Chapter Five

Confusion.

I hated it, and unfortunately, it was all I felt. Upon my return and destruction of my entire quarters, including, but not limited to throwing half of it out the window, I shook so violently with a cold that seeped straight to my bones. Confusion lashed through me, accompanied by disgust and horror. Wishing desperately to cleanse the feelings from myself, as well as my soiled pants, I threw my clothes into the fire pit, which I had yet to use until today, and lit the flames with the wave of my hand, causing yellow and orange hands to shoot up and grab the clothing, turning it to ash.

I fled to the bathing room, climbing into the pool quickly and grabbing the oils and cloth, scrubbing at my skin until it was raw with color and smelled heavily of eucalyptus and oak moss. I scrubbed the oil through my hair, rinsed it out, repeated the process all over again, desperate to clean myself of the physical and mental filth and while my skin appeared to be thoroughly cleansed, my mind refused to settle, refused to calm and look at the situation from a logic standpoint.

My heart was in a frenzy and I was unsure how to cope with it all. Despite bathing over and over again, the sensation in my chest refused to fade and I was forced to exit the bathing pool from a fruitless cleaning. Instead, I slid gracefully to the floor before the fire pit, settled upon a rabbit soft rug, drawing my knees to my chest and staring into the fire, watching the flames pop and crackle as they devoured what was left of the sullied clothing.

What was that? What had happened to me out there?

I had been calm, calculated as I first arrived, intent to spy upon Atlan and my brother in order to quiet the suspicions of Atlan being related to Thia's murder, a suspicion based upon nothing, but emotions. I had never seen Xiphrus so furious, and to insult his own children? Even Geara never did such a thing, even when her children could be quite rowdy and wild.

And then suddenly, Xiphrus had... I had no idea what he thought he was doing. It was as if Atlan had suddenly turned him into an obedient kitten. Gone with Xiphrus's overpowering presence and his incredible intelligence. Suddenly, he was on his knees, attempting to placate Atlan, who appeared to almost be feeding off of Xiphrus's emotions.

Why had I become so aroused by the sight? Certainly it would have angered me. It was the same questioning sensation I felt when I'd seen them kiss in the woods a while back. It had been a strange insane jealousy I had never felt before. I had no right to feel such. And was it for Atlan or Xiphrus?

Once upon a time, I would've instantly said it was Xiphrus. Xiphrus was the only creature who could stir up my emotions the way they had tonight.

But now? There was an abrupt hunger, a desperate thirst, for Atlan. My mouth had gotten dry watching Xiphrus go down on his knees and take Atlan into his mouth. There was a roaring heat inside me that begged me to join them and show Atlan I was far more superior than Xiphrus in terms of serving him.

And it was terrifying.

That was not me. That was not how I felt about the creature. Now, in the safety of my room, I could firmly say I did not like Atlan. The creature was evil. It bled from his pores, and gleamed in his smile. It was as Geara said; Evil was whatever we wanted most desperately. Evil took the form of ultimate beauty, of the sweetest of smells, in order to lure its Love.

And it had already sank its claws into Xiphrus.

And that was what brought tears to my eyes.

Xiphrus was completely and utterly in love with Atlan. It was not lust or infatuation. There was a hopeful glint in his eyes, a dependence and adoration and worshipful glow. He was so desperate to please Atlan that he was willing to turn on his own sons, willing to drag me to Atlan, in order to please him so. He would do anything for Atlan and the fear of what Atlan would ask next made my skin crawl.

If Xiphrus could turn so quickly on his family for this creature, what more could he do?

I took deep breathes to calm the panic rising inside me. I quickly rose to my feet, walking around my destroyed quarters to ponder exactly what action could be taken in a situation as delicate as this. Simply going forth and attacking Atlan was not smart; Xiphrus would be furious, and when Xiphrus was furious, he was going to explode.

Geara had once told me that the first attempt at creating Love had nearly split the universe into pieces because its power was so great, so wild and untamed. It was why she struggled so in making her a vessel.

And if Love was ever broken, it would splinter the victims.

And if I were to kill Atlan, Xiphrus would be broken. He would be uncontrollable. A wrathful source that could very likely destroy the universe.

Yet, I could not allow Atlan to continue toying with Xiphrus in this way. Certainly the creature did not love my brother the way my brother loved him. His words, though calmly spoken and said with an honesty that nearly had me desperate to please him, were not right. There was an underlying evil to his words, a sweetness that was far too sweet for my liking.

He was using Xiphrus. For what, I was unsure. Surely it had to do with Atlan's talk of having plans for the universe? And what sort of plans did Atlan have to begin with?

I would need to investigate it further, but every time I drew near Atlan, my mind scrambled. It was as if he were using some kind of magic... Something I'd never considered. But what? I felt nothing, but my emotions backfire and explode in my face whenever I was with him. If anything, I was about to simply blame myself, but could it really be my own emotions? Why had they never run wild like this before?

It had to be Atlan's presence. It had to be.

Suddenly unnerved and feeling overheated inside from the amount of questions that still lingered in my mind, I quickly dressed in my white robes and went downstairs to find Geara, desperately needing her comfort. I landed on the main floor when a strange feeling settled around me. I paused, confused by the sensation, as if someone was attempting to bring calm and peace, much like Geara's, but Geara's was accompanied by playfulness. This sensation was simply relaxing.

Intrigued, I followed the sensation, step by step bringing a strong sense of calm. With it came the soothing scent of warm chamomile and lilacs and honey. It was sweet, but not overpowering. It was gentle, a light note in the air. I rounded a cluster of black columns in the entryway to the family room, pulling up short to see a person I did not recognize standing at the counter.

She was, for lack of better words as no mere words could do the creature justice, gorgeous. She was tall and voluptuous. Wide hips and heavy breasts, long thick curly chestnut brown hair that fell about her shoulders like a wild waterfall. Her eyes were a fascinating shade of hazel-brown with a strip of gold circling her black iris, and her skin a rich shade of olive. She wore a gold gown that appeared to have a life of its own, shimmering and rippling in the chandelier lights, the flared skirt and snug bodice with the sharp dip of the collar that fell between her breasts only further accentuating her beauty.

"Hello?" I asked, surprised by her presence. While we invited the other creatures within the household frequently, not many took it upon themselves to simply walk straight into the family room as most were seeking Geara's counsel and went to the gardens through the main hall.

The creature, who appeared to be fascinated by the chandeliers above, dropped her eyes to stare directly at me. Her full feminine lips tucked at the sides, a display of curiosity before her expression brightened.

"You must be Joxeia. Geara told me to come find you, but I'm afraid I was distracted by the aura of this room. It's so pleasant." Her voice sent a chill through me, but it was certainly not negative. It was just beautiful. Husky and sweet at the same time, intelligent and gentle. I felt as if I should be aroused by it, but instead, I felt an odd impulse to protect her. I saw her not as an object of romantic love or sexual lust, but rather... a child.

"Who are you?" I asked. She blinked for a moment, then started to speak when a male's voice came from behind me.

"Satanika, I could not find-- Oh, never mind. It appears you've found him." I turned instantaneously at the sound of the voice to see a male entering the room behind me. He was as tall as the female, if not taller. He was built lean and wiry, but muscles well sculpted beneath his black robes. His long legs disappeared into a pair of tall buckled boots with what appeared to be sharp blades projecting from the heels. His long black hair fell about his shoulders in sleek shiny locks, a sharp widow's peak spearing his forehead, his eyebrows regal and currently furrowed in a frown, his full lips much like his sister's tipping in at the corners as if he were studying me suspiciously. And where his sister's eyes were rich hazel, his were a cold and analytic shade of gold. Bright like morning sunshine, but intense like the afternoon sun that heated the sand to incredible temperatures.

"Yes," the female said, then quickly slid past me to link her arm with the male, making his expression twist into something quite comical, almost as if he were annoyed by her overly friendly gesture, "We are Starkin and Satanika. We are Hate and Love."

My eyes widened at her disclosure.

Geara had finally done it. She'd created vessels for both Love and Hate-- and both of them were beautiful. They were perfection incarnate. My momentary excitement at their arrival was only sliced when I realized Geara had created two vessels at once, thus probably exhausting her power.

"Geara--"

"She is safe," Starkin replied, making me relax, "She slumbers. We took her to her quarters to rest. She instructed us to seek you and provide comfort." I eyed him warily now, folding my arms slowly over my chest. Geara instructed them to comfort me?

"We felt your distress," Satanika added, releasing Starkin's arm to drift forward, and I watched in surprise as she took my hands in hers and smiled at me, "So did Geara. We won't bother you. It appears our presence is enough to comfort you." I started to object to that and inform her I was still irritated, but despite the lingering sensation in the back of my mind, I did feel oddly better in their presence.

There was a calm and peace emitted from them, both of them, that soothed the inner turmoil that had caused me to destroy my entire quarters just an hour or so before. How strange to find comfort in both Love and in Hate. I expected Hate to be much more wild and uncontrollable, but he appeared surprisingly calm and relaxed. He appeared to be amused now as Satanika gave my hands a squeeze, then retreated a few steps.

"You're both... fascinating," I admitted, and Satanika smiled wider, and Starkin appeared to turn a light shade of pink, quickly averting his eyes, "Have you chosen a place to reside, or has Geara asked that you remain here?"

"We are to remain here until further notice," Satanika responded, "She says it's not safe to wander off alone, which is rather disappointing. I wanted to see the lake. I've only seen what the Source has allowed me to see and while it is beautiful there, I am sure it is more beautiful here. As of course I'm sure you remember, the Source can be quite blind to the real beauty of itself as it sees through a magnifying glass of sterile logic. Meanwhile, those of us with vessels can see the beauty for what it is in our spirits." I stared at her, amazed by her explanation and the fact that she could remember what it was like to see through the eyes of the Source.

It'd been so long that I could no longer imagine seeing the universe as the Source did. It seemed too cold for me. I enjoyed the brilliant colors, the warmth of the sun, the cool breezes, the textures of grass and sand.

"The Source also does not see the ugliness," Starkin spoke up, making me look at him as he cocked his head to pin me with those intense gold eyes, "It sees the building blocks and the structure, but it does not see the true ugliness that permeates the air like a potent poison. It cannot feel the negative emotions chewing away at the beauty of the soul. It can only, as Satanika says, see through its magnifying glass of sterile logic."

"Because the Source is objective," I replied, and they both nodded, "Emotions do not cloud the Source's judgement. It lives by the logic and the analytical mandate it has built for itself, so it cannot play favorites and cannot choose based upon emotions. You both seem quite raw from becoming solid vessels. Your view is so pure." Satanika smiled.

"Yes, it was quite recently we came to this state of existence. It's strange," she added, pausing to look down at her hands, then down at her body before looking up, "I would have expected to be much smaller. Perhaps, more fragile?" Starkin snorted, folding his arms over his chest, giving his sister a pointed look.

"You are one of the most powerful beings in existence. They could not even attempt to disguise that with something weak."

"Tiny does not mean weak. Look at Geara; she is tiny, but certainly not weak. Without her, we would be lost to the Source. We never would have come here to make Joxeia feel better," she added, then smiled at me again and took my hand. She ran her fingers along my own, then laced our hands together and pulled me close so she could touch her cheeks to mine. I was caught off guard by her tenderness, but felt no impulse to push her away.

"I suppose," was all Starkin said as he stood watching. I looked past Satanika to him.

"Should you like to touch my hand as well?" I asked. Starkin hesitated.

"Surely you would not want such a taint upon the comfort Satanika has given you."

"Why would you taint me?"

"I am the embodiment of Hatred," Starkin said with a frown, "I am negativity personified. Hatred is a darkness I wish not to poison you with."

"Touching me should not poison me. Besides, if there was no Hatred, there would be no Love, yes? So you are necessary for balance," I explained. Starkin still appeared hesitant, but he took a few slow steps toward me, but kept space between us, space he closed simply by lifting his arm to reach out and brush my shoulder, as if he were still afraid of getting too close. I reached up and took his hand in mine, and his eyes widened in shock, like he was waiting for me to suddenly go rabid with outrage.

Instead, his touch brought the same sense of calm that Satanika's did. If anything, it intensified the mood and I found myself smiling, the corners of my lips pulling up as I laced my fingers with Starkin's.

"See? You do nothing wrong." Starkin continued to stare at me, then at our hands before he moved closer until he was practically on top of me, his arms moving around my shoulders to pull me close. I was amazed to see how much taller than he was myself, and taller than Satanika, probably about Xiphrus's height. Yet Starkin was much leaner, not heavy in the slightest, and he appeared to find awe in touching me and he rested his head on top of mine.

"You are still not angry?" Starkin asked, his deep baritone voice vibrated my teeth together. I smirked, peering up at him.

"No. Amused, but not angry," I added. Starking blushed furiously, quickly releasing me and folding his arms over his chest.

"Well, thank you. That is enough touching for now."

"If you insist." Starkin appeared embarrassed and quickly turned away to walk into the kitchen, dragging his hands across the sleek surfaces of the countertops and the front of the oven. Satanika, too, released me to follow her brother on his adventure of touching everything in our home to discover its raw feeling to their vessel's form.

I watched them, entranced by their innocence to this whole new universe, fascinated in how well built their vessels were, even taller than my siblings and myself. Powerful, yet a gentle sweetness so much like Geara's.

In a universe that was beginning to spiral into something deadly, they were an odd couple of tranquility we would need to keep this situation from escalating any further. If the other creatures had the same reaction to their presence as I did, surely we would be able to come to some sort of agreement, some way to prevent Atlan from getting out of control, some way for others to clearly see his rising power, and inner rage that was hidden well behind a gleaming trusting smile.

I decided to leave the two siblings to their exploring as they moved to the counsel room. I turned and headed back into the main hall just as Xiphrus was coming in through the front entrance. He was soaking wet from the rain, wore only what he'd worn the night before when I'd caught him with Atlan, and I nearly stumbled at the sight of him.

"Joxeia," he greeted warmly, smiling as he strode over to me. I struggled to move myself, to head up to my quarters. I was unsure what to say to him at the moment, still trying to wrap my head around his relationship with Atlan and the unhealthy state of it. Instead, all I could do was swallow hard and remain still as Xiphrus stood in front of me, forcing me to tilt my head back to stare up at him.

"You look lovely in your robes," he commented, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear, and when I flinched, he frowned, "What's wrong?" I finally unrooted my feet from the floor, taking a step back, clearing my throat and adjusting my robes warily.

"Nothing. Where were you? Geara's worried," I added, knowing it'd snag him from the topic. Xiphrus's eyes widened slightly before he shifted nervously, reaching up to rub the back of his neck before trailing the hand down his chest to rub the center, as if there was an ache he could not soothe.

"My apologies, brother mine. I was with Atlan. We were discussing the investigation of Thia's attacker," he explained. I resisted the urge to say something snarky, something along the lines of oh yes, sucking his cock must tell you everything. I reigned in my calm, giving my head only a slight tilt to indicate I'd heard him and understood, deciding not to speak, else I be tempted to call him out on his lie.

And I think that was what truly irritated me. He was lying to me. There had been no discussion of Thia's attacker last night. It'd been Xiphrus groveling at Atlan's feet and placating his ego. Just thinking about it made me want to cut my fingernails across Xiphrus's chest, where he continued to rub at the space there, as if he were unsure of the pain.

"What ails you, brother?" I asked politely. Xiphrus looked at me, then averted his eyes to the floor. Oh yes, I thought dryly, the floor has all the answers, brother. He couldn't meet my eyes. Kept them locked on the floor, a faraway stare dulling his blue eyes before they flickered back up to meet mine.

"I'm unsure. An ache," Xiphrus murmured, then broke into a smile, dropping his hand so he could come back forward, placing his hands on my arms to give them a squeeze, "I suppose it would be an ache for you as I've yet to greet you properly." I stiffened as his lips came in contact with my forehead, then my nose, my cheeks, and the rest of my face, kiss by kiss. As he did so, I found myself remembering his horrible words from last night.

"Surely you've fantasized of it, have you not?"

"It is only natural... I have considered it."

My skin crawled as Xiphrus placed his lips against mine, and the unsettling sensation only increased when his tongue swept across my bottom lip. Instinctively, I shoved him back and stepped away, watching confusion and surprise flit across his handsome expression.

"Don't do that," I scolded, once again resorting to adjusting my robes to appear not nearly as flustered, "I am in no mood for your attempts to woo me. I am disappointed in your leaving the home last night without a word to Geara. You stress her and she does not have time to worry of your whereabouts when there is a killer out there." Xiphrus blinked a few times, then reached up once again to rub at the center of his chest. I watched the bulge in his throat ride up and down as he swallowed, as if he were choking back something hard, before he spoke in a low voice.

"You never complained of my leaving abruptly before."

"There was never a killer before."

"We're all capable of murder," Xiphrus said with a scowl and I froze at his words, and he stared at me before got this twisted expression on his face, like he was disgusted with my ignorance, "Think yourself above the action, brother? We are all born with the ability to take a life. It is our choice whether or not to act on the impulse. It is, until now, no one has had the impulse to do so."

"And why do you think someone would suddenly gain the impulse to take the life of another?" I demanded, annoyed by his argument and his sudden dark view of the creatures in this world. Since when did he suddenly think so ill of the others? And where was the logic in his philosophy? What would trigger such an impulse in a world where there lay nary a problem?

"I know not," Xiphrus declared abruptly, "I shall not discuss it with you. It would seem you are not nearly as knowledgeable as you claim to be. If anything, brother, you appear to be the less knowledgeable of the three of us. You are naive to have thought the universe could continue without death through the hand of another." I stared at him, my lips parted, but no words coming out, which only furthered Xiphrus's argument of mine being stupid. He did not say the word, but his sugar-coated lecture was transparent, and caused a shot of anger to erupt through my veins. It grew even worse as Xiphrus dismissed me by heading for the stairs.

I whipped around, watching him begin his descent.

"I do not like Atlan!" I barked suddenly. Xiphrus froze on the stairs, hand on the iron railing as he stared straight ahead. Then slowly he turned to pin me with a stare that froze me in place. Those icy blue eyes darkened for a moment, then flashed gold, glowing with menace.

"I beg your pardon?" He demanded. I narrowed my eyes.

"And you shall not have it," I responded, and Xiphrus squeezed the iron railing so tight that it creaked as it dented in under his monstrous fist, "Something about him is not right. His smile is not in his eyes, his voice is too sweet, and his words are manipulative. He says things honestly, but you can smell the animosity of him. He is planning something awful, Xiphrus, and you are how he plans to bring that to fruition." Xiphrus's glare became all the more murderous as he stepped off the stairs, approaching me slowly. I retreated back a few steps, but he only pursued me until I was flat against one of the columns near the entryway, and he was directly in my space.

"You know even less than I thought you did," Xiphrus said, his voice vibrating with a potent hatred that singed my soul, "You are just like the others. You fear Atlan. You fear change. You fear Death and you fear Destruction. Therefore, you fear me. Atlan's plans are not awful. He plans to bring peace before the ruination even begins. He plans to fight the destiny the Source wrongfully sinned him with." My eyes widened and I opened my mouth to call him out on his blasphemy, but suddenly his hand was clamped down across my mouth and his other hand gripped my wrist and flung it up against the column to pin it there.

"I care not for your petty excuses, Joxeia. You will learn to love Atlan as I do. He loves you already, you know," Xiphrus murmured, pausing to stroke the inside of my wrist with his thumb, sending goosebumps flying across my skin, "I told him you were open. I told him you were accepting. And now you are making me appear a liar and that is something Atlan hates the most and I will not let him hate me, do you understand me? I will not let you ruin this for me." He pulled his thumb back from my wrist, and the nail there darkened until it turned black and it elongated another finger's length before he pressed the sharp tip into my wrist.

Pain stung my flesh as a bead of red blood oozed down my wrist and to the floor. I snapped my eyes back up to meet Xiphrus's, widening even more when I realized he'd gotten dangerously close to my face, his fangs lengthening into sharp thick fangs.

The fangs of a beast.

"I prefer you like this," Xiphrus said in a low voice, and his lips brushed over his knuckles, his hand squeezing tight over my mouth, making me grimace, "Silent. As you should remain. Foolish people should never speak, merely obey." He held me there for another moment, and I was too stunned to move, too shocked at his uncharacteristic anger and words.

Xiphrus spoke eloquently, but his words were always open and honest and joyful, even when he was anger, his tone somehow managed to remained optimistic. Now, it was as if there was an entirely different entity inside him. His features suddenly no longer appeared handsome, but wrathful and monstrous. His lips peeled back from his fangs, and his eyes continued to glow such a bright gold that it was beginning to hurt my eyes, drawing tears into the corners.

And abruptly he smiled, which no longer looked carefree and precious, but demonic as he removed his hand from my mouth to brush the tears from my cheeks. He leaned in, pressing his lips to a salty path on my cheek before he stepped back.

"You will learn," he said, this time sounding as if he were speaking to no one in particular, "It will come easier with time. Once you see the changes, you will welcome them with open arms, as you will Atlan. You cannot resist him, Joxeia. I've already seen the way you react to him. The way you enjoy his touching, and I see the way you look at me as well. Should you enjoy that, Joxeia? Will that win you to our side? Taking both of us at the same time? Will you let us fill you deep inside, right up to that silly empty head of yours?"

Crack!

The movement happened so suddenly that I shocked myself, struggled to grasp the situation as my hand curled tight into a fist and flew up, landing hard against Xiphrus's jaw, so hard I felt bone give way beneath my knuckles, felt skin split over his cheekbone. Xiphrus's head snapped back and he stumbled, nearly fell over backwards before he recovered slowly, blinking rapidly and reaching up to touch the bloody gash in his cheekbone, blood oozing onto his fingertips.

He stared at his hand, then looked up at me. I stared back at him, breath leaving my lungs in angry uncontrolled gasps, chest heaving as I lowered my hand to my side. I straightened slowly, then gulped in two huge lungfuls of air before I spoke in a steady voice.

"Your blind devotion disgusts me," I said coldly, watching Xiphrus's eyes flash angrily, "I will not insult a child by comparing you to such. Instead, I can only call you pathetic. I will not fall for Atlan's silly tricks, which includes his pathetic attempts to seduce me. I want no one. I will take no one and no one will take me. Especially not a filthy low born cockroach like Atlan." Xiphrus was panting hard now, rage building up inside him to the point where I was expecting him to implode.

It was as if he couldn't find words to strike back with. He was breathing too hard, and now all his fingernails were stretching into tight long claws, his fangs elongating further until there was no way he could close his mouth at the length of them, not that he had to because all he did was roar and lunge for me.

I stepped back against the column again, sucking in a sharp breath. Just before Xiphrus would've reached me, a spiraling gold column of smoky magic shot down from above and slammed down between Xiphrus and I. The force of magic send heavy blasts of wind to all directions, causing my robes to flutter and smack the air, my hair sweeping back from my face, and Xiphrus went flying back against the staircase.

The moment he made impact, he was normal again. His eyes returned to their pale icy blue, his claws now short fingernails with little nibbles out of them, and his fangs their natural length. He was blinking, looking around bewildered.

"Enough!" Geara's voice caused Xiphrus to flinch, and me to grit my teeth in frustration. We looked up together to see Geara coming down the stairs from the upper level, wearing a long flowing white silk blouse and blue leggings, her gold eyes passionate with anger and confusion.

"I did nothing," Xiphrus spoke up instantly, on his feet the moment Geara reached the third step above him. Geara pinned him with a hard stare.

"Aye, then why is it you wish to defend yourself so promptly?" She demanded. Xiphrus said nothing now, frowning, and Geara turned to look at me. I stared back at her. She moved her eyes back to Xiphrus.

"Why is it you attack your brother? Your flesh and your blood? For simply an infatuation with another creature? You dare put another life form above your own?" She demanded. Xiphrus's eyes widened, and his mouth fell open for a moment, like he was stunned that he was being reprimanded, and when he looked at me and I said nothing, his fury returned and he looked at Geara.

"I have done nothing! I can love another creature as I love my own!"

"What you feel is not love, Xiphrus, it is infatuation--"

"It is not! How can you say such a thing," tears welled up in Xiphrus's eyes, and I struggled to maintain my calm, despite the instinct to rush forward and cease his tears, no matter how angry he made me, "I love him. He is good to me. He treats me as an equal. He has shown me things that you could never begin to dream of. His mind is unique and precious. His intelligence tests mine own. I would sooner rid myself of my own vessel than ever bring him harm. Yet you stand there and you tell me that this is not love?" Geara's eyes flashed, then darkened as she rolled up her fists at her sides, lifting her head as if to look down at him.

"Because it is not," she repeated, watching with a steady calm as Xiphrus's tears fell, "I know love, as I feel it for you and your brother, and I have created her with mine own hands and I have breathed life into her vessel with mine own lungs. She is true and pure and she does not corrupt. She would never make you say the things you said to your brother." Xiphrus's eyes widened slightly and this time, she thrust her chin out and approached Xiphrus, cornering him.

"You think I cannot hear the horrible things you said unto your flesh and blood? You think I am blind to your behavior, deaf to your cruelty? Would you in the past have said the things that you did, taunt him the way you did, had this Atlan not come in and stolen your heart? Nay, you are not as you were, Xiphrus, and you are not in love. I smell manipulation and I smell corruption and I feel death fast approaching if you continue down the destructive path that you have chosen, the path the Source wishes not for you." Her words made Xiphrus tremble, and nearly brought tears to my eyes as I realized the truth in her words.

Xiphrus and I never argued in this way. We never came to blows, never came to this angst that burned holes in our souls. We bickered on occasion, teased one another, wrestled playfully, but never had we come to this. And the thought that Atlan had stirred up such a horrid fight between us nearly brought me to my knees.

I loved Xiphrus.

Damn it, I loved my brother more than anything. He was precious to me. He was the sweet innocence to our triade, the warmth and the excitement and the playfulness. He was the weight of change in my creation and my sister's knowledge. Without him, we were unbalanced.

"I hate this," Xiphrus blurted suddenly, making us frown, "The Source this, the Source that! Why let you an invisible force dictate us as it does?"

"Blasphemy," Geara responded coldly and Xiphrus flinched, "The Source does not dictate us. The Source is not a child playing with dolls, brother mine. The Source is our watchful Creator. They watch over us and they love us when no one else will. They have given us destiny, yes. But it is our choice to follow those destinies, which one to make our own. They give us a blank canvas. It is our duty to decide what to paint. And the reason I repeat it so often is because you clearly have not grasped the concept. And before you speak another word, I would highly suggest you reconsider."

Xiphrus didn't speak now. Just stared at her. I stared at her.

I remembered those words each time she spoke them. I savored them. They were a comfort in the fact that, while we retained our individuality in all things, there was always the Source who would assist us should we need it, love us when we feel no one can. It was what fueled my desire to protect this universe and those who dwell within. It was our purpose to protect and serve those the Source gifted us with.

Without another word, Xiphrus spun around and went up the stairs to his quarters. There was silence before we heard his door slam shut. Geara blinked, then seemed to return to her relaxed pose as she turned to face me. She didn't get a chance to speak as Satanika and Starkin drifted into the room, looking a bit sheepish.

"Sorry for eavesdropping," Satanika said softly, "We were worried."

"He's angry," Starkin added flatly. Geara frowned.

"Aye. What more do you sense in his soul, Starkin?" She asked. Starkin's frown matched Geara's as he studied her face, gold eyes glittering in the light of the chandelier overhead. Beside him, Satanika lowered her eyes, lips pressing into a firm line.

"Hatred," Starkin said after a moment, making me tense, "Coldness. Anger. Potent, all of it. There is darkness within him that is desperate for light, but not the kind of light that can be given through lecture. I know not the light it seeks, for I am not he, but I should hope he finds it soon. The darkness inside him is a plague and it is fast spreading. Soon, it will have infected him entirely and he will not be as you know him. He will become what he was created for."

"Destruction," Satanika whispered. Geara swallowed hard and turned to me. I clenched my teeth as a wave of apprehension crashed through me.

Total destruction.