Dichotomy

[DotCom]

Lyra lost track of the time it took her to calm down again, to slowly let rationality trickle in as sheer emotion began, if not to taper off, than to take a backseat to Lyra's natural demeanor. There was still so much of the latter -- emotion in every form, shock and excitement, fear and hope, wonder and love -- but after several long, weepy moments in his arms, her head cleared enough to where she could remember herself.

She was having a baby. Goddess, she was having a baby. Just as she'd started not only to lose hope, but to backslide, to fall back into the guilt that had been her life and home for almost thirty years. And she had punished Rask for it, too, pulling away for fear she would hurt him, for fear that she would see in him the same disappointment and disgust she held for herself. Things had seemed so dark, even just a few short hours ago, when she was exhausted, half crazed with grief, and yet she could not imagine sleeping, knowing those nightmares would crop up again. She could recall all too easily what it had been like to feel Rask so near death. It had been the worst fear, the worst pain she had ever know, come back to claim her again.

And in an instant, it had all been blown away by a single sentence from her enigmatic niece.

She was pregnant. Finally, finally they were having a baby.

Lyra knew there would be nothing simple about it. Already, she could feel fear catching at the back of her throat. Rora's pregnancy had, at the end, nearly killed her, and she had been the Maiden. What would it do to a Pusher? Was she meant to have children? Was she able to have children? What would it do to Rask, if the pregnancy killed her? And what would she do if it didn't? She had wanted to be a mother for years now, but that had never made her right for it. She had never even considered it until that awful night Kohe had come back from her first jump. She had grown up a soldier, and Rask even moreso than her. Were they right to want to bring a life into a world that had been so cruel to them as children?

It was not even supposed to be possible, she knew, and while Cerebrae-Aavan relations were becoming more common by the day, there had been no other births, as far as she knew. Siya would want to know, would want to study her, and Lyra would begin to resent her for it, just as she needed her help to ensure the baby was safe. And she would keep the baby safe. If it killed her, she would see the child through at least to birth.

In that moment, she was finally able to pull away from Rask, eyes puffy, face flushed, and smile at him. There was fear plain in her eyes, but greater than that, there was hope and determination. If ever there had been a Cerebra to fight the odds, to even tell those odds off with a curse and a smile, it was Lyra. She would meet this challenge as she had every one. She would be angrier. She would be tougher. She would have her new family, and she would keep them safe if it killed her.

Sniffing, she leaned forward and kissed Rask long and hard. She could feel the edges of fear and doubt in the back of his mind, hidden behind joy and love, but there nonetheless. She knew they were there. She saw them and understood them, and then gently banished them with a light touch of her mind, saying everything she couldn't put into words. How sorry she was for having withdrawn, all her reasonings and explanations, her hopes that they could move past her weakness and grief into a place of beauty and light, at the center of which lay their miracle.

She kissed him until she felt dizzy from the lack of air. She pulled back and laughed and kissed him again.

"We can do this," she said directly into his mind, erasing everything from the last to weeks with a touch. "Orai los, we are having a child. We can do this. I know we can."

 

[Kaisaan]

---------

Rask woke most mornings still unable to fully believe that Lyra was pregnant.

It was usually the first thing on his mind and the last thing he thought about before sleeping. It both thrilled and terrified him in turns, curiosity and nervousness both building in his system. Even after a month, he could not accurately describe what he felt about this, only that it was akin to the feeling he'd had knowing that Lyra loved him, that she was his mate, that she was to be his forever. It was akin to that feeling the first time they'd mated; that wide-eyed wonder and bliss mixed with the disbelief that something could be so right, so good. It was a jumble of contradictory emotions and he was often glad he wasn't the only one who felt them.

Lyra was full of them.

And after a month, those emotions only got stronger in both of them, because after a month, Lyra started to show. It was just a small swell of her stomach, but it was there and Rask's hand would often be over it in the morning, a haze of gold around his mate's middle, protecting even as he slept. He'd not told her about that, not yet and she'd yet to see it, but it was there. Just as he'd done for the twins in the last weeks of Rora's pregnancy, now he did at the beginning of his own child's life.

The thought of something happening to the baby was all it took for that gold to appear without thought, his life-force quick to leap away from him, into the womb of the small life growing and Rask didn't know how to stop it, for the first time unable to control that reaction, that power.

He found he didn't care. He'd rather bleed himself dry than see harm come to his child, to his mate.

And such was what the gold Aavan felt now as he watched the gold light dance over his hand, pulsing gently in and out of Lyra's stomach as his fingers traced gentle patterns over her belly, likely to wake her at some point, but the gold Aavan was hardly aware of that, lost in his own thoughts this morning.

--

A whimper broke through the silence of the room, an uncommon sound from the bed of the sixteen year old Kohe. It had been a great many years since she'd made any true noises of distress over a nightmare. Tai always knew when they were bad anyway, but they had to be high on the scale to elicit a verbal reaction from the black-white haired Demisan.

Kohe's reaction didn't stop there, though, as she started to jerk and then to thrash. Her tail, usually so controlled and graceful now, swept out and shattered a vase, sending wild-flowers and water spraying as her clawed hands dug into the blankets and mattress, leaving tears. Sweat beaded her forehead and her eyes flickered under her lids, but she wouldn't wake.

It had been a long time since she'd had a time dream this bad, the last one being at fourteen and that had sent Kohe into silence for nearly three days, not even Tai able to get her to speak, and she never explain what the dream had been about. To this day she would not explain it.

 

[DotCom]

A faint, sleepy smile crossed her face before she'd even fully woken, and Lyra nearly purred in Rask's mind as her own began to stir.

It felt as thought she'd spent the entire last month in that hazy area, half asleep, and almost certainly dreaming, though she desperately hoped not. It was a place where everything was both more potent and more removed, where things seem to occur to her only slowly, like she was floating through life, and yet it was not entirely uncommon -- though still, perhaps, strange -- to see her fighting off bouts of sudden, hysterical giddiness.

The rest, though, was potent, too. Siya and the Prodigies, along with an ecstatic team of purple Aavan, were still trying to figure out what it was that had allowed Lyra to become pregnant at all. Suddenly, Rora's case was all but dismissed as 'average', as she'd also had the powers and abilities of the other Power Classes. Lyra, however, was a Pusher, tried and true, and the story of her pregnancy had spread through the cities and villages like wildfire.

Lyra was less than privy to this, however, as whatever changes her body was undergoing to maintain the pregnancy had proven alarming at worst, and downright agonizing, at best. She woke most every morning with a splitting headache that was not quite debilitating, but left her cranky and disoriented. The morning illness that had taken Rora proved just as severe with Lyra, to the point where the Keeper was now ingesting nearly twice as much food as the average Cerebra, to keep from losing weight, as she had started doing three weeks ago. Fevers were low-grade and easily maintained, though they sapped her strength, leaving her unable to attend regular training sessions with Rask, or anyone, much to her chagrin. And while Rask had been nothing but calm and patient with her, she found her temper with others -- particularly the Prodigies she saw almost every day now -- somewhat strained.

And yet Lyra knew if she could change her hand, she'd not have done it for the world. Rask was as happy as he'd ever been, and she secretly loved the extra time she was able to spend with him. She loved feeling his hand on her belly, loved waking to him tracing gentle patterns over her skin. The love in his heart and mind for their little one was intoxicating, and Lyra had almost returned to the same girlish, desperate need to be with him at all times, close enough to touch. She fell asleep cradled in his arms every night, images of their future family swimming in her head.

This morning was no different. The headaches and nausea hadn't taken her yet, and Rask was quiet and content beside her. She smiled and wriggled closer without opening her eyes, pressing her lips to his bare chest as her hand came to join his on her belly.

"I had a dream about him last night," she said dreamily, then blushed to hotly, even her scalp burned. "I...had a dream it was a him," she amended. She'd not yet told Rask she wanted a boy, but the thought was so strong, it seemed unlikely he didn't know.

--

Tai always knew the moment Kohe started feeling afraid. Even if she hadn't been looking out for it, even if she hadn't been so closely attuned to the strange intricacies of her sister's mind, she would have known. Fear, she'd found over the last few years, burned nearly as strong in her mind as joy did. They were the two emotions she felt most strongly from people, even strangers. They seemed to leap out from a person, glowing, almost, casting an aura of darkness or light, depending on the emotion. And Kohe's fear always seemed to pulse a sickly red-brown, the same color of dried mud, in Tai's mind.

She'd trained herself a few years ago to wake at the slightest hint of the blood shadow, turning over to watch her sister, ready to intervene if the pulse grew too strong. It had taken several instances of trial and error before Tai realized she didn't need to wake Kohe for every nightmare, though she'd never once minded. Tai worked hard and played hard. She was often still the first up in the morning, and would power through her day, laughing, flying, speeding between one place and the next, exhausted by nightfall, quick and deep to sleep. If waking Kohe meant a few minutes or a few hours from that, she never suffered. But Kohe needed sleep, Tai knew, and so she'd learned to force herself not to move for just anything.

But this...this was bad. Tai was on her feet at once, first cautious, then almost frantic, though she was already exuding the calm she hoped would ease Kohe from the dream.

"Kohe?" Tai whispered, letting the word follow gentle, benign thoughts, simple reminders that Kohe was here, with her sister, in their bedroom, in their house. Not on a battlefield, not fighting off the fears of some dark future. "Kohe, sissy, you're okay. Wake up."

Slowly, carefully, she crossed the space between them, knowing better than just to sneak up on Kohe. She'd never been afraid her sister would hurt her -- Tai rebounded from injuries like a rubber ball from stone, fortunate, after so long tripping over her own feet -- but Kohe had knocked Tai down once, just once, and had felt awful about it for weeks afterward. Tai didn't want that again.

"Kohe, c'mon, setta. Wake up. You're -- " Kohe's tail lashed out, and Tai all but collapsed to the ground, only narrowly avoiding Kohe's hard scales colliding with the side of her head. The young Empath frowned, now more afraid Kohe was going to hurt herself, keenly aware of the fear creeping up her esophagus like bile.

"Kohe, please? It's alright, 'setta, I promise. I'm here. It's okay." She took her opening and crawled into bed beside her sister, cradling Kohe's head against her chest as she wrapped her arms around Kohe's slender shoulders.

 

[Kaisaan]

Rask started out of his thoughts, not alarmed, just surprised by Lyra's movements. The kiss had him both settling again, though, but also feeling a familiar fire stir through his blood, the feral part of his mind seeming to blink open in interest. The gold Aavan didn't act on it, though, not yet at least and instead he sighed out happily and placed a kiss to Lyra's sleep-tousled head.

He found her so beautiful and alluring in the mornings and this was no exception. Knowing she was pregnant only increased his desire for her, which he knew was odd for some male Aavan, but not uncommon entirely. It was only her morning sickness, headaches and crankiness that had kept him away.

But Rask was patient and he knew it wouldn't last forever.

Right now, though, he merely looked down to their joined hands, smiling as the glow continued to pulse, not ready to leave yet and he spoke softly into his mate's mind. "Kohe said 'he', you know." His green eyes rose up to meet her tangerine, just his expression alone telling Lyra he knew of her thoughts, the gold threads of his mind telling her he wanted the same.

"She said 'He's already here' when she spoke of the baby."

And Kohe was never wrong according to Tai.

---

Tai's words were not reaching their target, not in the least as Kohe was too deep in the time dream, too absorbed and the calm that her sister was sending was bouncing off not a wall or even Kohe's own emotions, but rather a power even Tai's own could not tame. It did not WANT Kohe waking and therefore, she would not.

And when Tai touched her, it was not wakefulness that the Demisan jolted into, but another state entirely as she stilled abruptly, looking up into her twin's violet eyes and her scarlet and sapphire one seemed to blend, one color bleeding into the other so rapidly that soon it was purple eyes that looked back at Tai.

The light came next, flashing and illuminating the room, engulfing them both until the very room was gone and darkness descended instead, a dizzying, sickening pressure coming over them before that too was gone.

--

Kohe took a deep breath as she came to and then promptly started to cough, turning over to her side to vomit, blood spurting from her nose rapidly, all combining to make a rather unpleasant situation. But the Demisan didn't seem overly surprised by it and spat into the dusty ground, coughing again and wiping - smearing - the blood from her nose with her arm.

Scarlet and sapphire eyes looked up then, assessing where she was calmly...and then feeling not so calm when she spotted Tai next to her.

For a moment, Kohe thought she'd traveled a day or two ahead, but then she looked more closely at her sister, her mind trained for details now, for inconsistencies, for signs to tell her what was going on when she abruptly found herself in a new place, whether in dreams or physically. And now she noted that Tai was wearing the same pajamas from that night. She still have that small cut she'd gained from tripping yesterday. Mostly, though, she noted that her twin was in a thin layer of dust, just like Kohe herself and she was on the ground, like Kohe.

They were not in a place her sister would ever be anyway.

It was a village, one of the outskirt towns that were being converted into Cereavan Cities - as they were now being called - but only in the infant stages of the rebuilding. There were scattered Cerebrae here and there and the same was true of Aavan. The buildings were half-finished in some places, done in others, scattered around and the streets were no better than dirt paths, some cobble-stoned rather hurriedly. The village was somewhat between the jungle and the Red Mountains, a perfect trading post once it was up and active.

Taking all that in rather quickly, Kohe moved toward her sister, crawling to her carefully and touching Tai's shoulder in worry. "Pejkia? Tai? Are you all right? Please...please be all right..." Her voice almost broke, scared that she'd harmed her sister, trying to figure out what had happened. She knew she was in a different 'when', but why was Tai here?

---

Beside Lyra, Rask stiffened and went still, his entire body in a flight or fight state as his green eyes narrowed to slits, flaring gold. It was a clear indication that something was happening to the twins and Lyra would know that after sixteen years. What she would not expect - what Rask had not expected - were the words that suddenly came out of his mind, filled with disbelief.

And fear...but also indecision.

"Kohe, she's gone again, but...but so is Tai."

And he didn't know what to make of that or whether to be panicked.

 

[DotCom]

The news tickled in her mind, the mental version of the chuffs of hot air her blew at her in his larger form, and her smile broadened, still only half awake, and maybe not fully aware of what he was saying.

"Did she?" she repeated dreamily, edging closer until she was curled almost into the concave of his body, her knees against his stomach, her head tucked beneath his chin, her fingers tracing idle patters on the back of his hand. She had replayed Kohe's words so many times, and yet had only ever really heard them once,and maybe not even that. The world had seemed to drop out from beneath her the moment she realized what Kohe was saying. Maybe she'd only ever imagined she'd heard the actual announcement. She'd already been tired, half sick, terrified. The news had taken everything else from her, leaving her in a vacuum that soon exploded with light and ecstasy, where mere words seemed not to exist.

She smiled and leaned forward again to plant a gently kiss to the inside of his arm, his neck, his chest, content for the moment simply to be with him. As she woke more, she could feel the beginnings of a headache starting behind her eyes, but she ignored it for just a few minutes more, thinking --

Rask stiffened, and the haze of sleep fell away. There was no headache, no nausea, no blissful mother, there was only Lyra, a Keeper, feeling her mate in distress. It was a second later she realized it was something to do with the twins, with Kohe, and she relaxed just slightly to know the danger was not quite immediate. Still, she waited, tense and ready to spring from the bed if and when Rask ran off for them.

When he didn't, she almost didn't know what to do.

These words, too, were slow in reaching her mind.

"...what?"
--

Tai didn't know where she was or what had happened.

One instant, she'd been trying to comfort Kohe, trying to wake her twin from the worst nightmare/time dream she'd seen so far, and then next there was a feeling like her body was being sucked through a straw. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't see, she felt horribly dizzy, almost sick to her stomach then -- nothing.

The first thing she did was roll over to vomit, cringing as the bile burned her throat. She started to sit up, then winced as she moved off a wing she'd somehow landed on. She spread her wing carefully, making a face. It was nothing more than a strain, a few days' soreness, but it would make flying hard, and Kohe would --

The thought of her sister sent her scrambling at once, reaching for Kohe almost violently in her mind. She found her at once, distressed, afraid, confused, but not hurt, and relaxed a little.

And then she looked around.

This was not her bedroom. This was not her city. This was not any place she had ever seen.

Kohe touched her shoulder a minute later, and Tai jumped as her mind began to catch up with her. All she could see what Kohe's desperate, unreachable fear, and now...this? What?

It wasn't often Tai panicked, especially not when Kohe was in danger. But what if it wasn't just Kohe in danger? She had always known how to fix nightmares. This...this was beyond her.

At once, Tai's mind went into overdrive, pouring calm out so quickly it almost smothered. She heard her sister's words in her mind only vaguely, and nodded without thinking.

"'Setta? 'Setta, it's okay, you're okay, you're just dreaming, it's okay, wake up, wake up now, 'Setta, c'mon, Kohe, you have to wake up..."

Only Kohe was just staring at her, eyes wide with worry and fear, and Tai didn't know what was happening or how to fix it, and she was scared.

Something like a whimper sounded at the back of her throat.

"C'mon, Kohe, wake up, okay? You gotta wake up. Please...please, sissy, wake up..."

That was it, she assured herself. Kohe was dreaming so strong, she'd sort of pulled Tai into her head. That had happened with others before, though not on the level of hallucinations. But Tai could get caught up in the thougths and emotions of others easily if she wasn't careful, and there was no one she was less careful with than Kohe.

"Kohe?" She put a trembling hand out to touch her sister's cheek. "Can you hear me? You gotta try and wake up now, okay? Hurry, Kohe. It's...it's bad here."

 

[Kaisaan]

"The twins, they are gone. It's like when Kohe time travels, but this time Tai is gone, too. Like..." Rask hesitated, the idea growing in his mind, large and frightening and yet making perfect sense, too. "Like she went with Kohe." he finally whispered and then sank back into the bed, staring blankly at something he didn't even register, his mind trying to absorb that. He'd grown used - though, not happily so - to Kohe Jumping, but Tai, too? Somehow that was far more concerning.

Tai...had been an anchor for Kohe to return to, a reason for her to return no matter how long she was gone, on purpose or not. But now that Tai might be with her sister? That was different.

And yet, Rask knew he could do nothing about it.

That thought had him releasing the tension with a groan, his hands finding his face for a moment before he dropped one and the other raked back through his gold hair with a sigh. Green eyes finally found Lyra again and Rask shook his head. "I can't go after them. I can feel them, though. We'll just...have to hope they come back soon." he said softly, not liking it at all, but unable to do anything about it.

And that irritated him somewhat, not just at the situation, but at the twins a bit, too. He knew it wasn't their fault, but he also knew he couldn't go back to the peace he'd felt, the warmth at being close to Lyra. Now his mind was half-focused on those he was sworn to protect and it would remain that way until they got back.

--

Kohe nearly passed out at the intensity of the emotion Tai sent into her and she blinked in surprise, not having expected that. But it had been far more overwhelming than normal, like her senses and ability to receive were far more attuned, far more sensitive than they had been. The Demisan gently, but insistently pushed back against Tai's power, requesting less intensity even as she spoke, her hands finding either side of Tai's face, knowing how her sister was feeling. Not because she had Empathy, but because Kohe had felt the same way on her first few Jumps.

And that's what she'd done. She'd Jumped and taken her sister with her. How, Kohe didn't know, but she HAD.

"Tai. Tai! Pejkia, it's not a dream. It's not a dream, it's real. Tai, this is real. We Jumped. Both of us. This is the future. This isn't a dream." She kept repeating it until her sister stopped speaking and then the Demisan simply lowered her hands to let Tai look around, to hold her sister's hands securely, giving her something familiar and solid to feel.

"I know it's bad here. I can feel it. I know it, but this isn't a dream, Tai. I can't just wake up and neither can you."

Kohe was rising and she pulled Tai up after her, looking around then, trying to figure out WHY they were here. This was not the time dream she'd been having. This was something else and Kohe wasn't sure why this was where she'd been pulled when the dream...it would have made more sense to be there.

Mismatched eyes went back to violet, concerned, calm, steady. "Are you all right?"

 

[DotCom]

Whatever there had been before, there was only him now.

Lyra was, of course, worried for the twins, and for their parents who would be in a panic when they discovered not only Kohe, but Tai missing as well, if they weren't already. It was a strange situation, one already met with fear and uncertainty -- Kohe rarely came back from her little trips through time undaunted -- now made all the more perilous by Tai's absence. The younger Demisan had never quite gotten over Kohe's first disappearance, though to her credit, she always managed much better self-control than her mother had. Lyra suspected it was a part of her strange Empathy abilities, being able to hide the terror Lyra knew she felt from everyone, even Kohe if she had to, until Kohe was safely back, treated, and sleeping. Lyra had never again had to chase after a fear-stricken Tai following Kohe's returns, but she could see it written plain on the younger twin's face in those rare moments when she allowed the horror and pain to show through: somewhere in there, a twelve-year-old girl was finding her twin badly beaten, broken, bloody on the cold bathroom floor.

Lyra wondered whether the experience would be worse or somehow better for either or both twins. They had always been better together, but better in danger did not quite equate. She felt her own worries and fears rising inside her and silently tucked them away for the moment, knowing she and Rask could not both be overwhelmed, particularly if the twins were gone for hours, in which case someone would need to keep Rora and Mori sane.

"She'll bring them back," she said after a moment, sliding close as her mind caressed his. "She always does. They'll be safe together."

--

It took Tai a long moment to realize Kohe was speaking to her, and another long moment to decipher the words. But the sound of Kohe's voice, afraid, but steady, unharmed, was enough to slow Tai's heart rate again, and she pulled back on the calm she was sending, quietly apologetic as she found a way to breathe again.

She looked around, trying to take in her surroundings, but able only to focus on Kohe, her sister's hands in hers, her sister's mind coiling with fear and confusion. Again, Tai calmed on impulse, though she was beginning to realize simply calming her sister might not be enough this time.

Was this how it had been every time Kohe had jumped? Tai felt confused and afraid, but she had the benefit of being with Kohe, and older than Kohe's eleven years on her first jump. And there was no danger here, or nothing immediately present, but there was a sourness in the air -- and in Tai's mind, a blackness that poured from surrounding emotions she couldn't yet untangle to examine -- that threatened to turn her stomach.

It was a moment again before Tai realized Kohe was speaking. She turned back to her sister, though her eyes were something else.

"I hurt my wing," she said quietly, distantly, as if she were recalling something bad that had happened to something else. She shook herself when she realize Kohe might be in actual danger, that this was precisely the sort of thing she had spent the last five years of her life preparing for. Slowly, violet eyes found scarlet and blue.

Tai forced a weak smile and nodded once. "I'm okay, 'setta. Are you?" She knew now was not the time, but there was still a fear there present in Kohe, in whatever she had been dreaming of, and if they couldn't get back now, there was no reason she couldn't help clear her sister's head.

 

[Kaisaan]

Her wing?

Kohe's hands were immediately reaching around, finding Tai's wings and slowly examining them, running her palm over the membrane and bones, searching for cuts or broken bones, but she found none, quickly assuring herself that it was probably just soreness that plagued her sister. Her mismatched eyes soon came back to Tai, taking note of her sister's strained smile with a steady, calm look of her own, the fear starting to drain away to be replaced with an observant, calculating mind.

It was almost a cold demeanor and something Tai would have NEVER felt from Kohe before. She had no reason to use it around her family, around those she trusted. But here, in these future Jumps where she never knew what was going to happen? It had only taken seven Jumps and hundreds of time dreams for her to discover the need to be less open, more controlled, quicker in her thinking, in her reactions. That's what the Demisan was now...though, this time around, she maintained a warmth and familiarity that extended to only Tai, knowing her twin needed it, not wanting to scare Tai.

"I'll be fine, Pejkia. I'm not injured." she assured softly before looking around again, knowing what her sister was actually asking, but also knowing now was not the time to discuss it, just as she sensed that Tai knew it as well.

No, they were here for a reason - or Kohe was, she wasn't sure why Tai was - and the Demisan searched out that reason now, taking Tai's hand and starting to walk, moving into the village...and closer to the uneasy vibrations in the air. Vibrations that Kohe was still learning about, but something she suspected to be the ripples of Time itself, something only she seemed able to see.

They shook and hummed when something was wrong, something...that wasn't supposed to happen...or maybe something that was changing unnaturally, or a pivotal point that could be changed.... Maybe all three, but Kohe wasn't sure how to distinguish them yet. What she did know was that she'd yet to be able to change anything herself and that frustrated her.

Right now, though, she was merely anxious to find where the disturbance was. And soon enough, she and Tai did find it.

They came upon the scene quickly, a crowd gathered around three Cerebrae - two of them Keepers and the third being a merchant - and what first appeared to be one adult, blue Aavan. It was clear tensions were high as the merchant kept pointing at something, nearly yelling her words and the Keepers kept tight hands on their weapons, one trying to speak between the two parties and the other watching the Aavan nervously. And perhaps the Keeper had right to be nervous as the blue Aavan, female, looked absolutely furious, snarling terribly and her fangs gleamed savagely in the dying light of the third and final sun. She was in large form and looked like she was barely keeping control of her temper.

Not hesitating, Kohe shoved her way past people, ignoring their gasps of amazement and recognition as they caught sight of her tail and Tai's wings as she pulled her sister after her.

They weren't quick enough, though.

Something happened that Kohe did not catch, someone in front of her and suddenly there was a great bellowing roar of pain and then silence, something heavy hitting the ground. The Demisan froze, her view of the scene suddenly clear and what her mismatched eyes saw, finally understood, threatened to bring the bile rising up again.

The blue Aavan had fallen and the nervous Keeper was looking down at her electrified weapon with growing realization...and then horror as a streak of blue came out from under the merchant's stand and came to the dead Aavan's muzzle, whimpering and then starting to keen mournfully.

It was a child, a young blue Aavan no more than five years old and in his hand was clutched a red ball, the same shape and shade as the fruits the merchant was selling. A fruit Aavan could not even eat.

A misunderstanding. That's all this had been and now...now a mother was dead.

 

[DotCom]

She built a shield around them then, an invisible orb of UV light extending several feet in any direction. If an attack came, it would not protect them from much, but it would let her know ahead of time whether anything meant to harm Kohe.

Tai nodded at her sister's words, but didn't let her guard down. It felt strange being in this headspace, not just physically, but mentally. Tai had always thought this was where her sister, her mother, Aunt Lyra belonged. Alert and tense and expecting the worst. Tai had always been the more positive of the two, though not without good reason. She was a young master at taking things as they came to her, never upset long over anything that wasn't Kohe. But being here, she found herself trying something new, keeping a close look out for anything that could harm her sister. It was all she could think about. So many times she had promised to protect Kohe, and so many times she had fallen short. And now she was here, in one of these awful jumps, the kind Kohe returned from battered and exhausted, and there was something out there trying to hurt her, and for once, maybe something Tai could do. And she would. She would do whatever it took to keep her sister safe.

But the attack, when it came, was not directed at Kohe.

Like her older twin, the young Empath could feel a stirring in the air, not of time vibrations, but of the mental sort. Somewhere close, tensions were rising, anger and fear and confusion and hatred. The last of these burned like acid in the back of her throat, a taste so strong it made her grimace. It was a feeling she understood well by now, even if she had only encountered it a few times in her life. But each time, it left it's mark, a feeling so foreign, so difficult even for the Empath to grasp, that it seared and writhed in her hands like hot metal. Hatred. Loathing. Bigotry. She knew it all, and she knew what would happen even before they had come upon the scene.

Tai was moving almost before Kohe had pulled her along, seeing at once in her head the mindset of all five would-be victims, three Cerebrae, and the two Aavan, though she could not yet see the second. It was precisely what Lyra had taught her to do all those years ago, crouched on the bathroom floor, her hands sticky with Kohe's blood. Look beyond the anger and hate to what was really happening. Fear, sadness, confusion. A child lost a toy, a mother's love spilling over him. A Cerebra feared not being able to feed her children, and the Keepers stood between bound by law and duty.

It was over in a moment, fear flashing to pain so abrupt Tai cried out, reeling. Fear, pain, hopelessness, then nothing.

It was the first death she'd ever experienced, and even as Kohe crept forward, Tai swayed on her feet, a vague buzzing filling her ears as she waited to pass out.

It didn't happen. Tai had closed her eyes to quell the wave of nausea that washed over, feeling the crowd of Cerebrae and Aavan behind her move aside -- and then segregate -- as her knees started to buckle.

But the grief was stronger than the fear, the pain, and in an instant, Tai found herself on her knees, not vomiting, but cradling the child to her chest. The calm she sent was gentle, coaxing, not enough to overwhelm or smother the grief, just enough to take off the edge of fresh new pain and shock.

There was so much she wanted to promise. That he would be alright, that his mother had lived, that she and Kohe could travel, somehow, find some way to fix what had happened. But she knew she could not, and she knew well that empty promises dug deeper and hurt longer than no words at all.

Instead, she just held him there, letting him collapse against her as his tiny legs gave out.

"It's okay to cry, little one," she promised, offering what she could. "It's okay."

 

[Kaisaan]

Kohe looked around without comprehension at the faces around them, faces that cringed away from hers, noting she was streaked with blood and covered in the strange markings that she was unaware were shimmering and glowing like glittering silver beneath water. She didn't register them, her mismatched eyes searching desperately for something she could not name, but felt.

Oh, she felt it like the most bitter of cold against her skin and yet the hottest, burning fire.

It was here, that familiar feeling she'd come across when she'd been six and Tai had been so sick, when Uncle Rask had taken the darkness into his body to save her and Kohe had drawn it out of him in turn. It felt like hatred and bitterness. It felt wrong...and it RIPPLED with time energy, causing massive vibrations in the air.

And she finally tracked it down to the merchant even as Tai kept her attention to the child. Kohe watched, though, as the dark cloud left the Cerebra, leaving her shaken and dazed, collapsing on her feet. The Demisan hardly paid attention to that, though, shooting her hand out, calling on the power she'd not touched in ten years. It came as if she trained with it every day, but when it left her, it didn't capture the darkness, but rather grazed it, causing the thing to turn and somehow, Kohe saw it for what it was.

Dark eyes met blazing mismatched ones and the two glared at each other in mutual understanding that spanned more than this moment, more than the present, but into the past, into the future.

And then the Ashkerai was gone and Kohe could feel the dizziness coming over her again, snapping her back into reality, making her search frantically for her twin. When she found Tai, she gripped her, unceremoniously pulling her from the Aavanian child who continued to cry after Tai had departed. Kohe didn't get to explain her reasoning as the world around them lurched, spun and then went dark again.

--

Kohe blinked open her eyes to see the ceiling of her bedroom and groaned, looking over to her left to see the smashed lamp her tail had knocked over and then she turned her head again to her right to spot Tai. Only then did the Demisan release the tension radiating off her body, closing her eyes again in relief so strong she wanted to cry.

Well, no, she wanted to cry anyway.

She'd brought her sister back, though, and that was something she would be grateful for. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Tai, but we couldn't stay and he couldn't come with us. I'm sorry."

 

[DotCom]

Tai hardly felt the dizziness wash over her as Kohe pulled her away from the child. For the first time in her life, she fought against her twin, might have even been angry if there was not so much of it already in the air. Anger, hatred, fear, all of it swirling to a malicious epicenter inside of the dark thing Kohe had confronted, and Tai had never even seen, because somehow, strong than all of that, the little Aavan's grief raged inside her mind like a storm. Was this what it was to lose a parent, a sibling? She tried and found she could not even come near the idea of Kohe dying in her arms. Her older sister finally succeeded in pulling her away and the last thing she saw before the world went dark was the face of the Aavan child. There had been no chink of comfort or relief in his sadness, and Tai knew then you could not fix everything with hope and light.

--

Tai shivered as she came awake, feeling that same sense of nausea wash over her, though she was too tired to let it overwhelm her. She shut her eyes and fended it off, listening to Kohe's voice in her mind, fighting the desire to simply ignore her sister. It would help nothing, she knew. She and Kohe had returned unharmed -- physically, anyway -- and she was grateful for that. Tai had survived her first time jump and Kohe her eighth, and she could already feel the relief of their parents, of Uncle Rask and Aunt Lyra wash over her like a balm. They were loved and protected. Their family was unharmed.

But somewhere, somehow, that little Aavan child was crying amidst a sea of swelling anger and hatred. Would anyone tend to him? Would his father be able to see anything but his own rage? Rora and Mori had learned to hide their feelings from her, though she'd never told them she could feel them all anyway. But most parents were not so inclined to keep those feelings of terror and loathing at bay. Would anyone comfort the child, toss that little orange ball back and forth with him? Or would he be raised to stew in the hatred she had felt there?

The thought threatened to break her heart.

She did not blame Kohe. She could feel her sister's own sadness and revulsion clear in her mind, and when Kohe apologized, Tai nodded and gave another half-hearted smile.

But it did not change anything. There was still a motherless child, a hundred thousand motherless children, suffering for crimes they would only grow into.

"I know, 'Setta. It's okay." Tai rolled over to face the wall, her bruised wing dangling off he edge of the bed. "I'm going to go to sleep now. I'm tired."

She closed her eyes, but she didn't sleep.

 

[Kaisaan]

Kohe blinked at her sister, almost startled by her reaction.

And then it hit the Demisan like a ton of bricks: Tai wasn't like her. Oh, she'd always known that, it wasn't really a surprise and it wasn't what she was really focused on now. Not the part where Tai couldn't Jump or the part where Tai couldn't see the Timestream, the past, present and future flowing through her head in a constant stream, like a river held captive by the banks of her mind, sometimes sloshing over and affecting her waking and dreaming world. She had always known Tai wasn't like that, accepted it.

But this...this was a different type of not being like her.

It was not bad, but it was different and Kohe was just now understanding it. And it made her sad because it meant she was just that much more strange.

Tai went too deep into Jumps. Yes, it was her first time, but Kohe could already see it, see the time energy clinging to her sister, reluctant to let go. Her twin held on too tightly, felt too much, cared too much and she went too deep. It was just how Tai was and it was a POWERFUL gift, a power unlike anything Kohe could ever wield, but it was not meant for Jumping. It would not help Tai in a Jump. It would only harm her in the long run and Kohe realized that while she was damaged, while she was plagued with what she'd seen and what she would see, she didn't let it hook into her. Only two time dreams had managed to dig their claws in, but the rest...she acknowledged it, but then let it slide off like water from her scales. She had to. There would be more Jumps, more time dreams to come and she couldn't hold on to all of them.

But Tai would.

It was crystal clear in Kohe's mind and instantly she knew what she had to do. Mismatched eyes grew clear, calm, determined and she scooted closer to Tai, touching her twin's shoulder, knowing she wasn't asleep. "I know you are hurting and I know that you will never forget that child, but I promise you his future will not be like that, Tai." She moved away from her sister then, getting off the bed and quickly started to dress in shorts that were fraying at the ends and a tank-top, not bothering with shoes as she hastily pulled her wild hair back around her ears, searching for a hair tie and not finding it yet.

"That was the future, Pejkia, and what's more, it was changeable. I could feel that much. So we're going to change it."

Simple as that. She didn't care if she had to search the Timestream for hours, she'd find when this was going to happen and she'd find out where, and they'd be there to stop it.

No ifs or buts about it.

Kohe was not going to let that little child's tear-stained face be the last memory Tai had of him, she would not let the torment it would give her sibling be in vain. That Jump would mean something. It would mean a life was SAVED, not just witnessed as it was lost.

 

[DotCom]

Tai felt the change in her sister like a cool breeze on a hot day, and her interest was immediately piqued, despite her dour mood. She didn't move, but she didn't push Kohe away, either, as she felt her scoot closer, and when she promised change, Tai rolled over, studying her sister's face with equal parts caution and hope.

"We can change it?" she said slowly, uncertain. She sat up. "How? Will...will it hurt you?"

Tai knew just as well as Kohe that she and her sister were different people. Tai got attached to everything and everyone she met; Kohe was more reserved, more analytical. Kohe tended to think things through, her experiences, especially in time, allowing rationality to reign over her emotions. Tai thought with her heart, Kohe, her head. She knew well it did not make things better or worse for either of them, only changed the way they handled situations. But now, they were on the same page. Both twins could be doggedly determined despite themselves, however different their reasoning might be. Kohe was all about righting wrongs. Thing had never been quite black and white for her, but Tai saw shades of gray most others missed.

And yet now, Kohe was seeing a wrong, something she could fix, and when she did, she sunk her teeth into the new passion like a dog with a bone, never letting go until things were just right.

Tai lacked that tenacity, that foresight and determination. She was driven, as Kohe had guessed, by the feel of that Aavan child's shaking shoulders, the cold touch of his grief within her head. She could still feel it there, though technically, she knew it hadn't even happened yet.

And she planned to keep it that way.

A new expression fell over the Empath's face, as uncommon to Kohe as Kohe's coolly analytical side had been to Tai. Her eyes were hard, not angry, but focused, and even feeling her parents come down the hall, full of worry and relief, could not loose her thoughts.

"Kohe, if it will hurt you, we...we have to be careful. But I want to help. I'm going to help."

Rora was crying almost before she pushed into the room, relief so great she could hardly speak as she saw her daughters returned, unharmed. Tai met her mother's probing mind with a calm reassurance that she and Kohe were alright, easily hiding the death from her, knowing how it would feel to her mother. But never once did the younger Demisan look away from her sister.

"I'm going to help, Kohe. I want to change the future, too."

--

Lyra was curled between the toilet and the wall on the bathroom floor when she felt Rask go rigid next to her. Dozing, her head resting in a feverish haze against his shoulder, she first thought he was feeling the pangs of her headache again, or that his body was warning him she was going to be sick for the umpteenth time in an hour. But then she felt his mind sharpen and focus, the same hardened demeanor Ras'K had once carried and knew the twins were back.

Her mind curled feebly around his, offering calm and reassurance while at the same time ensuring, without speaking, both twins had returned unharmed. She pulled the blanket he'd draped over her shoulders closer around them and pressed her cheek to his shoulder, as close as she could come to physical affection at the moment. She appreciated his warmth, his strength there next to her, despite having told him half a dozen times to leave her to check on the twins. But he'd insisted in that strange, if momentarily detached way he was not going to live her miserable on the bathroom floor, that there was nothing he could do for the twins until they returned, anyway.

"They're back," she said uselessly after a moment. "Right? The both of them? You should go, Rask. It's not like Rora and Mori will be very level-headed. I'll follow when I can."

 

[Kaisaan]

Kohe had been distracted enough with looking for her hair tie while simultaneously starting to search through the Timestream, that she didn't answer Tai's question even as she heard it distantly and it wasn't until Tai spoke again that she stopped moving and looked up, meeting her twin's eyes. What she saw there surprised, but did not startle her and Kohe smiled softly, just a little as she nodded slowly to her sister, barely able to be seen by anyone else and certainly not by their parents when they came in.

"I will need your help. I would not think to go without you, I promise. We will fix this together, Tai. This is how it should be." Her last words were not so much Kohe as something else entirely and dark purple flashed in her eyes as her smile grew just a little before she turned away, breaking eye-contact and meeting the embrace of her father instead.

Mori was not crying, but his worry was a force to be reckoned with and he held Kohe back a bit, looking her over, alarmed at the blood on her face, the smell of bile on her breath and the same for Tai. "What happened? Did you Jump again?"

Kohe nodded and looked from her mother to her father, weighing their emotional state, gauging potential reactions and finally she spoke, calmly, but with less of a 'mature' air to her voice and more of their sixteen year old daughter, the child they still half-seemed to want her to be. "We're fine, Mama, Papa. We just discovered something, that's all."

Mori's brows drew together and his mind moved quickly, almost seeing the things that his daughter did not say, suspicious now...just as Kohe had wanted him to be. If he was interested and thinking he wasn't frantic and worried, overprotective. Now Rora...well, Kohe would leave her up to Tai. Emotion should be dealt with emotion and Tai had always known how to speak to their mother in a way Kohe did not, unable to understand how their emotions could overwhelm their common sense so much.

Yes, she loved her mother and she adored and would do ANYTHING for her sister, but that didn't mean she always understood them and that was all right. Few understood her either. Their father came closer than Rora and Rask came closer than Mori, but truly there was no one Kohe had met that truly could see into her mind, comprehend how she thought, how she could see so many outcomes of one situation flash through her head and be able to pick the one most favorable in the span of a few blinks of her eye.

Perhaps she wasn't meant to be understood.

"Discovered something? What...and what do you plan on doing with this information?"

Kohe sat down on the edge of the bed, next to Tai and it was clear they were already putting up a unified front. The Demisan answered factually. "Tai and I want to start traveling. We are old enough now and it's time we started to meet our people, all of them. We are not young children anymore and we're going to be diplomats whether we mean to or not. We want to start learning now."

--

Rask felt torn as he looked to the door and then back at his mate.

The twins were back, yes, and their emotions were jumbled, wild and then calm, determined and hurt, it was strange and he wanted to know if they were truly all right. But if he went now....he wouldn't get an accurate picture of their well-being anyway. He loved Mori and Rora, but truth was that they made his duty far more difficult than it had to be. He wouldn't be able to get close to the twins right now, not with them just having gotten back.

Mori and Rora would be with them and as long as there was no pain, no distress, no fear from the twins, no feeling of being 'gone' again...he knew their parents would be adequate comfort for them now. Tai would need it more than Kohe, he could feel that and Rora and Mori would be good for that. They knew their youngest very well, Rora especially. But Kohe....Rask knew he'd had to talk to her alone later.

There was something off about her suddenly.

But he wouldn't be able to do it now, so there was really no reason for him to leave. So Rask didn't, relaxing his body again and he turned his head, kissing Lyra's temple softly, lovingly as his crooning mind wrapped more securely, gently around her weak and tired scarlet. "I'm not going anywhere. They are back and unharmed, and they have their parents. They have their family."

He placed a kiss to her lips this time, chaste and sweet, but meaningful anyway especially so as his hand moved over her stomach, protective and claiming. "And mine needs me."

 

[DotCom]

Despite everything, Tai had to bite her lip to keep from grinning at Tai as she braced herself -- and then her mother -- against the tide of emotions she could feel rising in Rora.

"It's okay, Mama," Tai said patiently. Unlike Kohe, she had never quite dropped out of using the childish monikers for her parents. And it had always seemed to fit -- not necessarily because Tai was more immature, but because she had that ability to see the very center of people, what they were, who they wanted. She knew from her aunts and uncles what Rora and Mori had been, what they technically still were. But they identified now as parents, as though they had moved from their place in the sunshine to quietly hand over power to a new generation. They just hadn't Tai knew, expected it to be their own children, though neither seemed all that surprised.

And Rora wasn't surprised. She had known from their moment of conception the twins would and could not be restricted to a quiet life of simplicity and joy. They had proved her intuition right a hundred times over.

She still wasn't keen on what Kohe was saying. What mother would be?

"No," Rora said cleanly, just manage to keep her irritation -- fueled by fear and the knowledge that she was going to lose this battle, Tai knew -- to a low simmer. "No. It's too dangerous, Kohe, you must know that. There are places you two, especially you two wouldn't be safe."

Tai knew precisely what it was her mother was referring to and winced, both in pain of the memory and in realization that her mother was fightened badly enough to strike so low.

"Mama, there's danger everywhere," Tai said levelly. "Kohe knows that better than anyone. If we leave now...there's a chance we could fix some of it, keep it from ever being dangerous at all."

"That's what your father and I are trying to do, Tai," Rora said, feeling her grasp on the situation slip. "And even we are in danger when we travel. If you want to come with us, maybe we could think about that, but -- "

"We don't want to go with you." Tai held her mother's gaze, feeling the aversion there and forcing herself past it. She hated fighting with her mother, or with anyone. But Kohe's determination fueled her own, and she didn't back down. "We need to go by ourselves. Kohe's right, and you know it. We'll be diplomats, symbols, whether we like it or not. We can't stay here anymore, Mama. It's time we start our own lives."

"You're sixteen! You're babies!" Rora blurted, and Tai smiled, extending a calm her mother tried to ignore.

"We haven't been babies since the day I fell in that river, Mama. You know that." Now it was Rora who winced, turning away from her girls because she could feel tears starting, looking to Mori for help and fighting the urge to snap at him when she saw he wasn't going to.

"It's okay, Mama, Papa," Tai said again, more gently this time, her mind curling around both her parents affectionately. She knew they worried about her, about Kohe. Worried Kohe was too quiet, too serious, that Tai was too sensitive. They weren't, perhaps, wrong, but neither could they protect the twins from themselves. It was time to go. Not forever, but for a time. They would make a way in their world, and then in every world. Even Rora could see that.

"We train every day with Uncle Rask and Uncle Lyra. We can take care of each other. We won't be gone long, and if there's trouble, we'll keep in touch," she was careful not to add 'right away' or 'we'll come back', but she hid that from Rora.

"Mama, we're gonna do this," Tai finished gently, knowing this next part might have triggered her mother's temper if she weren't feeling quite so defeated already. "You can't stop us. But we'd really like your blessing."

 

[Kaisaan]

Mori knew his mate wasn't pleased with him, with his silence, with his lack of protest, but watching his children, the determination and wisdom in both their eyes, he could not find it within himself to argue with them. Not like this. Oh, there would be compromises to deal out - they were not going alone - but to outright tell them no? He couldn't do that because they were right. It was time. He only had to look at them to know that, to see the young adults they were becoming and how gifted each of them were to understand that whether he or Rora liked this or not, they had to let the twins go.

And Tai's words only confirmed it as she finished speaking, leaving the four in silence that, surprisingly, Kohe broke, her voice soft and sure in the stillness around them. "This is what we were born for, Mother, Father. Our powers give us the ability to do things that others can not, just as being the Kaloranis and the Maiden gave you the ability to save your people. My ability, Tai's ability, they give us the means to mend our people. This is why we were born and you've always known it."

Mismatched eyes held Rora's then, knowing their mother was the one to convince, to reassure, to challenge even. And it was that last aspect alone that should make Rora realize that her daughters were no longer children, no longer babies as she wanted them to be if only to keep them safe and close and out of harm's way.

"You saved and built this world up so that we could live in it, have peace, joy, but that's not going to happen if we are never allowed to do what we were born to do. We're not asking to go off-planet or into a warzone. Only too see the cities, to see our people, to understand them and let them meet us."

Scarlet and sapphire eyes glanced at the black Aavan and Kohe smiled just a little, immediately knowing what it was he would say, sighing and shaking her head, appearing her age once more as she glanced to Tai and then back to their mother. "And we'll take Uncle Rask with us. It's not like he's going to let us go alone anyway. Neither are father or you."

It was a compromise.

"You know if we say no, they will do it anyway, little rainbow." Mori cautioned, watching their daughters with a mixture of fondness and exasperation. Where had his little toddlers gone?

 

[DotCom]

Rora said nothing to Mori, afraid if she looked at him, she would start crying or shouting, or something that would further invalidate her already feeble argument.

In her mind, she knew the decision had already been made. Short of strapping them down, there was nothing she could do to keep her two little girls -- both of whom now taller than her -- at her side, and between the two of them, she was not sure even that would work. And Rora was proud. The others might not know, might not even suspect, but she was. She had known for many years now her children were meant for greater things, and to say it filled her with a keen sense of pride, strong enough to make Tai cant her head to the side and smile curiously. Rora met those eyes, Mori's eyes, with a sad smile of her own, knowing then her children were no longer just hers to have. They belonged to a world, a cause greater than themselves, even, and Rora could not hold on to them.

And yet to think of that night when the storm had come just days after she and Mori had saved a people -- two peoples -- from a force of darkness that still lingered in the corners of the planet, it made Rora ache inside and out. She was not afraid for them. She trusted Kohe, her beautiful, smart, responsible daughter, to be a level head where Tai failed. And she knew Tai would go to the moon and back if Kohe asked it of her. They would be safe together, and safer with Rask. But she would miss them in a way none of them, not even Mori, could understand. A mother's love spanned the planet, the universe and back. It went beyond a need for companionship, a drive to protect. She was sending two pieces of her soul into the universe, and trusting that universe to be gentle with them.

It had never been the world's job to mother her children. That was her job, and now it was out of her hands.

"No, it isn't, Mama," Tai said smiling, and Rora knew her youngest's words were just for her. She at first suspected Kohe, or even Mori, had pushed Tai to convince her, but a moment's consideration showed, no. This was Tai, her little Tai, the one Kohe so aptly called 'sunbeam', doing her part in changing the world, first, by changing her mother.

"You're still our Mama. Forever. Wherever you are, you'll always be Mama, and just because we go somewhere else or somewhen else doesn't change it." The cheeky grin Rora had so adored when Tai was small broadened. "You're stuck with us."

And Rora was lost. Kohe had won her mind, Tai her heart, and Mori -- whom she was still ready to punch -- her soul. Her daughters were laving, for better or worse.

"I know," Rora said aloud finally, reluctantly allowing herself to lean into her mate. "I know. And I know you must go. I am...proud of you. Both of you. Just...before you do anything stupid, remember your father and I wasting away here in the city by ourselves," she said wrily. "And do not -- repeat -- do not come back with mates." She gave Mori a wry grin. "That was a one time event, ladies."

 

[Kaisaan]

Mori relaxed as soon as he felt the acceptance in Rora's mind, not wanting to fight her on it and he rested his head on her own when she leaned into him, not at all bothered by the vague threat of violence in her mind, rather amused by it really. That amusement spilled over at his mates words and the black Aavan laughed, tapping her nose gently before he looked to the twins, seeing that Tai was taking it in a stride, smiling, but Kohe...

Well, perhaps he should not have been surprised by her completely thoughtful look, but he was. Surely...no, she wasn't old enough! Neither of them were. They'd not even gone in that cycle of their lives yet, the need to find a mate had not struck - if it would at all - so why the pondering from his elder daughter?

"Koheera?"

Mismatched eyes flickered to violet and then to green and the Demisan smiled in her way, fond but a mysterious kind of knowing in the expression that made Mori glance to Rora, his mind coiling nervously in hers, before Kohe spoke, finally finding her hair tie and pulling the messy mane of white and black out of her face.

"Don't worry, we won't come back with any this time. They're not ready yet either and they have to choose their paths still."

And with that, she walked out of the room, tail swinging casually, leaving her father blinking after her and then slowly looking to Tai and then down to Rora, violet eyes wide. "Did...did I just hear our daughter basically tell us she knows exactly who Tai and her mates are?"

Out of all the things his eldest had done, for some reason that shocked Mori more than other incidents should have done. But mates. His little, baby girl was talking about mates! His little, precious Kohe, whom he'd held in his arms not so long ago and wrestled with, who'd tried to paint his nails with Tai giggling hysterically beside her....his daughter...was talking about mates.

No. No, he wasn't ready for that.

 

[DotCom]

Rora was silent for a long moment after Kohe left, looking back and forth between her mate's expression and her daughter's, precisely opposite each other despite the features they shared. To her immediate right, Mori looked like he was trying to swallow and entire starfruit with little to no success. She could feel his mind tense within hers, not quite panicked, but close as he tried to wrap his mind around the idea of his daughters taking mates. There was a quick thrill of vindictive pride as she realized for once, he might get to play the strict parent.

Many Cerebrae did not take mates, so much as occasional companions in the Paters, and even that was rare. Cerebrae were simply not built for companionship, though the Aavan were changing that, slowly and surely. Rora had long ago acclimated to the fact that she -- and the twins -- were different from most of their kind, and while she had joked, and the thought was a little shocking...she also knew her daughters were, frankly, quite the catch. She had seen others, both Aavan and Cerebrae, watch Tai and Kohe go about from the corner of her eye, felt the admiration there and taken it in stride. The fact that none of them had been good enough was entirely separate. Kohe had always been a natural beauty, lean and graceful, strong and intelligent. And Tai had a smile that could literally brighten an entire room. She made everyone -- everyone -- feel loved and accepted, cherished and understood. Rora was not quite keen to give her daughters away, but she was proud that they were so desired.

So, while Mori balked next to her, she rose on her toes to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek, soothing and teasing with a touch.

"You sound surprised," she said easily, looking back at Tai, whose expression closely matched the one she wore the morning she learned Mori was going to teach her to fly.

"Try and look more somber, Tai," Rora advised wryly. "You're going to give your father a heart attack."

 

[Kaisaan]

----------

Kohe and Tai slipped into their new lives easily in the next six months. It had all started with that one village, that one mother, that one child. They'd stopped the killing there and Kohe had never see her sister more happy, more emotional than she'd been that day. It had made the week of hellish searching more than worth it. It would make doing it over and over again worth it just to see her twin light up like that, knowing she'd helped, knowing that her Empathic powers had done something wonderful and great, calming violence, saving lives, helping people. It was everything Tai was built for, everything that fueled her indomidable spirit and Kohe was more than happy to help, to remain in the background.

To be the one that confronted the true evil just as she'd done that day in the village for the second time.

That time, though, the Ashkerai had not escaped. She'd sent it back, hurtling across time, back where it belonged, blocking it from ever returning again...and not even sure how she did it. She didn't care to know, not in that moment. It was only later that she wondered and Uncle Rask wondered with her, explaining how time travel had worked for him in the future.

It was nothing like what Kohe could do and she knew - she KNEW - she'd barely scratched the surface of her abilities. THAT she did not mention, though. It scared her just as much as it interested her, and all the same, she knew it wasn't time to reveal it.

Not yet.

She wasn't old enough and Tai wasn't ready. Her sister was finally coming into her own, stretching her abilities, flexing her Empathy and the white-black haired Demisan encouraged her every step of the way, immensely proud of her sibling and willing to help her in any way she could. But Kohe knew she was merely biding her own time where her power was concerned. She felt like it had always been there, ready to surge into its full potential since she was young, since her sixth year if she was honest with herself, but it had never been the right time. It still wasn't and so it waited.

And Kohe was content to let it wait, more than busy with keeping the peace, gaining more responsibility among their people, slowly starting to discuss taking over some of their parent's duties and now more than busy getting back home because they were about to become cousins.

From Asesee's golden back, mismatched eyes looked over to Tai, flying beside their Aunt. "What do you think they'll name him?" she asked almost teasingly. They both knew that Kohe could find out if she wished, but this time...she hadn't wanted to know, wanting the fun of guessing and Tai knew that, too.

This time, Kohe wanted a surprise as well.

--

Rask would never, ever regret wanting children. He'd never wish that Lyra had not gotten pregnant, not when he saw how happy it made her, not when he watched her cradle her stomach so lovingly when she thought no one was looking, not when he'd caught her talking to the swell in her middle or that one time he'd caught her drawing happy faces on her belly. No, he would never wish that his child was not growing within her. He would never forget the day the baby had kicked, how joyful and ecstatic she'd been. He would never regret things like that, would never resent their child.

But he HATED what this process had done to her.

This was NOT the Lyra he knew and while he still loved her, it was hard to enjoy a great deal of this process. She was miserable. Simple as that and no other way to say it. He hardly recognized her most days, even her mind changed - more needy at best, almost catatonic at worst. She slept a great deal and when she wasn't sleeping, she was snappy and overprotective to a point where even Rask found it hard to calm her. IT was those times when he was grateful that his own Father Instincts were under his firm control, just like everything else thirty years of 'training' had taught him to repress. It came in handy now as he was the reasonable one these past few months, keeping Lyra under wraps.

There had, admittedly, been a few scares where they'd nearly lost the baby and it hadn't helped anything. To this day, none of the Whisperers or Healers could tell them if the baby would survive. Lyra's body was changing rapidly as she neared her due date and that was affecting the baby's environment, but also the Keeper herself. She was constantly riddled with cramps and her fever was nearly continuous, causing her appetite to wane when she needed it most. Rask nearly had to force her to eat some days. He knew her fear of the birth itself did not help anything and after leaving for a few hours and finding that she'd not eaten and had tried to go to the sparring grounds, he made an effort not to leave her anymore.

Everyone else was grateful for it, not truly knowing how to handle her - though, Rora was a good babysitter when she had the time, already having gone through this type of process.

And the twins - they were a miracle for when they visited, Tai's powers helped to calm his mate, to calm the child within her who seemed so active and insistent that he wanted to come OUT. And then there was Kohe who said calmly, every single time she came, every time she saw Lyra and Rask, every time she heard of the latest scare, that their child would be fine.

As Tai liked to remind them; Kohe was never wrong.

It was reassuring and Rask wished he could have some kind of reassurance now as he watched Lyra's body be wracked by another contraction. He wanted to DO something to help with the pain, but the only thing he could offer was protection for their child, a golden glow wrapped around the infant inside, his life-force not about to leave their baby...but unable to help Lyra at the same time.

Rask brushed her hair back, brushing his fingers against her sweat-covered skin, shushing her softly even as he knew she wouldn't be quieted and that was all right. "You're doing well. Breathe, love. Breathe, Lyra. It will be over soon. You're doing well."