A/N: This is two out of two chapters posted today!

"You registered a breach in the border wards?" Solaris frowned, exchanging a worried look with Ulrich, one of the lead mages on the project and a Council member besides, "Were the enchanted objects anything unusual? I haven't heard from Karchanek yet."

"If anything the hat and one bracelet should have concealed their presence more – they didn't, but that is probably due to my own growing sensitivity to blood magic," Kir denied, drumming his fingers against his arm as he stared out the window, arms crossed. "I had noticed earlier that I could sense the ward as a presence, as a marker of where our border began, and I can certainly feel the difference crossing."

"Kir, I could feel the difference on crossing and I've heard the soldiers muttering about foul Hardornen air a bit too often to think there's nothing concrete behind it," Anur commented, also standing but leaning against the mantle. They'd only ridden in a few marks ago and preferred to stretch their legs.

"Likewise," Kir murmured, remembering, for a moment, the inn where they'd met – the Hardornens he had met, before Ancar's rise and allowing himself to grieve on their behalf – at least for a moment. Someone needed to.

Sunlord, Hardorn was going to spend generations recovering from this and that was just the literal land, who knew what damage that witch had done – would keep doing – to his own people, the population. Purification rites were hard and costly when they had a nation's faith backing them, centuries of tradition and history to draw upon. Trying to extend that to Hardorn?

At this point it would barely make a dent.

"My primary worry is what this means for you if one of the staves should be disturbed," Ulrich finally said, "We designed the ward to be robust, so one removal or a few knocked down shouldn't be catastrophic, but if, as you say, Ancar will invade come spring, there is no guarantee multiple anchors won't be physically destroyed. The backlash would probably kill those nearby, but fine, they disturbed it in the first place. But if you're sensitive to it now – and it's only going to get stronger."

"The ward itself, or Kir's sensitivity to it?" Anur asked, worry clear in his tone. He truly hadn't realized the potential hazards of an untested working – just as well. He probably wouldn't have allowed them to go through with it – or at the very least would have insisted Kir not take point on the matter, leaving Jaina to serve as primary anchor, and Kir couldn't accept that. He was Incendiary, taking those risks was his job.

They'd taken all reasonable precautions, but magecraft was dangerous, there was a reason so many had stood by while children were claimed for the priesthood or the Fires and it was the pure and simple fact that if they weren't taken, if they were allowed to continue without training, it could be disastrous. Cora had only driven herself mad. That soldier-empath had only been able to drive one person at a time to suicide.

There were stories of entire towns gone insane, of whole families marching themselves into a flooded river, of astral beasts accidentally summoned devouring fields and homes and flesh. Some had probably been exaggerated, tales did that, but there was a germ of truth in them, a truth that people knew in their bones.

Powers were dangerous. Valdemar was utterly bizarre in that people there didn't seem to realize that, or at the very least didn't act like it – they trusted people with Gifts because they were sworn to the Crown – if they weren't, he had no idea how they were treated, admittedly, but they probably weren't burned alive or executed in some other way. At least not for being Gifted – Talented, he really needed to try and remember the Karsite term they were trying to adopt.

Witch-power was so ingrained, though.

"Both, either," Ulrich shrugged, spreading his hands, "The ward itself was designed to purify an enclosed region, originally, and as taint was drawn out and purified the process would speed up, some of that purified natural energy feeding back into the ward. I wouldn't be surprised if the ward had doubled in power after near six moons of purifying the land nearest Hardorn – it will slow, now, as the taint will take time to get close enough for the ward to trigger, but it will only grow stronger, more efficient. It releases that natural energy back into the cleansed land, but Hardorn is being perpetually tainted – I have no idea where the extra natural energy is going. We thought, we designed, for the ward to release it into Karse – we could use the extra fertility for a year or so and where else could we put it? But I don't know how effective that is, I'm not well trained with land and earth-magics, no priests really are."

"Why not?" Anur asked, raising an eyebrow, "Is it that much rarer?"

"No, but it was standing policy that if someone had an earth-bound Talent we didn't take them for the priesthood or the flames unless they had something else that was more condemning," Kir replied, waving a hand dismissively, "As Ulrich said, Karse needs the extra help, agriculturally. We need to eat too."

"Ah – so we need a priest that has a good working relationship with an uncannily good farmer?" Anur's voice only grew more dubious as he continued, Kir chuckling while Solaris responded, amusement clear in her own tone.

"I don't think we'll find one of those anytime soon – much less one who is willing to learn what we'd need them to in order to get meaningful information about this purification ward, and then go anywhere near Hardorn. From my understanding, you two feeling the taint would translate to them being nearly crippled with nausea – anyone near Hardorn with that ability would have found a reason to move away at this point."

"None of this answers the question of what would happen if the ward destabilized suddenly," Kir finally dragged the conversation back to his main concern, "Are there even consistent records about what would happen to the original, circle based ward if it destabilized?"

"Not that I'm aware of, but to be fair most of the purification webs I know are designed to be applied to a person, the location-anchored ones I had to consult with others for – your own Archive has far more resources on that," Ulrich said, Solaris nodding agreement.

"I'll set Seras on it, then," Kir said, letting his gaze go north for a moment before turning away from the window and shaking his head, "Very well. That will be something we'll continue to work on, though if the pair of you could also consider it? I'm not very knowledgeable on mage-craft or wardings."

"You know what else we aren't knowledgeable about?" Anur said brightly, Kir barely having time to feel puzzled before he switched straight to exasperation at Anur's, "Your succession plans should you die suddenly! What a strange thing for a member of your Council to be unaware of."

"That was one of the least subtle subject changes I've ever heard," Kir said flatly.

Anur gave him an exaggeratedly woeful look, "Not the least? I'll have to try harder then."

"Please don't."

"With Hansa's presence, the matter was moot," Solaris began carefully, thoughtfully looking between the two of them as Ulrich sat back in his chair, removing himself from the conversation as best he could. "Even before that, when Kir delivered that letter – when he said that the only thing that would cause him true distress under my regime would be a permanent posting in Sunhame – I had considered the matter resolved."

She switched her focus to him entirely when she continued, every inch of her conveying sincerity, "I would not ask you to be my successor when you would hate every second of it, Kir. You would do well – if I died unexpectedly, you would not let my reforms fade to nothing – you would probably set a significant portion of the District on fire before you were done but the reforms would not disappear – but I had not realized how truly and deeply you would loathe it until then."

"If you were to die tomorrow then, Vkandis forbid, who would succeed you?" Kir asked, practically feeling the weight settle across his shoulders at her hesitation.

"I do not know," Solaris finally admitted, folding her hands in her lap, "I know that a proper successor has been chosen – I will know them when I meet them, I have Seen it, but that will not be anytime soon and I meet them as a youth, so there will be decades before they can take my seat even after that day. Were I to die tomorrow?" she looked towards Hansa, watching him bask in the sunlight with a pensive expression, "Were that to happen, if you did not take my place, I do not know who could."

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

The rage pulsing through him was entirely his own, Anur knew, stepping between Kir and the other two and feeling Kir's resignation – and how that burned, that one conversation with Solaris could bury his desperation to flee so easily – twist briefly into amusement.

"It is not going to happen," Anur said flatly, "We're going to upgrade your security while we're here, and even if something did get through, you all will find someone else."

He spotted Hansa lifting his head and met the Cat's withering look with a scowl, snapping, "Well you didn't speak up earlier, so clearly you can make no guarantees! There's exactly one story of resurrection in the lore so we can't count on that either, and I will not see my brother consumed with self-loathing, because even if he said no and stood firm he would hate himself for it and count every Karsite death as a weight on his soul."

"Anur," Kir said, sounding tired and how Anur hated that tone, resting a hand on his shoulder, "Anur, it is all right."

"No, it's not because you were about to accept it," Anur hissed, looking over his shoulder at him, "You were about to say fine, you were about to agree and it would destroy you! Being Son of Sun – you would hate it, you would be miserable, and I did not sign on to this revolution to see you hate yourself even more!"

"I would think that the entire nation of Karse - "

"Hang Karse!" Anur interrupted, snarling, "Karse can burn, you are my brother!"

"Stop!" Solaris said, stepping forward and resting a hand on Anur's arm, on Kir's shoulder, "Stop, please. Both of you."

Anur met her gaze with a glare, because he didn't regret a damn thing that he'd said except maybe his snapping tone at Kir, but Kir deserved that because he was giving up again and he wouldn't stand for it. Solaris met his glare with a mild look before looking to Kir and softening, "Kir, brother, while I wouldn't say it in the same way, listen to Anur, you chose him as your Enforcer for a reason. Though I would prefer, naturally, that you not set the entirety of Karse on fire. It's probably a good thing you are the one with the Firestarting talent and not Anur."

"That's fair," Anur acknowledged, feeling some of his tension ease because she was agreeing, she wasn't trying to guilt Kir into something that he didn't want to do. That he shouldn't have to do. "And I apologize for the outburst but – you were about to say yes, Kir."

"I was," Kir admitted, "Because I don't want this revolution to end without making true, lasting changes, Anur, and if my succeeding Solaris would help that – it won't happen, it shouldn't, but if having some sort of insurance in place should it happen – if that makes a difference, I would shoulder it."

"We can find someone else," Solaris said firmly, squeezing their shoulders briefly before stepping back, "We will find someone else. Worst come, I'll get Karchanek to do it. He listens to Ulrich and is powerful enough a mage he'd probably survive."

"I don't know how to say this politely, but if you were dead, Karchanek would be the first one leading a charge of blazing vengeance on whoever killed you," Anur said, "He's not quite as rabid as me, but he's close."

"Ah, so you did recognize that kindred spirit," Kir snorted, elbowing him in the ribs, "I had wondered."

"He'd be glaring at me so hard right now," Anur commented, shaking his head before looking back at Solaris and nodding, "Karchanek then. We could sit on him long enough to make it happen."

"Grevenor and Larschen are very good at pinning him down," Ulrich agreed, Anur jumping slightly because he had honestly forgotten the man was there. "And I am very good at glaring him into submission. We would be able to manage until your successor, but I am quite confident it won't happen, not with Honored Hansa on the task."

There was a knock on the door and servants bearing food came in – Solaris had declared they'd all be joining her for dinner the moment they walked in, so at least their timing had been good. Either that, or muffled shouting had been heard through the doors and the servants and guards had decided they weren't walking into that for love or money.

Though judging by the steam coming from the soup, that hadn't been what happened.

"Thank you," Solaris said, the three of them nodding agreement and echoing her thanks as the servants bowed and left. There wasn't much conversation for a while – the blessing, idle chatter about passing seasoning and commenting on the vegetables – before Anur had a thought, and snickered.

At the questioning looks, he grinned and said, "I know just the person to list as your successor."

"Go on," Solaris said, raising an eyebrow and trying to hide her smile but he was onto her, he'd gotten that expression out of her more than a few times now.

"Markov!"

Ulrich choked on his water and Kir dissolved into laughter, shoving back from the table so he didn't knock anything over.

"That is a terrible idea," Solaris said flatly.

"No one would dare kill you if they knew the next person for the job was Markov, I'm just saying, it would be a great security measure."

"We should at least spread the rumor," Ulrich managed, looking amused himself, "With a rumored selection of him, Karchanek or Kir, I don't think anyone would dare breathe ill intentions your way."

"Can you imagine – just – try to imagine – Markov, administering a Sunhame sermon," Kir gasped around snickers, "What would he even say?"

"'Haha, I win, take that Lastern'?"

"...Do you think there would be any rats?"

She tried, Anur would give her that, but he definitely caught Solaris hiding a smile while Kir tried to stop giggling and Ulrich kept musing aloud on the possibilities of a Markov-designed sermon. Catching her gaze, he tipped his glass in her direction, nodding slightly and that was all the apology she would get for his outburst, for his snarls. She raised her own mug a bit and he knew that it was all the apology she would need.

Solaris really was magnificent. He'd have to bring her some spice-cake.

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

Rodri had intended to start writing a draft of the paper on sun-blessed steel, if Kir recalled correctly. Instead the initiate was sitting at his desk, scratch paper ready and pen inked, cross-legged on the chair and staring at the arrowhead cupped in his palms with an utterly fascinated expression.

Seeing as he had left Anur doing much the same over his own arrowheads instead of reading the texts on wards Seras had pressed on the pair of them – more on Kir, both because of this new development in the Midsummer wards and the coming reinforcement of the catacomb wards, but Anur had insisted on reading them too, frequent questions on magical terminology aside. At least when he was actually reading, the past two marks had seen him get through perhaps a page and a half of text.

"Well, I was going to offer to edit what you'd gotten down so far, but I see that is unnecessary," Kir murmured, Rodri looking up at him and blinking with a slightly dazed look in his eyes before he shook it off and looked at his paper, laughing ruefully.

"Yes, starting tonight might have been a little ambitious," he admitted, "I just – want to get everything down before I forget."

"You realize we'll be doing this again, yes?" Kir said, grabbing a nearby chair and setting it next to Rodri's desk before sitting, resting an arm on the table and meeting his student's gaze, "We are going to go back tomorrow to make some spearheads and start trying to incorporate hammering."

"Right, but I want to try and get things down so I can notice the differences tomorrow," Rodri said, reaching to set the arrowhead on the desk visibly hesitating as he let it leave his hand, keeping one palm cupped over it as if it were going to run away.

"It's warm, Father," Rodri murmured, awe rekindling in his eyes, "It's – it's singing."

Kir tilted his head slightly and listened – and yes, there was a bit of a tune in that hum, and what a way to finally have Rodri start to hear what he did. What a better way, than his frantic attempts to hear anything but screams, than Griffon's desperation and rage splitting the world open before him – he would have to add that to Rodri's monograph, whenever it was produced. It might be generations before someone with his and Rodri's knack for fire arrived, and if they could find a way to hear that buzz without hearing someone's death first -

It would be such a wonderful legacy.

"And that's what I mean, by humming," Kir said, "Not as beautiful, not as… tuned. But that pitch you're hearing – the tones that make up the song – it's what I hear from everything."

"From – from everything?" Rodri asked, shaking off his dazed look – him hearing the song explained much of his distraction, because it was distracting to hear something no-one else could. The fact that the sun-blessed steel truly sang was probably all the worse for that. "Wouldn't that be – how can you focus on anything?"

"Practice," Kir shrugged, "It becomes background noise. It's worse in crowds, people move and shift and alter too much for me to be able to ignore them easily – and the Talented are even worse for that, but mages are by far the most difficult to press to the back of my mind."

"Is that why you hate Sunhame so much?" Rodri asked, brow furrowing, "It's loud?"

"A reason," Kir allowed, looking at the arrowhead Rodri was again examining, curiosity starting to burn in the boy. Good – with any luck, that could be directed to writing this paper he wanted to produce, it would be a shame for his goal of notes and first impressions to not be met. First thoughts were important.

"I'll be right back, and I want at least a few highlights written down," he warned, Rodri sighing theatrically and picking up his pen – the other hand stayed curled around the arrowhead and he was just glad they hadn't been finely sharpened. By now Rodri and Anur would have sliced their hands to ribbons.

"Anur," he said, smiling when Anur looked up from his cupped handful of arrows with a similar dazed look – perhaps he heard the song too, perhaps it was something else. He'd ask later, when mention of Heraldic Gifts wouldn't be a disaster. "Could you neaten up the books? I'm going to get some string and then talk to Rodri for a while."

"Course," Anur agreed, starting to work and actually managing to put the arrowheads down so he at least wasn't as drawn in. "I'll meet you there."

His basket of knotwork was tucked away in the Hall's kitchen-dining area, as was usual when he and Anur were in residence. Finding the piece he was looking for easily, he carefully pulled it out and coiled it around his hand – it wasn't much more than half-done, so he could easily alter the design for what he had in mind, and it hadn't been intended for anyone in particular so it wouldn't disrupt his carefully planned out gifting schedule.

Jaina and Seras were done, Anur's was going to be difficult to finish in time since he had to wait until he wasn't around – worst come, he'd get Aelius to distract him for a few marks, that's what he'd resorted to last year. Colbern's cording to rewrap his axe-handle had been finished in one evening, the pattern had been simple and the leather cord thick. Figuring out how to anchor the sun-pendants without making the whole thing non-functional had taken the longest.

Etrius would be getting a page-marker like Seras so that wouldn't take long, and Maltin was getting a new fancy knotwork cord for the pipes he had taken to wearing around his neck – he'd started on that. He hadn't figured out what to make for the others yet, but hopefully Jaina would have some ideas. It wasn't entirely expected for every Firestarter to get a gift from the new Incendiary their first Midwinter in office, but it was something of a tradition, if he remembered right. He'd certainly received one from Jaina, sent with a pack of Sunhame dispatches – a confirmation of Phyrrus' death and a box of fancy tea.

Exchanging good nights with Fabron when they passed in the hallway, he made a mental note to ask about what sort of string-magic he favored, because that might make an interesting focus for his gift and be useful knowledge beside – and then he was back in the Archives, hearing the low murmur of voices from the corner Rodri had occupied and shaking his head. Hopefully he'd gotten at least a few remarks down before Anur accosted him.

When he rounded the corner he paused, somehow surprised to see Rodri and Anur both sitting with their heads bowed over the paper, an oil-lamp relocated to the desk itself as they discussed points to include. The light was glinting off a careful pile of arrowheads, the metal's peculiar golden sheen all the more evident, and Rodri's was probably the one set distinctly apart from the pile.

That made this easier at least.

Taking his chair again, Rodri and Anur each only spared him a glance and a smile before continuing to talk about the forging they'd witnessed this morning. There was apparently some debate on exactly when the flames had shifted from plain fire to clearly Other.

While they talked, he took the chance to pick up Rodri's arrowhead, wrapping the base with a twisted pair of cords and securing it before starting to knot a flat strip for the arrow to lie upon. He could secure the braided edging he had planned after there was something to anchor it too – perhaps a simple seven-pointed sun design to lie on top, with the ends woven into the underlying knots? The effect of the gold-shimmering metal underneath the strings of various bronzes and browns he was using would be nice and subtle.

He was murmuring the protective prayers out loud, he realized – he only really did that when he and Anur were alone on the road or in their quarters, habit of a lifetime spent hiding the one connection to his family he'd managed to hold onto aside form his name. But there was no reason to hide it anymore, if there ever really had been, and aside from one or two glances his way from the diligently writing pair, they weren't distracted by it.

Kir felt himself smile, and let his mind sink into his design.

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

"I had forgotten you made those knotwork pieces," Axeli commented the next evening, the two of them sitting behind the forge in the small yard he used to test pieces and store barrels of scrap metal for smelting. It was essentially a hemmed in square of packed dirt, barrels along one side and a clear area for drills across, a few benches along the far wall, plain brick that he was fairly certain had the glass making district on the other side. There were doors connecting them somewhere in the grouping of smithies, but he had never had reason to venture outside of Axeli's forge-cluster and even less inclination as a youth.

Even now, he didn't want to wander Sunhame much. Riding different routes into the District and retracing routes to Axeli was enough.

"I've been making fewer than usual these past years," Kir replied, tilting his head back to look at the darkening patch of sky they could see, "I didn't make many before my ordaining – just enough to remember how."

"Thought it looked like Lake-work," Axeli huffed, flexing his hands with a grimace, "You make good quality pieces. We might need to have Beka step in for the next forging, that took longer than expected and my joints aren't thanking me."

"It would probably good for one of them to be experienced in it anyway, if Beka and Rodri are serious about trying this themselves," Kir allowed, casting a sidelong glance Axeli's way and hesitating before asking, "Would heat help or make it worse?"

"Can't hurt, but I don't think setting my hands on fire would be any better," Axeli said dryly, Kir snorting and holding his hands out, twisting to face Axeli.

"Please," he said, "I think I would know better than that."

Axeli held out his left hand and Kir placed his hands around it, not quite contacting aside from his fingertips and letting the air – and only the air – between them start to warm. "I worked out how to start warming things without visible flames a year or so before my ordaining," Kir murmured, Axeli humming thoughtfully but not interrupting, "It wasn't something particularly – useful, except for my own comfort, so I never thought to mention it. The one time I tried – well. You remember the story of how Darius died."

"You were useless for forging that week," Axeli recalled, wiggling his fingers carefully, "Had to sit you down with spiked tea to get the story out of you and even then you barely made sense."

They sat in silence a while more, Kir carefully maintaining the heat around Axeli's hand. It had been – well, it had been years, since they had sat in this back courtyard and not said much of anything. The times he'd managed to visit – at least once every time Anur and he were in Sunhame – they worked in the forges, maybe caught up while they waited for a piece to get to the right temperature or chatted in between explaining some project or objective to Rodri or Anur, but never to the point they stayed to shut the forge down.

Rodri had left his over-robe and Anur his sash before they went out with Yakob and Beka to pick up some food from an alehouse Axeli frequented when they stayed late. Kir didn't like it, but he also was tired from being on his feet and essentially in a trance state for most of the day so he would just listen for any mental alarm and hope Kari was following as he'd promised.

"Switch," Axeli said, pulling his hand from Kir's heat-pocket and sliding his right hand into place, "Personal comfort only or not, it's become quite useful. A good thing to cultivate."

"It's probably Anur's favorite," Kir said wryly, "The sheer volume of times he's wandered over bundled up against the cold and looked pitiful until I warmed his coat up for him is absurd."

"I'll believe that of him," the forge-master laughed, shaking his head, "No idea where you picked him up, but he is one of a kind, your Enforcer. Good to see you had someone watching your back for at least a few years, though. I'd wondered about you, but after how you'd left Sunhame – I didn't want to bring any more attention down on you than I already had, letting you work with me."

"Probably for the best," Kir allowed, recalling those first few years in the Sunsguard. No, while he would have welcomed a letter from Axeli, drawing any more attention than he'd already gained with an absurdly fast ascent to First Order Firestarter, immediate exile into a chaplain posting when he was barely old enough to be conscripted into the Sunsguard himself, and being the first Firestarter chaplain since Colbern aside?

No, it had taken time for him to fade from Sunhame's memory, and any letters aside form his reports to Sunhame would have only prolonged it, innocuous exchange of news or not.

At this point, only the sergeant and one hostler remained that remembered his arrival to the 62nd, and he doubted they remembered any of the close calls he'd had. They'd been well-designed to look like accidents or attacks by foreigners or witches or bandits, and he'd managed to live through them without much fanfare or drama to draw attention. Sunlord, he was so glad that was over.

"That bad, then?" Axeli smiled at his raised eyebrow, pulling his hand back and rubbing his joints idly, "Thank you for that, Kir. But really, you think I don't know how chaplain postings usually worked? You were no headhunter, anyone with eyes knew that, so you were being sent out to die. I gave you what tools I could, but I wondered."

"I managed," Kir said finally, "And if you could not mention that to Anur I would be very grateful. I still haven't quite talked him down from the latest mess."

"Hmm. He's been unbearably curious about that nearly burning down the forge story," Axeli said, a teasing gleam in his eyes and Kir sighed, only half-faking its heaviness.

"Very well," he conceded. "At least it will be a cautionary tale to Rodri."

Judging by the half-amused, half-horrified expression on Rodri's face as Beka and Yakob tried to piece together their half of the tale – they hadn't been as drunk as him, actually remembering what had happened past Beka's scoffing challenge, but they had certainly been impaired – it served that purpose quite well.

From the mix between gleefully amused and thoughtfully grim, Anur was getting a fair bit more of the subtext than Rodri was. Ah well, better this than thoughts on what his life in the 62nd had been like those first years – he hadn't killed all his attackers after all, some had retired or transferred and he wouldn't put it past Anur to at least try and track them down for extremely delayed retribution.

They had more important things to spend their time on.

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

"You realize, of course, that you're being entirely unreasonable about this whole successor issue," Kir said later that night in their room, lying on the bed to read one of the warding texts that seemed most promising while Anur used the desk to update his chronicle and copy some passages on basic magical knowledge from another text.

It would be good for Heralds to have another source for knowledge of magic. Someone aside from the princess would need to have some idea of what was going on, and if it was a Herald with no drop of magic in them so much the better. Bringing mages back after centuries was going to be difficult, established system for people with strange powers or not – from what Aelius had said years ago, there had been something of a schism developing between Herald-Mages and standard Heralds, and he was curious to see how they would fix that.

Having mages that weren't Heralds would probably help, of course. But then they'd have to set up an entire mage school – collegium, he thought the Valdemaran word was – and that could take decades to get running properly. It would take decades to run properly, and their legislation had probably shifted over the centuries to entirely disregard mage-craft…

He had so many things to research when Anur got summoned to Haven. Hopefully this Chronicler Myste would be satisfied with Anur's chronicle – he had also put a request in for copies of some common histories and monographs from their Archives, those should at least get him a foot in the door. She was close to Herald-Captain Alberich, from Anur's muttering, so she probably spoke and read Karsite.

"Probably," Anur agreed, grimacing, "I don't actually think I'd rather see Karse slide back into its old ways than see you be Son of Sun, but with any luck the choice will never be put in front of me. You were terrified, Kir. I've never – I've never seen you that scared before."

"Ah," Kir said softly, looking up from his text and watching as Anur stubbornly focused on the passage he was writing. "My apologies, then."

That got Anur to look up, giving him an exasperated glance and saying, "You don't need to apologize for having feelings Kir, Ari's sake. You scared me, sure, but my overreactions are on me, not something that you should blame yourself for. You're my brother – and my equal."

:Aelius is – everything,: Anur continued, switching conversational mediums when they discussed anything Valdemaran near habit by now, especially in Sunhame, :Heart and soul and – he's my Companion, but he's older, he's an older brother, someone who looks after me. I take care of him too but it's not as – equitable, as the two of us. He's also in much less danger than you, day to day, or at least, what danger he's in, I'm in too. The threats to you are unique to you, and most of the time I don't feel like I can do anything to avert them and that makes things – worse, those times that I can. So I need to work on overreacting, you need to work on saying no to things that terrify you or make you uncomfortable, and we'll go from there.:

:How mature, Chosen.:

:Oh shut up, witch-horse.:

:And he's back-slid again, my condolences Aelius.:

:You two are both the worst.:

"You swore by Ari," Kir said aloud, tilting his head and smiling at the bewildered mental silence that followed.

"..yes? Did I do it wrong? Am I not supposed to?" Anur asked, visibly confused.

"No, no," Kir laughed, "You used the phrase as I would, but it's – it's something only Firestarters do, really. I've never heard – no one else uses it."

"Well I'm going to keep using it," Anur shrugged, smiling wryly, "What's one more thing setting me apart?"

:Fair point, Chosen. And it would help you fit in with the Firestarters at least – I have a question, now that we have a moment to speak. Kir, you seemed surprised, or at least – it didn't seem like you expected your forging to succeed. Today you were trying something new, so I understood, but it seemed like the same attitude was there yesterday? Hadn't you done arrowheads before, so you already knew that process?: Aelius asked, and Kir set his book aside because this conversation wasn't going to lend itself to multi-tasking.

:I don't fully understand the process, though: Kir admitted, :Axeli and I had to recreate it remember, and it took more than a few unsuccessful attempts before we hit something that worked and it was the week after my ordaining. I'd just ascended to First Order Firestarter and a full priest besides, it was right after Midwinter's day itself – I have no idea of either of those things were components. If this hadn't worked, we'd have waited until a few days after Midwinter and tried again, and if that hadn't worked we'd have had to start from scratch.:

:Would Kari have known?: Anur asked.

:I did ask, he says he isn't familiar with the process. Admittedly, I never asked Hansa but the main archives don't have much on it beyond mentions in stories of someone using sun-blessed steel. The few references I found to crafting such things were found here, I think a Firestarter is necessary – it's certainly necessary for Axeli and my version of the process.: Kir caught himself halfway through switching his shrug to a roll of his shoulders, habit forcing the gestures indicative of nonverbal conversation into something else. It would probably never fully break.

:Well, Rodri is very excited,: Anur commented, setting aside his pen and saying aloud, "Done for the evening, Kir?"

"Probably," Kir agreed, rolling to his feet and carefully stacking and marking his spot in the books he was working through. He would return a few to the archives tomorrow but there were still two more he wanted to finish before this visit to Sunhame concluded – their next Sunhame trip would be the extended Midwinter stay, and the necromancy warding would be somewhere in there. Hopefully he wouldn't need to step in at all, but he'd rather be ready for it than not.

:I can't blame him,: Aelius admitted while Anur disappeared into the washroom, :I rather wish I could have been there in person, instead of watching through Anur's eyes. It's a foolish idea for more reasons than one, but it would have been nice.:

:Perhaps one day we can manage something,: Kir offered.

:I'd like that.:

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

Letter, alms, knives left behind – I'm not going to be any more ready, Kiara thought, taking a bracing breath in her cabin and running her hands down the front of the knotwork-on-silk vest her sister and grandmother had made her after her second year of captaining – she'd only really worn it for High Holy Days and meetings with the most influential of her clients, but for a visit to the Temple District of Sunhame -

Well. Nothing less than her best would suffice.

"Looking classy, Captain," Gregor commented when she checked in with him on the deck. "Fancy contract in the offing?"

"Don't think so," Kiara shrugged with practiced ease, "But we're here overnight to load that last shipment in the morning, thought I might see the District while I was here. Never thought I could, so why not?"

Her first mate hummed thoughtfully, meeting her gaze before offering an equally casual shrug and smiling wryly, "Good luck then, Captain. Back fore dusk?"

"I'll stand the evening watch," she agreed, clapping him on the shoulder before heading down the gangplank, ignoring the occasional double-take and ill-hidden skepticism at the sight of a woman captain with ease, though she noted the worst offenders. It wouldn't do for her to enter business with someone who thought her lesser – not without preparation at least.

She deliberately merged with a stream of people very obviously not gawking at the Gates and even exchanged a nod of acknowledgement with one of the soldiers standing guard. The Gates were lovely, and impressive, and had she not had a mission, had she really been here as a pilgrim, she'd have gladly gawked for a few minutes before daring to enter the sacred District.

If she paused, there were even odds she'd turn on her heel and dawdle in the markets until going back to Gregor wouldn't make it obvious she'd turned tail and run.

The group scattered to their destinations once through the gate and she picked a random direction and strode off with equal intent, hands locked behind her back and she let her eyes drag across the gardens filled with slowly turning leaves and autumn flowers carefully arranged, across the gilded domes and spires plunging towards the sky – Sunlord this place was beautiful. Her brother had grown up here.

The pounding in her ears was her own heart, she suddenly realized, finding a bench tucked into a hedge in a deserted corner and she sat down, tucking her chin and forcing herself to breath evenly. What was she even doing here? Her brother's letter said she'd be welcome, certainly, even gave her exact weeks where she could expect him here – he would be here, if all was well, she'd meet her brother -

She'd meet him, and if all went well, she'd tell the rest of the family.

He'd been so indifferent in that first letter, so cool. She understood, she had to, she didn't even want to imagine what Elisia's reaction to his position, to his Order, was going to be. But if there was any hesitation on his side, positively eager response to her own letter aside – there was no reason to break hearts if it wasn't necessary. She could stand at least a little apart, judge things a little more coherently, without the longing for some boy that had been snatched from them who was, to be frank, as good as dead personality wise, coloring her vision.

She wasn't going to let him break Nana's heart with his presence. His absence was bad enough.

"Those look to be very deep thoughts," a sudden voice nearly gave her a heart attack and she jumped, looking up at the priestess who'd spoken with wide eyes. The amber-eyed woman smiled faintly and said, "My apologies for startling you. I didn't realize you hadn't heard my approach. May I join you?"

"Ah – certainly Holiness," Kiara managed, scooting aside and giving the tabby-cat that appeared to sit at the woman's feet a curious glance. "My apologies for monopolizing the bench."

"Oh not at all, it's hardly my personal bench," the woman chuckled, "I simply haven't seen you around the District before and thought I might offer assistance. As I said – they looked to be heavy thoughts."

"Not heavy – so much as conflicted," Kiara admitted, "I – I'm here to meet my brother. Maybe."

"Your brother," the priestess murmured, tucking her hands into gold-trimmed sleeves – oh Sunlord she'd run into a high-ranking priestess hold it together. "He is a priest then?"

"Yes," Kiara said, resting her hands on her thighs and very consciously not clenching them into fists. "He – I don't know for certain if he's even within the District, I just – received a letter from him and managed to get a shipment to Sunhame scheduled so I thought – I thought I should try."

"If you will permit me a guess," the woman began, Kiara nodding shortly but nonetheless startled when she said, "Kir Dinesh is your brother?"

"I – yes," Kiara said blankly, blinking in shock before asking, "How did you know?"

"There's quite a resemblance," the priestess admitted, "And he is within the District, as it happens – arrived four days ago. You're quite lucky, he's only here for a week or two at a time. Would you care for an introduction?"

Kiara hesitated, glancing between the woman and the cat sitting at her feet and feeling utterly stunned by her own daring she said, "If you will permit me my own guess?"

At the small smile on her face, Kiara guessed her question was answered but she said it anyway, "Eminence Solaris?"

"It is a pleasure to meet my brother's sister in blood," the woman said and Kiara felt faint as the tabby cat was suddenly triple the size and brilliantly cream-and-crimson, watching her with intelligent blue eyes. "But I hope you are not offended by my insistence that you step carefully around Kir – I would not see him hurt."

"He does care then?" Kiara blurted, wincing and adding on, "Simply – his first letter, it was very bland and I understand, I do, but the only thing that hinted at him caring at all is his Enforcer's post-script and his answer to my request to meet, and if he doesn't care there's – there's no point in ripping open old wounds on either side."

"Oh little sister," the woman said with a weary smile, "You both care, you two care so very much."

Kiara took a deep breath, glanced at the Firecat sitting at the feet of her God's Chosen Son, and met the woman's eyes again.

"Then I would be honored by your introduction, Radiance."