Summary: Finding out Teucer was dead had almost broken him. If this didn't work, he would.

Ajax had made his decision before he thought it through—that wasn't unusual. He usually didn't have to make decisions regarding his family anymore.

He pocketed the vial of frozen blood and the full grown teeth that had been pried out. If they had wanted a child that wasn't a child but never grew Ajax could use baby teeth, but they didn't want that.

His father's face was stony, grieving the death of his son. A nod, acknowledgement of what Ajax was commiting to for his younger brother, and that was all.

His mother forced him to eat soup despite the cold and silence of the house. Ajax couldn't help but smile as he ate. The soup seemed too thick and the vegetables too soft. It was the grief, not an issue with the cooking.

His older siblings gave him two sweaters—one was in Teucer's size. They believed in him. They believed he would be able to bring Teucer back right, or at least with most of his pieces. And when they were home, it was a promise of acceptance.

Tonia gave him a hug, long and warm, then she offered him a toy and a drawing from Teucer's room.

Ajax put the drawing in his bag. The cyclops toy rang metalically against his weapons and coins.

He turned around and left his family home.

He still walked.

The cold wind bit at him, jealous and unyielding. The ice stuck to his boots, trying to creep into his flesh. The long ends of his scarf fluttered behind him, the only bold color in a land of whites and blues.

He walked.

He thought this might have been the longest he had held his abyssal transformation. His bones, elongated, creaked uncomfortably. He felt the electricity that would sometimes escape in snaps and bursts less and less as his skin grew cold even through his non-human form.

He walked further until he saw the cave.

The entrance to the den of spirits was in the far North. No one went there unless they wished to die…or wished to bring back someone from the dead.

Finding out Teucer was dead had almost broken him.

If this didn't work, he would.

The ritual was nice in its simplicity. All one had to do was find the spirit, pour the blood out on the snow, hold the teeth in one's han, and light a fire.

Ajax let go of his transformation as he walked into the cave. He felt small and helpless. He had gotten used to the height.

The cave was far more ice than snow, more snow than stone. Icicles extended down from the ceiling. Snow coated the floor and kept an undisturbed record of those who had gone there before.

Ajax shivered, but he was thankful for the wind finally being blocked. He wrapped another loop of his frozen scarf around his throat.

The new spirits were close to the entrance. That was also easy.

Teucer was taller than when Ajax had last seen him. There was blood in his chest. He was still—the type of stillness that resembled ice over a pond midwinter.

"Teucer," Ajax called. He ignored how his voice trembled. "Teucer, can you hear me?"

He frowned at the lack of response, but this was not the time to stop.

Ajax poured out the blood. He clenched the teeth in his hand and knelt down to make a fire.

Had he been right? Right to protect Teucer from the world? To give him childhood that had been ripped away from Ajax?

Or had he been wrong. Should he have beaten Teucer into the snow and ice until he was sure his younger brother could survive. Maybe Ajax could have prevented if he had trained Teucer to fight.

He had kindling in his pocket. Something small and fierce that defied odds.

Ajax tried to set a fire with flint and steel, then pulled out a lighter. It was one of the few prototypes sent over from Fontaine.

He dropped the teeth into the blaze.

The fire shot up.

He couldn't see the other wall through Teucer anymore.

Teucer definitely was bigger. He had hit the first of his growth spurts and shot up to barely below Ajax's shoulder, no longer the perfect height for getting his hair messed with by his older siblings. He didn't seem to realize yet that he was alive again—the same blank expression on his face. The cold numbed him to the pain of living.

Ajax took off the bloodied clothes and put on the sweater from their older siblings. He let the fire burn the rest of the blood.

The fire would stay lit until there was a new fire here. They had time. Few people would try to make the trip, nevermind survive it.

Ajax picked up Teucer and left the cave.

It was hard to see through the falling snow, but he traced his footsteps back as far as he could and then hid them under a snow drift.

Ajax curled himself around Teucer and remembered their direction home. He needed to sleep before they made the rest of the trip back.

He woke up and pulled Teucer out of the snow.

Ajax walked with his brother on his back, holding his knees. His bag was slung around his front and hit his hip with every step.

Teucer seemed a bit more awake now. He curled his arms around Ajax's neck.

They were a bit warm, but they were not done.

Once the forest was in sight, Ajax let out a sigh. He was tired of artic tundra and nothingness.

As they entered the forest, they could see snow melting. The water hit with the stones below with a plink, plink, plink—hollow, but moving.

Ajax put Teucer down on a rock and used his Vision to clear it of melted water. He crouched on front of his little brother and gave him two things: a drawing and Mr. Cyclops.

Teucer shifted, blinked.

"Teucer?" Ajax asked. This was the closest he had ever gotten to begging in his life.

Teucer ran his fingers over the Mr. Cyclops. "They aren't toys."

"No. They aren't," Ajax agreed sadly.

"Who are you?"

Ajax sighed. He leaned back on his heels. "I'm a harbinger, not a toy seller." He waited for anger or accusations, but nothing came.

They stayed there for a while, letting the water drip and melt more snow.

Teucer looked tired. His sweater clung to his frame, instead of being a bit too big—their sweaters were always made a bit bigger to give them room to grow into. "Why did you bring me back?"

"You are my brother. I came as soon as I heard," Ajax said.

"I'm not going to fall for your lies anymore. I'm not a kid." And there was a hint of the anger, of the blame.

'You are a kid,' Ajax wanted to say, but the words stuck on his tongue and refused to leave his mouth. He remembered being a kid but not being a child. He knew what it was like to face monsters and not be able to see past them. "I wanted you to be happy. You can still be happy, but yes, you're not…naive. You know the world can be cruel. So, get up." Ajax stood and waited for Teucer to follow.

He made his first move slow, but still clipped Teucer on the cheek.

Teucer stumbled back slightly and drew his hands up, copying what he has seen on the streets of their village—brawls in rings and drunks from bars. "What are you doing?"

"I am going to teach you how to fight." Ajax would always run when his family called him. However, they also knew how to stand by themselves. He would come, but he would not always be on time.

Ajax ran Teucer through the basics, the type he would teach new recruits with no fighting experience. It was made a bit more funny by Teucer's awkward movement—he hadn't gotten used to the growth spurt before he died. He was somewhat strong for his age and used to moving with exhaustion, as all the children of their village were.

They rested in the forest for the night, ate some of the small animals, and moved on.

It wasn't too long before they were back home. It was usual for the trip to the cave to take much longer than the trip back. That was one of the payments, one of the trials.

Ajax unlocked the door and ushered Teucer inside.

It was dark and quiet. Everyone had gone to bed.

Ajax lit a fire in the hearth. They had left him kindling, flint, steel, and wood.

Teucer helped feed the fire. His cheek was starting to bruise.

The anchor was set and the fire in the cave was transfered here. This soul was in the regular world and here to stay until he died and his soul traveled back again.

"I'm back."

The words stuck in Ajax's throat again—all the promises he wanted to make. 'You are hurt. You are not broken. If you want, I will train you, properly. You will not die fruitlessly again. I will protect you.'

Ajax slung his arm around Teucer and watched the fire burn. He was not letting go for a while. "Yes," he agreed. "You're back."

A/N

I'm writing full length original novels but I was talking with one of my editors when I came up with this idea and I blame them for this. Hitt can now never complain about how long it takes me to write novel 4.

I also wrote this fic half passed out from altitude sickness and sleep deprivation. Surprisingly turned out well.

—Silver