A/N: *coughs awkwardly* Oh man guys I AM SO SORRY. I... completely spaced on crossposting my updates? So I'm going to post one chapter a day until I get to the current chapter of 15 - so there should be daily updates for the next 5 days, and then you'll be caught up with AO3. If you read my stuff on AO3 there's no new content from that, just me, finally not failing at absolutely everything. Ugh I am SO SORRY.

Anyway. ENJOY!


Kir watched as Kari Jumped from one pew to another, curls of fire only just starting to warm the wood which was intriguing, seeing as this had been going on for at least a mark. When they had stumbled out of Kari's Jump yesterday he had been on edge, but not to the point an inadvertent firestorm should have started. He suspected that he'd been aggravating the surrounding air and buzzes to the point that the side-affect flames of Kari's Jump had been enough to trigger a cascading reaction. Between the surprise of the sudden firestorm and his already present distress, he hadn't been able or even willing to immediately crush the flames, instead focusing on protecting himself and Anur and just -

Letting things burn.

He might have to lock himself in the Trial room for a few marks at this point, he could still feel the world's pitches fluctuating around him as his control shifted once again. Working with Kari those short weeks ago had been a good distraction and something valuable in and of itself, but it made these heat-shimmer flames far too easy to trigger.

He hadn't honestly realized the golden sheets of flame skittering across his skin and the ground were actually there. He had been half convinced he was hallucinating or flickering between mage-sight and normal vision until Anur commented on them. No one had been harmed, and once he started paying attention he could detect the instabilities his talent was taking advantage of and avoid igniting them but it required far more conscious thought to restrain those flames than he'd needed in well over ten years.

Anur's utter lack of fear or even trepidation in the face of random fires was an incredible gift, and he needed to remain worthy of it. Burning his brother was – it could not happen. He could not let it happen, ever.

So, he trained. Not that it was a burden, to work with fire – particularly not here, with no audience and no goal besides what he chose.

Judging by the cackles of glee and occasional whinnies, Anur and Aelius were having a grand time figuring out how far he could push his line-of-sight Fetching. Riva wasn't vocal, but last Kir had checked his gelding had been sprawled on a particularly soft patch of grass, dozing in the sunlight. Which was odd in and of itself given the new location and less than relaxing antics going on nearby. He was hoping to get an excuse to stop by the trainers he had purchased him from in the first place just so the gelding could be checked out – he was fairly certain Riva was fine, but he didn't want to risk one of his oldest friends needlessly.

He wanted to know if Riva's bloodlines had any hint of this longevity or if it was his horse alone.

"When you step into the astral planes, is there any energy dispersed into those realms as waste or is it only the fire we see here that is extra?" Kir asked, Kari tilting his head and Anur's voice entered his mind. They hadn't risked mindspeaking again until this morning, and the sheer relief he felt when he'd heard Anur's mental voice without any of the discomfort of yesterday was absurd, looking back to the horror he had once viewed any sort of mindspeech with.

Anur had declared immediately that they wouldn't try anyone else's voice until another day had passed, and though Kir had wanted to object, he hadn't quite been able to bring himself to. Aelius' voice had burned.

:Kari says the latter, whatever that was.:

"Fascinating," Kir murmured, eyes narrowing, "Is it possible for you to direct those flames? To have them focus on a particular patch of ground nearby or attack someone you are escaping from? Or are they entirely undirected?"

Kari's ears flattened against his skull for a moment before shaking it off and looking particularly thoughtful. Either the answer was complicated or he'd never considered the idea before and was thinking over the possibility.

Rather than reply via Anur, Kari instead took on a look of intense focus before he pounced forward, fire whirling around him in something a little more directed than his usual flares, and he continued that a few more times, fire curling around him in streamers before Kari finally truly Jumped -

Kir immediately swore, lunging forward and catching the sudden burst of white-hot flame into a hurried twist, devouring particles in the air around him before he was able to call it back to his hands and quench it entirely. Aelius stuck his head in the door, Anur on his back and leaning forward to look in himself, saying dubiously, "Was that supposed to happen?"

Kari stood and shook himself from where he'd ended up behind a knocked over and seared pew, giving Anur a withering look that only made the Herald laugh along with whatever Kari had said.

"He says the unplanned nature of the incident should be quite obvious," Anur relayed, Kir snorting and crouching next to Kari when the Cat padded over, running his hand over the Cat's coat in an utterly useless gesture of checking for damage.

"You're all right though?" he asked, Kari nodding and butting his head against his chest, Kir chuckling wryly and continuing, "Well, that method for directing flames didn't quite work – that was flash-fire, there was a sudden abundance of burnable material when you crossed into the astral planes and the usually minor fire took dramatic advantage. And it looked like your exit was also affected?"

"Says the exiting flames were a fair bit more powerful and he had more speed than expected," Anur relayed, shaking his head ruefully, "You two might want to continue experimenting outside."

"Probably a good idea," Kir agreed, "If you're up to continue, Kari?"

By the eager leap the Cat made for the door, he wasn't the only one excited to figure this out.

"How's the Fetching going?" Kir asked, scratching Aelius' neck as he slipped past him in the doorway. Anur's answer was just a beaming grin and an expansive gesture towards the horizon – Kir looked out and barely managed to keep his jaw from dropping. There were arrows, knives and sticks all orbiting in the air, forming distinct circles that were interwoven. Flashy, the move itself was rather useless, but the number of objects moving distinctly, if with a pattern in their movements to make things a little simpler – it was impressive.

"You have been practicing," Kir said, smiling. "Anur that's fantastic."

Anur let the materials settle to the ground, a frown of concentration on his face before he turned back and said, "Thanks! Aelius has to provide some stabilization for it, but a lot less than when we first tried – and there weren't any flung arrows or daggers as I lost control, so that's a plus. I'm still having trouble tracking their motion while I'm moving – whenever Aelius makes a sudden shift I have to scramble to keep things going, I'm too hung up on line-of-sight rather than any sort of sense for where the things are."

"What's the end goal for that?"

"It's easier to redirect weapons like arrows or throwing knives than it is to stop them dead, so these orbits came up when I was trying to figure out a blocking technique that wouldn't involve me shoving them aside and accidentally skewering someone next to me. I'd hope to be able to 'catch' arrows and have them circle to lose some momentum and then I could drop them without worrying – or, if I want to dream big, have them continue orbiting until I need one and then send it shooting off into an enemy but that's not even remotely feasible right now."

"It's a pretty idea though," Kir admired.

"It would be so nice," Anur said wistfully before laughing, "Here I am acting like it's not possible – Kir before I started thinking more creatively I wouldn't have even thought what I just did was possible, so who knows?"

"Let's stick to remote routes going north and back," Kir proposed, shading his eyes as he looked up to Anur, "Take a little longer. Then you could practice more."

"I'd like that," Anur said, grinning suddenly, "But I have more than just the big tricks – I still have dice games that I can practice more subtly!"

"Oh and how's that going?" Kir asked dryly, Anur looking abruptly sheepish and Aelius tossing his head with amusement.

"I wouldn't bet on it yet, let's put it that way."

***===***pagebreak***===***

"If I just – duck to the other side and back, it should be fine," Colbern muttered to himself, eyeing the border to Hardorn with far more trepidation than he'd assumed he'd feel. He hadn't been within spitting distance of the border since their Midsummer warding, but when word had spread that their Incendiary was now sensing incursions of blood-bound soldiers as they crossed he had decided to detour and take a look.

He could see the heat-shimmer appearance of power, and that meant the wards were quite potent indeed. To be fair, part of it was just how his eyes worked – he always had a half-removed bit of mage-sight active, and had that been a hassle to figure out. At first he had thought it was part of his necromancy, but once he'd actually commented on it to his mentor he'd realized that wasn't the case.

It had made teaching difficult, with half his descriptions utterly useless.

"Hmm. Maybe not myself though," he muttered, pulling out one of his bone bags and dumping the contents on the ground. He carefully sketched a circle around the bones with the butt of his axe, the runes etched into the blade and the shaft growing brighter as he actively called on the energy they gathered, and with a feeling like ice along his spine the cat bones came together and formed a whole.

He was going to have to get a new set soon, he noted, spotting the floating gaps where bones had finally disintegrated into dust or been lost. The more of the original creature there was the less power he had to use to animate them, but animating corpses with ligaments and musculature to take some of the mechanical burden was definitely an in-the-moment sort of practice and not something he could plan ahead for.

Not unless he wanted to constantly be killing, and that got wasteful very quickly.

Obeying him with a flick of its tail, the skeleton pranced towards the border – the mark of a true animator was that there was some semblance of randomness, of life in their work. He had never had much of a knack for it besides with cats, any other animations were purely functional and it wasn't something he really wanted to spend more time on anymore.

Cats and his fire would suffice.

His cat walked through the shimmering energy with barely a pause and promptly turned around and meandered back through with no troubles in that direction either. He felt something in his core relax at that very visible sign that necromancy was not blood-magic, was not anathema. The border would have at least flared, had his animation crossed that line. But it hadn't. He hadn't.

He wasn't a witch.

Feeling somewhat better about this plan, he sent the cat ahead again and strode after it, nearly gagging on the other side of the ward – it had barely tingled against his skin but one step on the other side and the despair and rot was pervasive. Some of that was his sight, on this side of the border he could see little of his usual green and yellow and blue and everything was bleached to the shades of faded dying grass, withering in summer's heat.

Or pulsing and rotting with ruddy-red poison – it was being pulled in along gullies in the natural lines of power from strongholds of the rot further in. Their ward was clearing it out, then, but it hadn't been designed to pull things in from so far – hells, their ward was trying to purify a nation from one border, no wonder it had become so powerful so fast.

He shuddered to think at what would happen if it shattered – when it shattered, because if Ancar invaded their anchors would fall, and with enough of those down the ward would descend. They were going to have to develop shunts and fail-safes – the easiest thing to do would be set rigorous watches and the moment they had any hint of Ancar actually moving against Karse they would intentionally take the ward down.

But no one had ever taken one of these wards down, because a cleansing ward was designed to consume the tainted energy and burn itself out when there was no more taint to cleanse. They had plotted, had thought up a way to take their modified ward down, but it had never been tested on this scale.

Ulrich had an acolyte that was a Channel, but utterly untrained from what he remembered. He could at least put a bug in Ulrich's ear about it, but he doubted the boy – now it was going to bother him, he'd met him before, he remembered the brief, ill-concealed panic on the boy's face when he'd walked in on Ulrich teaching him some nuance of ancient Karsite and he had snickered when the boy positively ran…

Though since Ulrich had immediately scowled at him and demanded detailed reports on everything he could think of in retaliation it made sense he didn't quite remember. Dodging Ulrich's verbal jibes and sallying back some not quite idiotic retorts had been far more memorable.

Bah. It wouldn't matter, Ulrich would never let his acolyte's first act as a Channel be aiding this ward fiasco. He'd want something easy, like a mild ley-line redirection or an assisted healing to be the boy's first exposure. Something like this ward would be a bit too much power for a freshly trained Channel – too much of a risk for burnout, and Channel's were rare enough he found himself hesitant to risk the boy.

If he had to choose between this boy he couldn't remember the name of and his Incendiary, who had served as the primary focus for the ward and was feeling the side effects of its power, he'd choose Kir Dinesh. He'd choose Dinesh over quite a few people.

He knew their Incendiary wouldn't agree because the man had a very poor idea of his own importance to their Order and country's progress, but that just meant he'd have to consult with Seras on some workarounds for this ward issue in addition to raising concerns with the entirety of the Order and the ward design group. Seras and he would be able to implement schemes that others would reject out of hand, though from what Seras had been saying recently they'd have to at least get Bellamy to approve them.

Bellamy would be easy to persuade though, Dinesh's life would be on the line.

"Well. That's enough of that," he said, taking one last look at the dying land of Hardorn before turning back this homeland, "Time to go home. Come along, cat."

He stepped back across.

Colors sparked across his eyes and bells rang in his ears, his axe glowed every-bright and blazing his cat dissolved into glowing dust and it was too much too much he was burning -

"Stay back Kir!" he heard, feeling hands tangle in his vestments and haul him forward, his knees not quite up to holding him and he staggered, axe falling from trembling fingers and Bellamy carefully guided him to the ground. Colbern slumped forward, bracing himself against his knees and panting, flesh feeling raw and aching from badly controlled power and vision flickering like he'd stared at a flame for too long.

"It wasn't the necromancy," he managed to gasp, "At least – an animated skeleton was able to cross from both sides with no problems, it was just when I tried to re-enter the wards that… that happened."

"It has to have partially been the necromancy," Dinesh retorted, standing a careful distance away from the border and where he had collapsed, "I crossed the border when we realized I could sense incursions – otherwise something has dramatically changed in the past few weeks and that… doesn't seem believable."

"Could it also be a factor of location? Could the ward be stronger in this zone compared to the northern stretches?" Bellamy suggested, sounding tense and looking deeply concerned. Colbern didn't blame him – even if this was some aspect of his necromancy acting up, that much power – no. This ward coming down had the potential to be very ugly.

:I find it more likely that Colbern is more sensitive to the energies this ward produces – it converts poison into more healthy energy which is then fed back into the land. Doesn't your axe do much the same, converting death-energy into something you can more easily harness?: Kari said, presence at least answering the question of where these two had come from, he had been fairly certain they were scheduled to be in Sunhame at the moment.

"It provides a buffer in addition to storage," Colbern agreed, "Raw necromantic power – it's easy to go too far, for it to rush you. Every necromancer has some buffer or anchor against that."

"So if the ward is producing or contains some energy that could fall in a similar category, your buffering could have been overwhelmed?"

Taking a look at his axe, Colbern couldn't quite hold back a bit of hysterical laughter, pointing to it and saying, "It's still glowing, Eldest. The last time there was that much power swarming the thing I was walking the grounds of a massacre. At least three runes on the shaft are active that I only carved in when my mentor insisted on excessive fail-safes. It was most definitely overwhelmed."

"So no necromancer should cross the border, or get too close to it, if it's still growing stronger," Bellamy summarized, eyes narrowing. "Same with you Kir – even if you did cross the border a few weeks ago I don't want to risk it, all right? You have no buffer."

"I'll avoid it," Dinesh agreed, brow furrowing as he stared at the ward with the peculiar half-there stare of active mage-sight. "We'll have to work on ideas for dismantling it."

"Thank the Sunlord, I thought I was going to have to beg," Bellamy muttered, and Colbern barked a laugh, shaking his head wearily.

"It was such a beautiful thing," he said mournfully, remembering the Midsummer rite they had conducted and how – strong, it had felt. How meaningful. And now they find that in protecting their country they risked destroying their leader.

"It is still a beautiful thing," his Incendiary refuted, releasing his mage-sight and turning all of his focus onto him, "If it is this strong now, not even a full half-year, can you imagine how thoroughly our land would be poisoned? Perhaps it would not have drained so quickly without something active pulling it on, but leagues of territory near Hardorn would be poisoned and hunting grounds for witach's brood. So far we have avoided the corlga and vankra entirely, and I would prefer to not have my lifetime marked by the re-emergence of every single one of our oldest enemies."

"He will not invade in the winter," Bellamy said quietly, "Raiding parties, maybe, scouting runs. But he'll wait until spring."

"Which gives us time to figure this out," Dinesh finally stepped closer to them, crouching so he wasn't looming. "Which gives us plenty of time – and I already have one question – could we channel energy from this ward into the wards we were going to have to strengthen this winter anyway?"

"Figuring out how to channel it could be irksome, but it should be a similar sort of energy – at the very least converting it shouldn't be prohibitive, not if my axe is any indicator," Colbern mused, vision finally back to normal and the raw scraped feeling along his nerves gone, leaving an ache that he could work through behind.

"You look steadier," Bellamy said after a few moments of silence. "Will you be all right to get to Sunhame from here?"

"Yes, I think – yes, I didn't lose much time to that. I'll be able to make it to my next stop just fine," Colbern agreed, checking the angle of the sun.

"Then we will leave you," Dinesh said, offering him a hand and helping haul him to his feet. "Kari heard you screaming and I felt the wards flare like a beacon – we left the horses at the chapel and had best get back."

"I probably won't be back to Sunhame before you leave for the north," Colbern said, picking up his axe and petting Kari when the cat bumped his head against his thigh. "But I will keep you posted on ideas for the ward."

"I appreciate it," Dinesh said, Bellamy catching Kari in his arms with what looked like the ease of long practice and Dinesh wrapped an arm around his Enforcer's shoulders and tangled his other hand in Kari's fur. "But call for back-up if you decide to experiment again, yes?"

He only had time to nod before the trio vanished in a curl of fire and left him standing alone near the border to Hardorn, not another soul in sight and his mare continuing to placidly munch her way along a patch of grass he'd staked her near. An adventure – and such a quick one too, though he suspected he'd be feeling the aches of this one far longer than a bruise or scrape.

Looking at the ash pile that was all that remained of his cat, he sighed heavily. At this rate he was actually going to have to rustle up some dead cats and spend an evening or two extracting their bones himself, that was the third one this year.

He'd have to have a word with the animal caretakers when he got back to Sunhame.

Then he was going to have to speak to Tristan.

***===***pagebreak***===***

Somehow, he didn't know how, but somehow, this was definitely Kir's fault.

No, that was a lie, he knew exactly how he'd gotten saddled with this job, and only part of it was Kir's fault. The rest of it was his tendency to poke at potentially disastrous situations just to see what would happen. So far he'd managed to get out of the messes he landed in mostly unscathed and with a brother he'd never have had otherwise to boot, so he wasn't too worried.

Also, the idea of a Herald of Valdemar having a hand in redesigning the basic Talent identification courses for trainee Sunpriests was hysterically funny. The four in Rodri's batch were going to have to retake the course next year anyway, and none of them were particularly upset about it. Instead of learning more wrong information they'd be spending the rest of the year working up questions and potential gaps in the policy changes that had been getting shoved through since Midwinter. It would be good practice for them.

:Are there any records of Bardic being distinct from Empathy in Karse?: Anur asked, frowning at the paper he'd been using to outline some basics for later research.

:I don't know why you'd expect me to know that Chosen, but based on Kir's confusion when we initially discussed Maltin I would doubt it,: Aelius replied, reminding him once again that they'd been taking care to shield mindspeaking so Kir wouldn't accidentally hear. Just as well, he realized, looking up and smiling faintly at the flame-wreathed figure sitting in the middle of the courtyard, he'd have hated to interrupt Kir's meditation.

They'd set out for Sunhame after returning from helping Colbern and ensuring no residual embers were lurking – apparently Kir and Kari's experiments prior to their rushed departure had made for a much more dramatic burst of flame being left behind. Thankfully they'd been standing in the already burned zone when they left, Aelius hadn't been looking forward to figuring out how to put out fires with no hands. It had meant Kir was still off-balance, but unfortunately they just didn't have time to waste. The time out of Sunhame they had managed to get would do, and judging by the way Fabron was sitting on a bench and just watching, fascinated by the flames practically dancing around Kir while he meditated, it was just as well he still had some settling to do.

:Fair point,: he sent back. :Well that's the basic identifying characteristics of the Gifts I can safely talk about written out – we'll add the others after Midsummer.:

"Fabron, did you need to talk to us about anything or were you just enjoying the weather?" Anur asked, capping his ink and carefully setting it aside on the bench he was using as a desk before standing.

"Ah – oh, Enforcer Bellamy, I found the records you – ah, mentioned, that you wanted to see and came to tell you," Fabron managed to say, stumbling over his words whenever a particularly bright or vibrant flash of flame curled around Kir's form. "I've never seen someone meditate like that before."

"We hadn't either," Anur said dryly, Fabron's mouth twitching at the tone and the younger man looked up to meet his gaze.

"Fun surprise, that?" he replied.

"Such fun," Anur grinned before returning to the original topic, "Thanks for finding those records, Fabron. Where are they?"

"I had Kari put them in your quarters," Fabron said, gaze darkening, "They weren't records you'd want lying around. Can the Eldest - ?"

Anur tilted his head and listened for his brother's mind, hearing nothing beyond sparks and crackling flames and nodding slowly, "I think he's too far in to hear you, for the moment. What's wrong?"

"I read them," Fabron said lowly, "I got Etrius to help me find them – with Seras off working on the ward issue he knows the archival system best, but I didn't let him read them, he's not ordained yet and he doesn't – he doesn't need to read that."

"What happened?" Anur asked carefully, not caring for where this was going at all.

"I have no idea how close the Eldest was to the Demon-Rider who died on that pyre, but Verius made special note of the family he was close to, and Dinesh isn't that common a name," Fabron said, keeping his tone low and measured and Anur had to sit down at that, settling on the bench next to the priest. "And you know very well what is done to suspected Demon-Riders. It is not easy reading, and I would not have either of you look at those records unwarned."

Anur let his eyes close, exhaling carefully because that was not as bad as he had feared. It was reassuring, if anything, because he hadn't spoken with Fabron much, had few interactions with the man overall, and he still went out of his way to warn him of something potentially distressing.

"Thank you for the warning," Anur said finally, opening his eyes and taking care to meet Fabron's gaze as he said it. "Aside from that, was there anything concerning?"

"Verius' word choice is odd, but all his reports are like that," Fabron said, shrugging, "I never knew the man, but the stories I hear and the words I've had chance to read don't quite – fit. I think he tended far more towards Colbern, but attached to students. To the idea of students."

"He's dead," Anur said aloud, mostly to remind himself at this point, "No punching him."

"At least Colbern knows he's bad with people," Fabron said darkly, "And is capable of screwing up once and learning."

"That sounds like a story," Anur commented, and Fabron shook his head, sighing.

"Perhaps someday. Sooner than later, if our lives are any indication, but for the moment you have enough to worry about and it's over, done and learned from."

"Hm. Something to do with the only student Colbern's ever had being Tristan, I take it?" Anur took Fabron's deepening scowl as confirmation and nodded, "Very well. Kir or I will ask eventually."

"Ask me before you go for Tristan, please."

"I think that we can manage. Thank you, Firestarter."

"Thank you, Enforcer."

Fabron watched Kir for a few more moments before leaving with one last half-bow towards Anur. He nodded back at the man and watched him leave thoughtfully. Fabron was young, the youngest of the ordained priests, in fact, and it was interesting that he appeared so knowledgeable as to the Order's internal conflicts and dramas. Something to consider, and maybe bring up to Jaina – it would be easy to word it as a complimentary surprise, rather than some expression of suspicion, so she shouldn't get too defensive about answering.

"He's an interesting one," Kir commented, Anur looking up and smiling wryly.

"Heard all of that, did you?"

"If you're going to ask if I can't hear something, opening with my title – a title that can only ever refer to me – is not the best of starts," Kir replied, dark eyes barely visible behind the rippling curtains of flame he was still surrounded by but tone amused enough Anur wasn't worried.

"Fair point," Anur felt his smile grow to a grin as the flames folded in on themselves and vanished, a faint shimmer in the air from dissipating heat all that remained. "I'm not particularly interested in Wes' interrogation, I'm more curious about how he was found and what Verius reported on your finding. I assume you never read them?"

"I was there and that was bad enough," Kir snorted, rising to his feet, "I saw no need to read someone else's perspective on events, especially not in the bare month I had in Sunhame after my ordaining. All records less than thirty years old are stored so only ordained priests have access, and anything under ten is locked up for the First Order members only. They can be accessed, but you need permission and for that you need a reason."

"And that would have drawn more attention for nothing important at the time, I understand Kir," Anur assured him, "I was simply curious."

"Would you mind simply passing on what you learn? I'd rather not read it myself," Kir said, sounding tired and Anur immediately agreed.

"Of course Kir, you need only ask. How's regaining control going?"

"Well, actually. It's a… hum I heard as background noise, unnoticed, but there. It's far – it fits none of my usual descriptors, pitch will tell me the flammability of something, the amount of energy I need to ignite it and give me an idea of how dramatic the flames will be, and tone tells me more about the specific material – different blends of iron, different types of glass, that sort of thing – but this isn't quite – it sounds difficult to ignite, for lack of a better phrase, but if you find the right…"

Kir was visibly hunting for words as he sat down in Fabron's former spot, and Anur waited a moment before supplying, "Harmony, maybe?"

"That works," Kir said reluctantly, face twisting because it wasn't quite right but then none of what he was experiencing was actually heard anyway so there wasn't much point complaining about the lack of words.

"If you find the right harmony to match that pitch," Kir continued, "Ignition is terrifyingly easy."

"And you'd managed to slip into that harmonization without fully recognizing it," Anur murmured, leaning back slightly and humming for a moment before saying, "From observing Kari and trying to figure out his flames?"

"I believe so," Kir agreed. "Now that I've figured out what it is, I can just – avoid that harmony. It feels strange to hold my flames from a particular manifestation so carefully but it will soon become habit."

"Does that mean we won't be finishing Anika's spear this trip?" Anur asked, knowing he sounded wistful and not really caring because he had been looking forward to that. Finding a day Axeli could sacrifice entirely for the purpose of one spear – it had been hard, and he'd really hoped to deliver that spear to Anika before Midwinter.

"No, I think we will," Kir refuted, "The flames for the forging are very specific and not close to this harmonization, so it should be fine. I will ask Kari to stand by, just in case, but we should be just fine. I'd like to deliver it on the way back north – it will also give us a chance to warn Loshern about the excessive power in the border warding. That oasis is one of the closest towns to the border any more, so he should be notified."

"Excellent!" Anur practically sang, and cackled mentally as he started thinking of ways he could put Loshern just enough on edge to be uncomfortable but not quite far enough to get him to actually say anything. Markov had given him so many ideas!

"That poor man," Kir sighed.

***===***pagebreak***===***

He heard Kiara was home within a mark of her docking, but he managed to greet the news with casual pleasure and continue with his work, looking over some of his apprentices' efforts and checking the soundness of the metal fastenings the new blacksmith had sent over. The man had been in town for six years, but he was still the new one.

At least she had gotten in after noon, if he had to complete a full day of work before tracking her down he wouldn't have managed. Buying a bag of roasted nuts on the way to her home, he couldn't help but offer a brief prayer, looking up at the darkening sky as he headed up the hill. He doubted either of them would make the Sun Descending tonight. He'd be far too emotional to manage a service, no matter how Kir replied.

Kir. His baby brother.

Lukas immediately diverted his thoughts to safer waters, mentally running through the list of orders he had pending and the things that needed to be wrapped up on the two nearly finished ships in his part of the yard. One of his apprentices was near ready for a mastery project – if he hadn't started wooing a girl a moon or so ago and susbequently had a dip in productivity, he would have talked to him about it already. He'd give the boy until Midwinter to get his act together, and if he hadn't started focusing again he'd come down hard.

Knocking on Kiara's door, he just smiled when she wrenched it open, rolling her eyes. She was just lucky he'd already agreed they needed to keep their search under wraps until they had some idea of what people wanted, or he'd have been here within a mark of her docking.

"Come in, come in," she gave an exaggerated sigh, waving him through and he bowed mockingly before making a beeline for the chair she'd always insisted he take. He had protested at first – he was crippled, he didn't need to be coddled, before giving in. She had always been able to stare him down, and it had only gotten worse as she grew.

"He wrote you back," she said over her shoulder, pouring steaming water into mugs. "It's on the table."

He'd already spotted the carefully folded and sealed paper on the low table in front of him but hadn't dared touch it. Setting the wax paper cone of nuts down, he carefully picked it up and felt his breath catch. It was ridiculous, he'd seen Kir's handwriting so often – he'd come by to reread the reply he'd sent Kiara at least twice a week before she left – but seeing his own name in that slashing hand was different.

Was real.

He traced over the letters carefully, trying to press every stroke, every mark into his memory. None of Kir's childish lettering remained – he'd saved a scrap of paper Kir had once written a passage of the Writ on. It had been intended to help him memorize it for the Presentation during the next Feast of the Children, but Kir had never had the chance to recite it. He'd put this letter in the same box he stored that scrap in and treasure it forever, no matter what it said.

Finally flipping the letter over and cracking the seal, he unfolded it carefully and felt his eyes burn even as he started reading it.

Lukas,

When Kiara told me you'd sent a letter – when I knew you were alive – well. I'm rather certain you know exactly how I felt in that moment. If you had not insisted to see me again, I would, because I can't allow my last memory of you to be you bleeding and crushed on the ground. There was so much screaming that day.

I wish I had been able to see the Sundancer, I remember the day you got your apprenticeship at the yard, everyone was so proud – Kiara came into the District for our meeting, we thought it would call less attention to her than Anur and I searching her out on the docks.

She says Nana is alive, and I can hardly fathom it but am so very glad. I cannot say I'm surprised to hear about father, though. It was – it was hard. For him. Regardless of what he was, Wes had been a friend to him at the very least and for all that disaster to happen on one day – no, I am not surprised he never recovered.

She also says Elisia hates Firestarters. I've told her I don't care, I want to try and visit anyway, and it's true, and I've been hated by many people, for a very long time. It will be hard though.

But I can't not try. I've considered you dead for so long Lukas, and all the family as good as because you were lost to me. I became a Firestarter, became one of those nightmares we were warned about in hushed voices, so that I could live because I couldn't quite bring myself to give up that completely, and I hardly dared hope anyone would want to claim me as kin. If it weren't for Anur, I probably would have taken a full year to write back, and even that would be doubtful.

No matter how we meet, you'll undoubtedly meet Anur at the same time, he's my Enforcer, officially, but he's my sworn-brother in truth. I arranged for the Enforcer position mostly to grant him some measure of additional protection, and we were both rather surprised at how well it ended up working out. Sunlord knows I'd be dead and ash many times over without him.

If someone killed him, I would never forgive them, no matter what the circumstance.

Lukas, I'm almost glad I don't have to see our father again. Ari's sake, this is such a mess. There are days where I wonder if the last years have all been a fever dream, some mad imagining out of desperation but Lukas – I couldn't dream this up. I wouldn't dare.

I'll come home, brother. I swear it.

Kir

"Lukas?" he heard Kiara ask worriedly, pressing a handkerchief into his hands and he suddenly realized he was weeping. Hurriedly wiping his face, he held the letter away so he wouldn't accidentally drip on it and smudge those precious words.

"He wants to visit," he managed, looking up to his sister who finally relaxed into her chair and smiled brightly.

"He does," she confirmed, "Him and his Enforcer – a sworn-brother, from what I heard and saw."

"Kir mentions him," Lukas agreed, looking at the letter again and feeling a pang of worry at Kir's confession of relief, that their father was gone. He couldn't quite blame him. "It's – good. To know he hasn't been alone all this time."

"Does he mention his student in that letter?" Kiara asked, and laughed when he shook his head before elaborating and he stared in no little wonder. She was lighter, his little sister, she was hopeful, where before that had been tempered more with worry, with wariness. Kir had made quite the impression. "His student came in with Kir after he'd written that, making some fuss about an essay draft being accepted to Bellamy. I wouldn't be surprised at all if he had schemed that whole conversation to step in and make sure the meeting was going well. He's not alone, Lukas. Not anymore, at least. From some of the things he didn't say – it was hard, for a long while."

"It would have to be," Lukas grimaced, looking again at the letter and feeling his eyes burn as he read his brother calling himself a nightmare, a monster. Resigning himself to a sister's hatred, considering it his due. "How are we going to tell Elisia?"

"I'll be honest, I was hoping you would have ideas," Kiara admitted hesitantly. He couldn't blame her, that was a topic rife with trouble spots and they all knew it. "I only know she hates Firestarters, I have no idea exactly why."

"Part of it was Kir's taking," Lukas allowed, continuing, "Even if that was all of it, him being alive and a Firestarter doesn't change her initial grievance. I think it's best done all at once, family dinner and we say it to them all. Anything more piecemeal and I'd worry she'd rage about being left in the dark."

"Ugly enough we want to make sure the boys and Pavel aren't there or would the three of them help?"

"Could go either way," Lukas said after a long moment. Sunlord, the boys, he had hardly thought about how this was going to affect them. Kiara had hardly known Kir existed, and she'd grown up in a house with silences and little memorials scattered all over the place. Their nephews might not even know another uncle had ever existed, depending on what they'd managed to piece together from the most recent family drama. But asking Elisia to leave them behind would only make things worse. "Best to just tell them day after tomorrow during dinner – if those three are there, then they'll hear it. If they aren't, so be it, we'll track them down later. I'll warn Pavel there might be some drama, just in case. Let him decide."

"When isn't there drama at our dinner," Kiara scoffed, shaking her head and continuing, "Unfair, apologies. It's just been a rough year for it."

"If he does manage to visit before Midwinter we can at least get the most dramatic dinners done in one year, that could be nice," Lukas said, feeling wistful.

"Don't get your hopes up," his sister said dryly.