--The Fourth Realm--

A fanfic taking place in the Realms of the Blood, created by

Anne Bishop whom I worship and pay tribute to every day.

Just kidding. Or so you think.

(Written by the Great and Powerful Keski,

spell checked by Microsoft Office Word 2003)

---

Chapter XIII

Brothers

---

Althemen cautiously probed the room beyond the thick wooden door.

Fear, humor, pain, triumph, and two familiar presences, one more than the other.

This was it. He sensed Alnevar's mind inside this room, and…

His upper lip curled in a murderous snarl. Skaviar. Versiver's pet. He had to get rid of Skaviar. His duty to Menteur would not allow him to do otherwise.

"Alnevar is inside this room," he said. "And whoever snatched him is in there with him. Are we ready?"

Satiyen snorted. "Do you have to ask? We need to get Anna and get out of here. So let's get this over with."

Althemen smirked and laid a hand on the door. It was Grey-Locked.

"Why did he even bother?" Althemen muttered as he blew the Locking magic away with a thought.

The door swung open easily.

---

"Althemen! I never expected to see you here," Skaviar said when Althemen entered the room.

"We both know that isn't true," Althemen said in a low voice. "Skaviar, I don't know what your orders from Versiver were, but I can guess. We will leave as soon as we have Anna."

"Your friend--Oh! Forgive me! I'm so sorry. He's your brother, isn't he?" Skaviar put an ironic emphasis on the last two words, and finished with a warm smile. Althemen's scowl deepened.

"As I was saying," Skaviar continued blithely on, "your... brother... Alnevar has already informed me of your current objective, and I'd like to help, as it will further my own mission."

"We don't need help," Althemen said bluntly. "We're fully capable of completing our set task without the aid of a lapdog like you."

"My, my, Althemen, are you still sore over what happened all those years ago?"

"My life was already a living Hell, Skaviar, but somehow you found a way to destroy even that. 'Sore' doesn't begin to describe it."

"You need to work on your people skills, Althemen. You have enough enemies as it is without making more. Now, I'm going to make my offer again, and I trust you'll accept. Althemen, Alnevar here has informed me as to what you're doing here, and I would like to aid you in that. You'll allow me to do that. Won't you?"

Althemen narrowed his eyes.

"You see, Skaviar, intimidation doesn't work on me."

Skaviar smiled. "Of course not. But I know something that will work on you. Would you like me to try it?"

Althemen paled visibly. He snarled. "Fine," he snapped. "Then get your ass moving."

Skaviar laughed as he swept past Althemen out of the room. "And you said intimidation doesn't work on you," he said quietly as he passed the Warlord Prince. Althemen clenched and unclenched his fists.

He looked up to see Alnevar, sitting in the same chair he'd been sitting in since Althemen had entered the room.

Althemen stared at Alnevar. Something was different about him. Something Althemen didn't like. Well, he'd always hated the scheming bastard, but something else was different. His insides grew cold. He spun around and grabbed Skaviar. "What did you do to Alnevar?" he demanded.

"Hm? Oh, nothing to worry about. But you two might get along better now that you have something in common."

Althemen was only vaguely aware of letting go of Skaviar as the room spun.

Alnevar? Alnevar was like him now. No, no, a thousand times no, this could not have happened. Everything would be ruined if--

"Althemen, are you okay?" Satiyen sounded worried. Althemen shook his head violently and looked at Satiyen.

"I'm fine," he said quietly. "Go find Anna. I'll catch up in a few minutes."

Satiyen stared at Althemen for a long time.

"I need to talk with Alnevar," Althemen said. "Please, Satiyen."

Satiyen finally nodded and turned. "Well? Let's get moving."

Althemen closed the door once he was certain they were gone and turned to Alnevar.

"Did you know what he was doing while he did it?" he said flatly.

Alnevar nodded. "Yeah. But I couldn't do anything."

"Mm. Like you would've."

Alnevar growled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"All right, Alnevar, I'm sick of your aggravating ignorance as to the situation, and now that you're like me, you need to know what's going on anyway."

"What?"

"Shut up and listen, Alnevar. I'm not going to tell this story twice. The first thing you need to know is this: What Skaviar is, what he made you, I am also. We are now the same. The second thing you need to know is that my age is not one thousand years. I'm closer to three thousand. And, as you may have guessed from my recent… slips," he said with distaste, because in all actuality he was disgusted with himself for letting the secret show like that, "I'm not your brother. We're not related. You and I have been living a lie for the past thousand years. And you, Alnevar, are just as old as I am."

"What? Althemen, this doesn't make any sense."

"It will soon enough."

---

As the Kjerans held him down, Alnevar looked to the one person he could hope to get help from--Althemen. But the man simply stared at Alnevar coldly while Sesven strapped him down.

"One thing is a definite," Sesven said ironically. "You'll never cause us any trouble again."

Althemen cut in. "We both know, Sesven, that Menteur is not the reason we're doing this to him."

"And we both also know, Althemen, that you're a good friend of Menteur as well as a trusted agent of this organization, and that by doing what he did to you, he may as well have spat on Menteur's shoes."

Althemen lowered his gaze to the half-conscious man now restrained completely, staring up at him, his eyes showing nothing but fear and confusion.

"You had your chance to redeem yourself after what you did," Althemen said, struggling to keep his voice calm, "and you passed it by. I'm sorry, Alnevar, but I can't forgive you. And at this point, my forgiveness wouldn't save you anyway."

"I told you, Althemen, please, I didn't know! How could I have known? She never said anything--"

"Stop it," Althemen said suddenly. "Stop begging, Alnevar. It doesn't suit you."

"Althemen, I'm honestly apologizing! What more can you want?"

Althemen slammed his hand onto the table inches from Alnevar's head. The trapped man flinched.

"You think apologizing will undo the damage you've done? I hate you, Alnevar. I hate you more than you can ever understand."

"That's just it, Althemen, I don't understand. Please, just explain this to me, I want to know--I want to make it right!"

"You can't make it right. At this point, I don't think anyone can. I have nothing more to say to you." He turned. The Kjerans and Sesven approached Alnevar. Althemen left the room, ignoring Alnevar's screams as he went.

---

"I'm sorry, Althemen."

"I've had enough of apologies!" Althemen burst out angrily. "In the past few days, it seems all anyone's done is apologize to me!"

Menteur pursed his lips. "Perhaps it is because we feel you have been wronged."

"Yes, I have been wronged, but not by you, Lord. I require no apologies, nor do I desire any. I just want to return to my old way of living."

"Althemen, I have received several suggestions, and I agree with them. I think that in the interest of the workings of this organization, you should take a week or so for yourself. I have arranged so that your absence will not be a problem."

Althemen shook his head. "I'll get over this more quickly and effectively, Lord, if I am given work to take my mind off of it."

Menteur sighed. "Althemen, we've found out what Alnevar was up to."

"I already know."

"Then you know that we can't allow him to continue in our service."

"That seems obvious to me."

Menteur took a deep breath. "We're going to clear his mind of any memories of his life here, and alter some of his memories. We're going to place him in Terreille."

"You'll need someone to keep an eye on him, in case the memory wipe is incomplete, or something else goes wrong."

"Yes. We will."

Althemen sucked in a deep breath. "No. No, I'm not."

"No one else has the background you do, Althemen. You're the only one we can use."

"There must be someone else suitable for the job, Lord. I can't go."

"Althemen, we're sending someone else as well. Someone whose memory had to be cleared and altered."

Althemen's eyes widened. "Surely, you don't mean…"

"Tesora."

---

Althemen stared at Tesora, his throat tight. He knew, damn it, he knew she didn't know who he was, but he couldn't help it. This was the woman he'd once loved, the woman he'd asked to marry him, and behind his back, Alnevar had destroyed everything. Stupid winged fool.

The thought of Alnevar's wings reminded Althemen of his own charade. The wings on his back that he'd shaped from his own substance after the procedure. They were laughable, miniature things; they were the biggest wings he could form without diminishing his own size by using substance from his own body. With practice and time, he could learn to pull substance from the air around to make real wings, but as Menteur had made painfully obvious, they didn't have time. So Althemen played the part of unfortunate, small-winged half-Eyrien as he met Tesora for what was for neither of them the first time, but felt, to him, likeit was. Tesora was, after all, a different woman.

"What's wrong, Althemen?" Tesora said, tilting her head slightly to the side.

"Nothing, Mother," he said hastily, turning away. Damn it. All of this, this chaos, this mess, it could all have been prevented if Alnevar…

He stood up and left the room, unable to stay in the room any longer.

---

Alnevar stared at Althemen, his eyes wide. He didn't remember a single one of the events Althemen detailed, but under present circumstances, believing him was all he could do. "Althemen, I never--I am so sorry, Althemen."

Althemen smiled bitterly. "Of course. Just as you said back then. But I've had plenty of time to get over it, Alnevar, and I understand that… you might have done things differently given a second chance. I still don't like you, but I can put that aside for now."

Alnevar shook his head. "If what you say is true, then I'm just like you now."

"Yes. But reshaping your body takes practice, which we can work on later. For now, we have to catch up with the others. And Alnevar--"

"Yeah?"

"This conversation never happened. While we were in here, I was making sure Skaviar didn't hurt you. All right?"

"Sure thing."

---

"Alnevar's been informed of his and Althemen's past. It is likely that now that he's been told, as well as because of Skaviar making him a rubis, the memory alterations made will weaken and falter."

"He will remember everything."

"Most likely."

"That can't be allowed to happen."

"Of course, Lord."

"He'll have to be disposed of."

"It will be done."