch up. Oh, she knew that look! It meant Tai was about to show her something magical and bright with the power she possessed, a power their parents and guardians didn't seem to be fully aware of yet, not to the extent that Kohe was. They focused more on Tai's Empathetic abilities and that was good and well, but the elder twin saw something in her other powers they did not, something special and unique, something beyond the scope of what the grown-ups saw.

But Kohe saw a lot they didn't seem to see. Uncle Rask came close, but even he didn't completely understand.

So now mismatched eyes watched eagerly for the tiny miracle that would unfold and wasn't disappointed by the magical butterfly of sparkling light. The elder twin giggled then, unrestrained and happy, even as her sister started to speak and Kohe listened patiently, letting Tai vent her blurted apology before trying to say anything at all.

The last sentence made Kohe smile softly and she brushed Tai's hair back again, small fingers carding gently through the wild mane of white and purple, reassuring her younger twin as if Tai had been having a nightmare or had been mildly hurt. It was a protective, comforting gesture of an older sister and she scooted closer, very much a child herself in that moment as she kissed Tai's forehead and then rested her own against the other's.

"You're welcome, though, Uncle Rask helped, too."

Kohe smiled a bit more and looked at the butterfly between them, touching it softly, feeling the light tingle of substance that the light creature possessed, but knowing such a thing was fragile and taking care not to harm the light structure. "You didn't mean to scare me, Tai. It wasn't your fault. I know that. I'm not mad, my sister, I promise. I'm just so happy you're all right."

Her arms wrapped around Tai then, drawing her close into a hug, needing the contact just as much as her sister did. Right now, she wasn't full of power and ancient knowledge, she was a six year old child, grateful beyond belief that she could still hold her sibling close and feel her sister breathe against her.

"I love you, Tai."

 

[DotCom]

Tai didn't know the future like Kohe seemed to sometimes. She had long since accepted her sister's strange and impossible knowledge as fact, something she could never achieve, but didn't really have to, because Kohe knew, and what Kohe knew, Tai knew, too, to a point. Her Empathy with Kohe went beyond what it was with others, and while she did not share her sister's dreams or knowings, she knew when her sister felt afraid, alone, happy, sad, angry, tired, loved. And to her, it was all that mattered.

She knew now Kohe was delighted -- truly delighted, not just pretending for Tai's sake -- with the butterfly, and it made her happy. She knew she had forgiven Tai, had never even blamed her for everything that had happened. She knew even Kohe didn't completely understand what she'd done for Tai, or how. She knew Kohe would do it again and again and again, even if it killed her, if it meant she could save her sister. She wondered if Kohe knew Tai would do the same.

Tai knew Kohe like nothing and no one else, and she loved her sister more than she could say. She knew Kohe was different, even moreso than Tai herself, that her sister seemed to be part of a larger thing while at the same time holding something very large inside herself. It didn't matter to Tai. She loved every part of her sister, what she knew, what she saw, what she understood -- and what she didn't.

But these were the times she loved Kohe best. When her older sister was just that -- a child just a few minutes older than Kohe herself. Quieter, gentler, more reserved than Tai could ever be, but her twin nonetheless. It was in these quiet moments Tai felt the most amazement and love for Kohe and herself pouring from the adults in their lives, Mama and Papa and Uncle Rask and Aunt Lyra and everyone else. These simple, unaffected moments when the twins were not miracles or mysteries or symbols. Just girls. Just twins.

Tai loved Kohe all the time. But she loved her especially much now.

She returned her twin's hug, nuzzling close on instinct, grinning as the butterfly seemed to take on a life of its own, fragmenting into two then four then eight golden butterflies circling around their heads, so cleanly and perfectly reflecting Tai's bliss at the moment.

"I love you, too, sissy. I won't ever let anything take us apart."

 

[Kaisaan]

----

Rask wasn't sure if he was so restless because Lyra refused to relax or if it was because he was dying to be out of the Healer's den. It could have been a combination of both things, but whatever the case, the gold Aavan woke knowing he needed to get outside, to at least be back in his own home. Something. He didn't want to be here any longer and if that meant he had to fight the Healers and Whisperers on it, he would. Rask knew that his resolution about the decision would most-likely have Lyra on his side for that reason alone.

And if she wasn't, he was prepared to argue against her, too.

He was still prone to cold flashes, to chills if a draft of winter air came through the den at any point, but Rask wanted to have a breath of fresh air anyway. And then he'd go inside again. Just a few minutes seeing the sun and the sky. He wasn't a creature meant for closed rooms and hard roofs. In fact, it had started to give him nightmares. He always woke - or Lyra woke him - when they got bad, but being in this place, confined and constantly monitored was stirring memories he'd rather not have.

It was too much like being back with those who'd 'trained' him.

The only difference was Lyra. His fierce, protective, loving, sweet (to him), warm, brilliant Keeper. It was her presence that kept him from completely teetering over that edge between current life and past life in his worst moments. But even she couldn't keep the inevitable breakdown if he stayed here. Oh, she'd be able to bring him back, to comfort him and stabilize him again, but Rask would rather they avoid that all together. The solution was simple.

He was going to leave and go home. Home where the roof was glass, revealing the sky, where sunlight streamed in and everything was familiar, theirs, his and Lyra's. Where he didn't feel trapped.

Rask knew his mate wouldn't deny him that, and so when they finally stepped outside - and he didn't need support in the least, his throat sore, but his body fine if a bit weaker immune-wise - he didn't comment as she fussed in her very Lyra-like manner, taking it without comment. The gold of his mind vibrated in amusement, though, and it seemed to caress the scarlet in a kiss far more intimate than lip-locking as it reassured her that he understand and would comply with her wishes.

He had not wish to anger or stress her further than he already had and no desire to get sick again.

Rak just....needed a minute and the gold Aavan drew in the air around him deeply as he stood on the balcony right outside the Healer's den, knowing they'd have to start walking home - about a quarter of a mile away - soon, but simply enjoying this for a moment and his hand finding Lyra's interlocking their fingers simply.