† Mikhail †
Margrave Maaroi was a hard woman with a stern face and a whipish tongue, known only to offer kindness to her children and family.
Right now Mikhail did not feel like her child.
"You get your ass on that ship and you find that woman immediately!" She hissed through the scrying mirror.
He and his aunt sat in front of an old vanity in a shabby and quaint inn. It was cheap and the attendant had been discreet and not asked for their real names.
"I can not believe that it took the Ipahnish government contacting me to know what the hell was going on with you! I've had your siblings out chasing wheels and kissing oracle ass, and you've been in Ipahn romancing and playing peasant! I don't know why I expected anything else! That demon is wasted on you! And you!!!!" Mikhail swore her finger was going to pop through the mirror the way she jabbed it at his aunt. "I should have known better than to send my negligent spoiled little sister to look after my negligent spoiled little son!!!!"
"Aruora, I didn't-" Amelia raised her hands, tried to defend herself.
"Oh! Put a sock in it Amelia!" The Margrave snapped, green eyes bulging. "We have lost most of Jinin to the Eenoans and I have a dungeon overflowing with religious bigots and insurrectionists! Find that damn weapon and get your asses back to Tellan!"
"IMMEDIATLY!" His mothers red face disappeared as her fist came down and smashed the mirror.
The mirror they sat in front of splintered up the middle with a harrowing crack as the connection severed.
The two gave each other matching guilty grimaces, silence spanning between them, and then busted out laughing.
"She is going to kill you!!!" Amelia snorted.
"I'm her son! I can only imagine what she's going to do to you!"
"AAAHAHAHAHA" The two anxiously sputtered until tears filled their eyes and they were gripping onto one another.
"Phew!" Mikhail wiped at his eyes. "We are in such deep shit."
Amelia sighed, shoulders slumping. "Yeah we are."
"Mom done yelling at you two troublemakers?" Mikhail's older brother, Lucien leaned against the shabby door of the old inn bedroom. Only a couple years younger than Amelia, he possessed the same white blond hair and tanned skin of the Maaroi, but was the most massive among them. Muscles riddled his body, flecked with scars from battle. A large one cut across his lip and ran along his jaw. A smirk played on his mouth, having caught the two laughing.
"Yeah, she broke the scrying mirror." They'd probably receive a charge from the inn for the broken vanity mirror.
Lucien shook his head, "You play a dangerous game little brother. Being the baby is only going to last so long."
Mikhail shrugged. Being the youngest often played out in his favor. Much to the displeasure of his brothers and sisters. "I'll use it 'till I lose it."
"Sure, sure." Lucien rolled his eyes, and kicked off from the door. "The boat is ready now." He scanned the room, searching for the little witch.
"I sent Talis with Samhir and Nimara. I didn't want the Ipahnish thinking she was involved in everything."
Lucien scrunched his face, disappointed. "Damn."
A graceless snort left Amelia's nose. "Good gods, you're almost as bad as Yuen. You'll see her on the ship." Mumbling as she passed, "She must be casting spells on you fools."
"Yuen?" Lucien scowled, entirely ignoring Amelia's comment.
"Competition brother." Mikhail clapped him on the shoulder as he made his way out the door after their aunt. "A prince, so you better step up your game." He wore a devious smirk. He loved the idea of creating enemies for the fae.
"What does a prissy prince have that I, a demonborn warlord, do not?" His chest puffed out at the challenge. Lucien and Mikhail shared their womanizing tendencies, and the pretty little witch had caught Lucien's interests. He even noted that he was surprised Mikhail didn't have Talis already wrapped around one of his arms. But Mikhail's interests had been elsewhere recently.
A strange woman with yellow eyes clouding up his thoughts and dreams these days..
Amelia and Mikhail shared more laughs as the other Maaroi asked more questions about Talis.
They paid for the room and the broken mirror, then made their way to the docks of Ichar.
____________________________________________________________________________
† Samhir †
The older of the Maaroi brothers, Lucien, pulled him on board. Maybe it was the kid's size, respectable attitude, his battle strewn body, or the fact that he simply wasn't pining after his daughter and had lied to him the whole time, but Samhir liked this one more than the other.
"Thanks." He grunted as he landed on his feet and adjusted the bag slung over his shoulder. Inside he had stowed the precious books on cultivation Menia gave him. He'd made extra sure not to get them wet in the transfer from the little dingy to the massive warship.
Nimara jumped up beside him, entirely ignoring the outreached hand Lucien offered. The fae had displayed some very inhuman capabilities and leaping great distances seemed to be one of the more mundane traits on the list.
She stuck close to Samhir as curious looks from crew members stared their way. She still held in place what she referred to as a 'glamour'. A magical cloaking that made her appear human. Except it was hard to come by humans with such otherworldly beauty or superhuman abilities. Even Mikhail and Talis fell short of the ethereal draw she possessed.
Eyes watched her and in return she gave them scowls and sour downturned lips. "I hate the fucking attention." She muttered and Samhir noticed her staring at Talis.
The young witch had been pulled up first by the smitten Lucien, who now was casually chatting with the woman and offering her a tour of his ship.
Mikhail popped up beside them, his strange pet, Elly the waterwolf, at his side. "Jealous?"
Samhir could imagine the fae's long ears pinning back as she flashed rows of serrated teeth at the man in a hiss. But instead it was square teeth revealed in an inhuman snarl.
He was learning that Mikhail, now free from playing pretend, was a mischievous little instigator. He encouraged the fighting between the two women, all the way from Imore until they split up right before arriving in Ichar. Samhir had a lurking suspicion that it was a way of entertainment for the demon that resided in the man.
Before he could stop himself, a hand flashed up and cupped him across the back of his blonde head with a loud smack.
Mikhail looked stunned and eyes all along the deck snapped to the little group as a hush swept through. Even Lucien paused in his flirting.
"Knock that shit off." Samhir snapped.
Mikhail rubbed the back of his head and had the decency to look ashamed. "Yes sir."
The crew silently watched on, mouths agape, and an odd smile had taken the older brother's face.
Samhir, Son of No One, and an Ipahnish peasant in the eyes of those from other lands, had just struck a lord and ambassador. And Lord Mikhail Maaroi not only let it happen, but took no action against it.
"Let me show you to your quarters." Instead he skipped along, inviting Samhir and Nimara further onto the ship.
The crew watched for a moment longer before Lucien cleared his throat. No words were spoken, yet the captain's command was clear and understood. 'Back to work.'
*
Samhir spread out over a single cot, plush with cushions and pillows. The little cabin he'd been given was much more lush than he had expected. Swinging lanterns lit by flame, different and lacking the Ipahnish plasma crystals, flickered in orange glow in ornate iron cages. A worn wooden floor was covered in a hand woven red rug, a simple but solid desk held blank papers, inks, and quills free to his disposal. The far wall framed a small window looking over the calm waters well off the coast of his home.
He watched the land recede for a time, letting the weight of his actions sink in his stomach drawing him into a place he was familiar with. A state of sadness and longing he had long felt, even in the village he'd resided and home he'd built for his family. That very home faded into the distance with the lands of his people.
As he'd journeyed from Imore to Ichar with a cape concealing his identity, he had discovered that images of his daughter were pasted everywhere. Slapped on trees and against the sides of homes. A man hunt had begun, guards looking this way and that, the people even whispering of the strange and scary woman wanted by the state.
Within the coming weeks, it would be discovered that he had left and his picture would be plastered alongside hers.
A tear leaked from his eye, as they seemed to do these days despite his will to not weep. Samhir scratched at his throat, stubble itching, as he wallowed in his mind no longer feeling in control.
Control had always been a very precarious concept to him. The way in which he labored to maintain it. Always an act to perform, a service to provide, day in and day out. A bottle of liquor in one hand and a chore in the other.
But now, as Ipahn faded into the distance while the lamps creaked on their chains with the travel of the warship, there were no tasks to complete to earn his forgiveness and his daughter's acceptance.
For now, perhaps forever more, his home would sit without either of their presence inside. Only the items of their lives left behind. The remnants and pieces of his tinkering littering the floors and tables. Kohryn's drafting table still tacked with half finished plans for embroidery, and her bed unmade.
He huffed. The last time either of them had ever made their beds was the morning Ama left.
It had been a painful revelation, slowly acknowledged, at just how much his wife had kept their lives orderly. Always making sure the house was kept tidy. She'd nag him when his inventions ventured outside the little aviary where his workshop had resided. She'd hound Kohryn and force their rambunctious child, who Ama said was identical to him in looks and personality, to bathe and brush her teeth. She implemented bed times and made sure meals were made and her family was healthy.
And once she was gone, their lives hadn't necessarily fallen apart, yet the new quiet and the lack of uniformity had steadily degraded their home.
His eyes burned at the threat of more tears, but thankfully a knock on the cabin door drew him from his pity.
"Samhir." Mikhail called out and the door creaked open. "Our presence has been requested."
Samhir lifted an eyebrow and scowled. His favorite way to look at the demonborn Tellan welp.
"A falcon has returned with news on the Eenoans. It's believed that Kohryn has been spotted."
He was on his feet in an instant. Steady strides carried him across the room and through hallways as he followed Mikhail into a large room in the central hull of the ship. A long table was strewn with maps of land and sea, pinned through with flags and the occasional dagger.
The great continent was marked up with many flags and a dagged, very obviously slammed into the wood of the table in the central area of the Eastern Provinces. Evidence of the conflicts being fought in the region.
"Ah welcome in." Lucien waved the two in. Beside him was a older man, with rusted and silver hair and a beard braided over his chest. Lucien gestured to some chairs. "Please have a seat, Mr…"
"Samhir is fine." He plopped down into the chair offered. "The Ipahnish don't carry titles; only lineage identifiers and mine doesn't matter."
"I like you Samhir!" Lucien smiled, and Samhir saw even more of the semblance between him and Mikhail. They possessed the same sharp canines, the pull of the cheek, and dipping fold in the corner of the mouth. "It was a shock to see someone smack my spoiled brat of a brother."
Samhir cracked a smile of his own wondering if all the Maaroi children looked so alike- even Amelia, their aunt, had a striking similarity. Apparently there were four of them.
He'd experienced very few individuals who had siblings. It was simply not typical for humans to have more than one child a life time. Infact in was rather rare. In Ipahn, closer to the waste, only ten in every hundred couples might have one, and one in every hundred might have two. In Seval and The Great Continent twentyfive or so couples would have one and less even more. Having not two children but four was incredibly rare, and he'd only heard tales of such stories in wealthy families.
"Nobody ever smacks him, but he damn sure needs it." The older brother took a fake swing at the younger. Mikhail flinched before kicking out at the man. Where Lucian had held his punch, Mikhail aimed to connect.
Lucien smoothly slid out of the way of the attack with an goodnature laugh, "Aye! Sit down."
Mikhail sucked his teeth, yet slunk into the seat next to Samhir. "What's going on?"
"We just received a report from intelligence. It appears that Illowen was burned to the ground."
"And? Isn't a good thing that one of the Eenoans torture chambers was destroyed?"
Lucien gave Mikhail a dirty look and Samhir let out a tsk. He wondered if brothers were often so snarky or if this was something unique to the Maaroi. Elder Ulias and his brother Kshar seemed to have a very pleasant relationship. Did that only come with age?
"Yes. It wasn't one of ours-"
"So what does that have to do with us?"
"Let him get to the damn point." Samhir snapped. He was already uneasy, a sinking feeling gathering in his chest.
Lucien let out an amused huff and instead turned his attention to Samhir. "Like I said, it wasn't one of ours but intelligence suggests that it was your daughter's doing."
"Kohryn?" The hairs on Samhir's body raised.
Lucien brought forth a drawing, handed it to Samhir. On the page was a charcoal depiction of Kohryn, a man, and a fae. "The three of them were spotted fleeing the prison together."
The two other beings faded from his vision as he took in the state of his daughter. She'd always appeared a little wild. Sharp in features and pale. But in this drawing her cheeks were hollow, her hair grown past her shoulders, and her eyes large and feral. She was starving and crazed. And yet a guilty relief filled him. She'd escaped wherever she'd been held and now they had a solid direction to travel in.