The sky is beautifully awash with an array of oranges, reds, and violets as the sun sinks below the mountain range. The vibrant hues clash grandly with the stark, snow capped mountains as the world above seems to boast of its radiance to the crisp land that slumbers below. It's breathtaking, but the splendor of twilight only amplifies the trepidation that froths in Caelum's stomach.

Cullen will be here soon.

He's just another commanding officer. I'll treat him the same as I would anyone else.

The vow goes ignored as his knee maintains its anxious bouncing, the itch on his palms doesn't wane, the tremble in his arms doesn't lessen, his heart continues to ache, feeling heavier than it should as it stumbles around in his chest.

The anxiety is a familiar presence in his mind by now, a beast that tormented and cowed him throughout his childhood. It has been chained for some time, shackled by cold regime and unmerciful discipline. The captain thought he'd grown stronger than it, but now as it tramples over his mind just as powerful as he remembers, he senses the terrifying realization that he may have failed to leave the weak little boy behind when he became a man. He can't leave him behind, not completely. He has always looked weak next to Cullen. The years move forward but they don't change. Cullen has always had the power to unchain the beast.

Caelum closes his eyes and steels himself to hold back the nausea that slithers up his throat as his hollow gut continuously rolls over itself.

Breathe. You're not sick. Just breathe. It'll be fine. Everything is different now. I'm still their captain. I have respect. I've earned that respect. He will see that, he'll have to. He can't take that from me. How long has he been a commander? Kirkwall… Kinloch Hold… he must be different now too.

A small voice from a hushed corner of his mind, muffled beneath the beasts rampage, snakes its way through.

Thank the Maker he's okay.

A nudge against his knee snaps him out of his musing and as he looks up to notice Isaac regarding him quizzically he realizes that he's been blankly staring at his sword across his lap, lost in thought, for the past several minutes.

Looking away from his friend without a word, he silently resumes sharpening, running the stone over the blade in even strokes, smoothing out the damage that he recklessly beat into it.

That was smart. A sword versus a massive, firmly fixed tree. Very smart, Caelum.

Caelum feels a delayed burst of embarrassment at his tantrum, thankful that Isaac was the only one to witness it.

Isaac has been a constant presence at his side as they wait for the Commander's arrival. The witty soldier kept up his usual brand of jokes and banter, but Caelum can see that he's worried. Now they quietly sit next to each other sharing the warmth of the fire, tending to their blades, smelling the slow-cooking stew that Miss Bennett is preparing for dinner and keeping an eye on the mountain path that Cullen and his party are sure to travel.

They don't have to wait long. A flurry of nervous energy swirls through Caelum's chest as one of his Templars comes into view over the slope of the path with a look on his face that clearly bears news. He already knows what's coming.

"Captain, the Commander and his party are in sight."

Caelum only nods before dropping his gaze back to his lap and taking his time wiping down his sword. He only needs a moment to collect himself. With the weightlessness of his head — the dizziness that blurs his vision and encumbers his feet — he knows if he stands now he'll surely tip over. Leaning into the fire's light, he turns the sword over in his hands, ensuring that the blade is smooth and free of scratches while he takes time to ground himself and lock down his mind. He can feel the soldier standing over his shoulder, watching him and waiting for orders; it agitates his already frayed nerves.

I don't know what to tell him. I don't even know what to do with myself.

Sharing a fortifying look with Isaac, he gathers the will to sheathe his sword and pull himself to his feet, hoping that he appears more poised than he feels. It turns out to be a useless endeavor as the first few steps toward the mountain path are enough to drive his body further into its panic. His stomach grows tighter with each step closer that exposes more of the open, mountain landscape. He wants to turn back. He doesn't want to reach the end where his identity will be laid out and crushed beneath Cullen's heel.

He probably won't even recognize me. Maker only knows if I'll recognize him. What will he see when he looks at me? What will he say? It doesn't matter. I have nothing to say to him.

As he reaches the curve of the slope and the alpine view opens up before him, his eyes immediately take in the small group of men hiking toward him, but his attention as well as his breath is wholly captured by the unmistakable blonde hair leading the march; blonde hair that is a mirror image of the pale curls that rest atop his own head.

The rush of his pulse is spurred impossibly faster, the blood moving so rapidly through his veins that he fears they'll rupture. The ache that settles in his limbs and the sting of the icy sweat over his skin nearly draws a whimper from his lips as he feels his heart turning to stone and hammering against his chest so painfully that he swears it'll bruise.

As Cullen comes nearer and the shadow of a beard marred by the pale scar cutting across his lip becomes clearer, Caelum nearly buckles as he sees his world that he has painstakingly constructed start to collapse.

It's all over. Everything I've done means nothing. They'll look to Cullen now. They'll follow Cullen now. They'll respect Cullen now. Cullen. Cullen. Cullen. What's left for me? What am I? All they'll see is that I'm not Cullen.

He can't handle it. As everything falls apart around him with each step Cullen takes, he questions if he was ever strong. At this moment, he doesn't know if he's a boy or if he's a man. Is he a baby brother or is he a Knight-Captain? Has he been fooling himself all this time? Was his merit real or did it only appear that way in the absence of Cullen?

He can hear himself breathing erratically, the air rushing in and out of him in short, irregular bursts. He can feel the sway of his body as the world spins around him. Shutting his eyes for a moment, he counts evenly, willing his breathing to match it.

One… breathe. Two… breathe. Three… breathe... Four...breathe. Five—

A sharp tug of his elbow from behind forces his eyes open. Just barely out of arm's reach, Cullen stands off center like he stopped mid-stride and recoiled back, and gapes wordlessly at his estranged brother.

Caelum's body betrays him as every muscle locks up, his tongue, dry and stuck to the roof of his mouth, blocks his attempts to form words and forces him to stand uselessly and watch the fiery eyes of the commander flit about his person, taking in every outward detail that makes him Caelum Rutherford: the deep green hues of his eyes, the warm golden tones of his hair, the matching jagged scar that runs down his lip, another before his ear that is just barely visible to those that know where to look, all evidence of the boy Cullen once knew and the adventurous childhood they shared.

Muscles trembling, stomach twisting, and throat quickly growing tighter, Caelum's system is flooded with dread and adrenaline in equal parts as he witnesses the exact moment that Cullen chokes on his breath as striking clarity slams into him.

They're both trapped in each other's gaze, amber locked onto emerald, taking no notice of the confused stares of the men around them. Cullen is the first to break free, taking a step toward his brother; the movement releases Caelum as he instinctively takes half a step back, shaking his head numbly as his mouth moves fruitlessly around his tongue, trying to speak, trying to regain the stern professionalism that has gotten him so far.

Cullen persists though, taking another step forward and speaking at last in breathless, fragmented words, "Ca—Caelum...Cal…"

So sudden it causes both Rutherford men to flinch, Isaac steps up to his friend's side and commandeers the strained reunion.

"Captain Caelum," Isaac cuts in firmly, his face empty and not revealing a hint of his jovial personality, "and the rest of us here have been awaiting your arrival, Commander. It's a relief that you all made it here before nightfall. We almost started to worry."

"Captain…?" Cullen's face twists in blatant confusion, obviously still trying to process the fact that this man is the little boy he left behind all those years ago. He looks to the ground as if the prints in the snow will let him retrace his steps and reveal how his gawking baby brother became a soldier.

Isaac takes the opportunity to duck back respectfully, giving Caelum an encouraging nod as he retreats back to his position hovering just behind his shoulder. Glancing back to silently send Isaac his thanks, his eyes scan over the faces of the Templars under his watch and the crowd of refugees under his care, and he feels his resolve start to put itself back together.

Locking away his emotions, straightening his spine and forcing the steel back into his eyes, he addresses Cullen like a captain.

"Yes, I'm Knight-Captain Caelum and this," he waves an arm back, "is my Knight-Lieutenant Isaac. As he said, we've been looking forward to your arrival. We're all proud to have the opportunity to help in restoring order and we're prepared to assist in any way we can. Now, I know the journey here must have been difficult and we clearly can't set out again until morning so, please, enjoy a meal. Warm up by the fire."

He trails off hesitantly when the shock and confusion on Cullen's face give way to sorrow, and Caelum feels the quiet hum of longing as he remember a time when nothing but love and excitement shone in those eyes.

"Also, Cullen it's…" the words come out on their own volition and he struggles to keep up and string them together, unsure if he even has the true desire to complete them, but in spite of all the rage and resentment the thought of his brother's name being among the dead is enough to push the acid of his stomach up to his throat and the words out, "I'm glad to see you."

He tries to make sense of the myriad of emotions that flash across Cullen's face; a flicker of something that Caelum has never seen before in those eyes glows faintly, before the Commander gives a stiff nod and reaches out to grasp Caelum's forearm in a gesture that they must have done a thousand times with their comrades, and gives it a firm shake.

"I am glad to see you too."

Cullen's voice is tight and controlled, but Caelum can hear the steadfast warmth that simmers just below the surface of his restraint. His eyes stern but still fond, like the hardened caramel that Mia would sneak into their coat pockets every winter.

After a beat of thick silence, Cullen pointedly clears his throat and lets his vision wander beyond Caelum's rigid shoulders to sweep across the group of men standing at attention behind him.

"We are certainly grateful to have you all with us. Standing together, I have no doubt that we can triumph over whatever is upon us." Shifting his gaze back to his brother, Cullen dips his head and tugs his mouth up in a soft smile that almost staggers Caelum with how much nostalgia it brings.

"And I thank you for the thoughtfulness; a warm meal would be wonderful. After though, I would need a moment of your time. There is much to discuss… Captain."

Caelum only nods in acceptance, suddenly exhausted from too many thoughts and emotions clashing together in his mind, and pivots around, the movement signaling his men to break apart and clear the path, and gestures Cullen and his party onward.

The energy is palpable as they march through the center of camp. Caelum made sure to have everyone eat beforehand to avoid crowding the newcomers but the anxious refugees still linger around their tents, inching closer until they're hovering just outside of the glow of the fire, hungry for scraps of news.

Miss Bennett, fastidiously watching over her cooking as always, smiles kindly up at them as they approach and dishes out generous helpings to each of the guests as they tiredly drop around the pit, all releasing sighs and groans of relief of being off of their feet and languid mumbles of thanks as they take their bowls.

Caelum has to resist the urge to roll his eyes as Cullen remains standing, indecision written all over his face as he debates between taking the empty seat right beside him or crossing the pit and shoving himself into a spot next to his brother. His shoulders sag as he eventually concedes and settles in across the fire when Miss Bennett raises a bowl at him encouragingly,

"You must be the commander we've been hearin' about all day. Maker knows it couldn't of been easy gettin' here. Sit down, Commander, and have some supper."

"Thank you, ma'am, and please, there is no need for titles right now, just call me Cullen."

"Oh, none of that 'ma'am' nonsense. My name is Ruth."

"Well then, thank you, Ruth. It looks delicious."

"You're a flatterer, aren't you, Cullen? I know nug stew isn't makin' anyone's mouth water."

"When you have been marching through this blighted winter all day, any warm meal is mouth watering, I assure you."

Caelum feels the tip of that barbed spike of bitterness prod at his chest as he watches Cullen and Miss Bennett smile, tittering back and forth and comfortably trade pleasantries like they're a pair of old neighbors.

The sound of their chatter must have drawn the loitering refugees nearer because they're suddenly boxed in by the restless crowd. Just as the thought of dispersing them makes its way to Caelum's mind, Cullen sets his bowl aside and gets to his feet to address the group.

"Good evening to all of you, I am Commander Cullen. You might have heard that I would be coming here today to assist in moving you all to another more secure location. This is correct. We have a base camp where all of the displaced citizens affected by this tragedy are gathering while we sort this out. When it is deemed safe, you will be moved again. There is a village, Haven, that has agreed to open their doors to all of you. You will all be safe there." Cullen pauses as a murmur passes through the crowd and a spiteful part of Caelum hopes that the crowd will protest, that they'll descend on Cullen with shouted complaints and criticisms, but they quiet down as Cullen speaks again.

"The base camp is quite a walk from here so we need to leave at first light. Everyone, please, make sure you have all of your belongings packed and ready to move to avoid any delay tomorrow."

Caelum bites his lip to keep himself from leaping out of his seat to interrupt.

They are packed! They are ready! How incompetent does he think I am? Does he think I've just been here sitting on my hands, waiting for him to show up and think for us?

The moment there's a gap in Cullen's address the questions start firing from all sides.

"What about the demons?"

"What about the mages?"

"How many others are there? What if they run out of room?"

"Will Haven expect compensation from us?"

"When you say 'first light' do you mean that literally? We have to get up at dawn?"

Somehow, Cullen calms them with a placating smile and a wave of his arms.

"Please, please, everyone. I hear all of you. I know it is daunting, going into the unknown, but I give you my word: we are here to ensure that each and every one of you makes it through this. No one is getting left behind. We came here today to grant protection to all of you and that is exactly what we are going to do."

Beneath a chorus of relieved exclamations of "thank you" and "bless the Maker," Caelum watches the smoke curl away from the fire, ambitiously reaching toward the stars, before dissipating uselessly just like all of his worth and he tells himself that he doesn't feel any pain when no one looks to him for answers or reassurance anymore. It's an aching reminder that despite how passionately he tried to escape the bonds of inferiority and how far he's come, this trench of dismissal and indifference will always be his home.

Still, he can't keep his teeth from gritting and his nails from cutting into his palms beneath his clenched fists every time he sees Cullen's easy smile shine through the reaching smoke.

"Does he think I'm an idiot? I mean honestly, why would he feel the need to tell us to pack our belongings? He thinks I'm incompetent enough to wait until the last minute to get everything in order? Of course everything is packed! We've been ready for hours—"

"—Come on, it wasn't—"

"—We've been managing just fine without him, better than fine, actually. He struts in here draped in that gaudy fur— what is that about, anyway? Just so we all know how important he is, no doubt—"

"—Didn't you think it was a good idea to get some wolf furs just yester—"

"—He doesn't need to stand there stating the obvious. I know what I'm doing. I'm at least intelligent enough to have some common sense. Tomorrow is he going to make sure that we know to put one foot in front of the other too?"

Caelum has kept his rant going strong, smashing right through all of Isaac's light hearted attempts to cut in, for the full ten minutes that they've been traipsing through the forest under the guise of scanning the area of predators and he doesn't plan on running out of steam any time soon.

"Hey, hey, stop for a second. You keep working yourself up and you'll never get any sleep tonight," Isaac tugs at his arm, forcing the affronted captain to twist around and regard the wide brown eyes that look a little too innocent to be genuine.

"Look, Caelum… you're my best friend, you know I love you, so don't stab me after I say this… maybe you're overreacting a little —a little! I just mean, I don't think he was trying to imply that you're inept. You might be blowing it out of proportion."

Caelum sets a heated glare on his friend, feeling the annoyance build as Isaac finishes with an over exaggerated shrug of his shoulders.

"You don't understand. It's always been like this. You don't know what it was like growing up with him and having everyone just… just… accept that he was great. And I guess there's only room for one great Rutherford man because everyone, even Cullen himself, expected me to stay down, stay in my place, and out of Cullen's way as he… forget it. Nevermind. We should get back."

"No, don't end it there." Isaac reaches out to grab him again but Caelum is already weaving around him and purposefully heading back towards camp, walking as quickly as he can without breaking his attempt at nonchalance. Isaac walks right on his heels, keeping pace with his temperamental friend.

"Caelum wait. Caelum. Come on, you know you can't ignore me, Caelum... Cal… Cally… Cally-Wacker… Cally-Cakes… Cally-Love-Lumps… Cal—"

"Maker! Are you aware of how annoying you are?"

"... well, you have a big head. Just listen for a minute. I'm not saying that you're wrong for however you're feeling. Just… try not to read into it so much. We're with him whether we like it or not, he's our commander. He's going to be giving orders and we're going to be following them. I'm gonna have your back no matter what, but I don't want to see you drive yourself mad over perceived insults. There's bigger things to worry about right now."

Releasing a deep sigh, wanting to lay right there on the forest floor and sleep until the whole thing is over, Caelum can't deny the truth of Isaac's words.

"I know. I know I can't afford to let this get to me so much. It's just been so long since I've been under his shadow, I'm just… having trouble getting used to it again, I guess."

Isaac snorts at that, rolling his eyes and roughly cuffing the side of Caelum's head.

"Shut up. You under his shadow? Cal, I'm still waiting to see if he measures up to you."

Cullen has been trying — and failing — to inconspicuously trail behind Caelum as he does his nightly rounds. With every glance over his shoulder, there is Cullen standing a few paces back pretending to inspect a tent rope or fix something on his glove, at one point intently examining a tree trunk; it would be funny if it weren't grating on Caelum's already frayed nerves.

I suppose I should just get it over with.

Spotting Baris emerging from his tent pulling his gloves on and gearing up for his round of night watch, Caelum intercepts the young volunteer before he gets too far.

"Baris. Go ahead and get a few extra hours of sleep, I'll take your watch tonight."

Baris, walking a little taller now but still as jittery as the first time he approached the captain, fixes those doe eyes on Caelum warily like he's not quite sure if he's being tested or not.

"Eh… oh. You sure? Right. Yeah. Okay. If you say so. Thanks, Captain. Thank you. Right well... g'night then, Ser."

Once Baris scampers back into his tent, Caelum impassively calls over his shoulder, "Care to join me, Commander? We can talk. I'm afraid there isn't much privacy here at camp."

"Oh!" he hears Cullen's footsteps quicken until he sidles up next to him wearing a deep blush that's visible even in the dim moonlight, "I was just... having a look around. You have a good camp here… it's well-ordered..."

Caelum only grunts in acknowledgement, leading Cullen to the outskirts of the sleeping campground before launching straight into business before Cullen has a chance to speak.

"We have a large group, as I'm sure you've noticed, moving them will be difficult. How far is this forward camp?"

Cullen's disappointment in the stiff, professional tone is apparent in the drop of his shoulders, but he doesn't resist and let's a conversation between a captain and commander take over.

"At least a day's fast walk from here. If we leave at daybreak and keep a swift pace, we should arrive before nightfall. Can they endure a day of walking? Are there any sick, injured, or elderly?"

"No sick or injured, no. There are a few elderly though, and a number of small children. They'll need a rest."

Cullen shakes his head at that, staying silent in thought for a moment before decisively rejecting the suggestion.

"That will not do. We need to cross too much distance. If we stop we would end up traveling into the night. It is too dangerous, especially with a group this large and we cannot waste a night making another camp. It is certainly not ideal, but we will have to push them. We cannot lose any time. The prisoner could wake at any moment."

Caelum grits his teeth at that, wanting to argue just for the sake of defying him, but he bites his tongue and remembers his place. He's a Knight-Captain, not a little brother.

"By your orders, Commander."

Cullen looks at him with an unexpected flash of emotion, something brittle and despondent and so unfamiliar on his face that Caelum has trouble grasping it, but it spawns a throb in his chest, nonetheless. Before he can turn it over in his mind, Cullen presses on.

"What of your defenses? Who else protects all of these people?"

"The only trained soldiers that we have are me, Knight-Lieutenant Isaac, and two other experienced Templars. The rest are still recruits and a handful of brave volunteers."

Eyebrows creasing into a squint and mouth tugging into a flat line, Cullen does nothing to mask his disbelief while Caelum does everything to mask the blaze of irritation it sparks.

"These people are being protected by recruits and volunteers?"

Bristling at the criticism he hears in the tone, a coil of indignation wraps tight around his chest as he chokes down the curse filled diatribe that threatens to discharge.

"We're not in a position to be turning away arms. Every person that was willing to fight and protect their neighbors was another life spared. They've more than proven themselves and they are a large part of why we were able to save so many. Seeker Pentaghast said we're the largest group of survivors she's seen yet; that means we've done something right."

He doesn't quite manage to keep the bite out of his tone as Cullen's shoulders curl in, shrinking him down and conveying his desire to avoid provoking the sensitive captain.

"It was not my intention to insinuate anything. I trust you. I just… It is not often that people are willing to put themselves in harm's way and just… seeing how they stood behind you this evening, the fact that they have done that of their own accord, no oaths, no duty. I am… proud of what you have done here.

Caelum works to keep his face blank as rousing gratification and bitter vexation war for dominance in his mind.

I don't care. I don't need his approval. I don't care.

The pleasant flutter in his belly is beyond his control, however, despite how much anger it invokes. He hates himself for caring. He hates that the part of himself that should have died long ago— he'd done everything he could to kill it— that yearns to be someone that his brother looks to as an equal still lives.

He fights to keep the warmth he's ignoring from slipping into his voice.

"Thank you, Commander."

Cullen heaves a sigh and turns away, leaning a closed fist against a tree and running a hand roughly through his hair. Caelum can see that his face is pinched in frustration and the muscles of his jaw shift faintly as his restraint breaks and he whirls back around to finally talk to his brother.

"Can we please stop pretending that this is standard, that we are just basic comrades? I worried that I would never see you again."

"Would that have mattered?"

Although barely whispered over the brisk wind of the mountains, the question carries with it enough force to stagger the valorous commander as he lurches back and gapes at his sibling with a deep, wounded stare.

"Yes! Yes, of course it would matter!"

Unable to face the conviction in those eyes and the certitude in that tone, it's Caelum that turns away now and roots his gaze to the sparse plants that manage to endure the snowfall, suddenly missing home and his sanctuary in the hills.

Behind him, Cullen continues softly, "I—I know our relationship is… damaged. I cannot deny that, but you are my brother, that will always be true and it will always mean something. You will always matter to me."

Caelum is suddenly so tired. The exhaustion dribbles from his wearied mind and seeps into every joint and muscle. He wants nothing more at this moment than to go back to his tent, shut his eyes and block out the the tangled medley of relief, resentment, comfort and hostility that have been endlessly tumbling over each other since the Seeker first spoke Cullen's name.

Body and soul both pleading for rest, he turns back to connect to golden, impassioned eyes and speaks with as much truth as he can manage.

"I just want to do my duty, Cullen," he loathes the waver in his voice, the tightness of his throat and the sting in his eyes, "I don't want to have conflict with you, I don't have the energy. Not now. I just… I need to focus on what matters right now. Those people are what matter right now. I can't think about this," he finishes, gesturing back and forth between himself and Cullen and praying that it'll be enough for tonight.

A sigh deflates his body when Cullen surges forward unrelentingly, his tone taking on a frenzied edge as he desperately tries to pull answers from his evasive brother.

"What is there to think about? I know we fought. I know we—I said awful things, things I regret and I am still ashamed of, but we can fix it. Can we not try?"

Shaking his head vehemently, Caelum stumbled over his thoughts, at a loss for how to make Cullen see that this conversation will lead to nowhere, "it's not that. That was just another piece of it… like I said, I don't have the energy. Talking isn't going to change anything. You don't understand—"

"—Help me then. Help me understand. Please, Caelum, I want to try."

Dragging a hand across his face to scrub away the fatigue that settles under his skin, desolation bleeds from his tongue as he fights to bring this conversation to an end.

"It's not something that you can understand, Cullen, because even after all this time, you're still you and I'm still me, nothing will change that."

Beneath the rustling of the branches in the wind above them, a silence stretches between the eldest and youngest Rutherford brothers. Caelum hesitates, watching and expecting Cullen to interrupt but he appears restrained, arms tight against his sides and jaw firmly clenched shut, waiting for more. The clear dejection dripping from Cullen's posture has guilt twirling listlessly in Caelum's chest. He has no desire to hurt his brother. Exhaling heavily, he proceeds as openly as he can.

"You're right; we are brothers. I don't need to feel like your brother right now though, we need to just be comrades. You're the commander, I'm the captain. Let's just focus on those roles. Please."

The pain still swims in Cullen's eyes, the doubt still written across his frown, the questions still weighing down his shoulders, but he concedes with one short, precise dip of his head.

"Okay… okay, Captain."

Finally alone again, lying in his tent after being relieved by the next guard, Caelum's mind compulsively turns over every moment with Cullen despite the deep exhaustion that tries to force him into submission. Sitting up with a frustrated growl, he grabs his pack of supplies, shoves all of his bedding out of the way, and pulls back the flap of his tent to let the moonlight spill in. Talking to his sister has never failed to calm his thundering anxiety, even when land, time, duty, and war separates them.

Dear Mia,

I don't want to alarm you, but I'm afraid I may be losing my mind. So much is happening so quickly and I feel like everytime I gain my footing, something just has to come out of nowhere and knock me over again. Cullen is here with me. He just showed up today, he's our new commander as luck would have it. Luck has never been kind to me has it? I know all of you will be overjoyed to know that he's ok, especially since he doesn't bother to write to any of you. I'm happy too. I would never wish for any harm to come to him, but I'm struggling Mia. So many have lost people they love, I should be grateful that I still have each of you and I am, I swear it! I just feel like I'm still losing something. I'm losing everything I've worked for. I can't go back to being the pathetic little brother that isn't worth the dirt at Cullen's feet. It'll destroy me. There's something different about him though, I don't know if I can explain it. I miss you. I miss all of you. Please stay safe. Not just from the demons, people are fighting and killing each other everywhere. Please stay far away from all of it, I couldn't lose you. You still remember how to swing a sword right? The pointy end goes toward the enemies. I'm staying alert to any news about Honnleath, if the fighting gets too close, I'll be there. I promise. I love you. Tell Bran and Rosie I love them.

Your brother,

Caelum

Folded and tucking it carefully into a pouch alongside a stack of other letters that he hasn't gotten the chance to send yet, he lays back and sends a silent 'thank you' to Mia when his mind remains quiet. Throwing blankets back over his drained body, sinking into the warmth and memories of home, Caelum is at last greeted by sleep.