Two - Arkarian

"Isabel? Isabel!"

Isabel launches herself upright, sending my book flying out of my hands and her forehead smacking into my chin. She hunches over, breathing hard and visibly shaking. I put one arm around her and try to subtly rub my chin as I comfort her, spreading a wave of calm washing through her through my free hand.

"Isabel? What's wrong? What happened?"

It's a long while before she answers me, and even then her breath is still ragged. "Did you see that?"

"See what?"

"My vision," she replies, turning her head to look at me. My heart breaks as I see she looks terrified. I hope my face isn't betraying my concern. Normally Isabel's visions storm not only through her mind, but also the mind of any Truthseer nearby who's not actively suppressing their powers - usually myself. Keeping her thoughts screened is nearly impossible when the pain of a vision hits.

"I'm sorry, Isabel. I didn't see anything," I confess, keeping my hand rubbing in soothing circles on her back.

"I felt like I was burning… no, I was burning… there was this light, Arkarian, and it was all around me and…" Isabel trails off as tears begin to well in her eyes. I pull her close to me, abandoning my surely-bruised chin, and envelop her in a tight embrace as she begins to cry.

"You're ok, Isabel," I whisper in her ear. "You're safe."

"I've never watched myself die before. I didn't know I would feel it," she sobs into my shoulder.

I clutch her even tighter and ask the question I want to know the answer to the least: "Do you know when?" She shakes her head. "Well," I continue evenly, "your vision could be centuries from now. It may never even happen - remember Laura?"

Her sobs eventually slow as I begin to rock her slowly in my arms. After several minutes, Isabel whispers to me in the tiniest voice. "Don't let me burn, Arkarian."

"I won't," I reassure her. And I mean it. I will stop at nothing to make sure that Isabel's vision never comes to pass. "Can you show me what you saw?"

There's a long pause whilst Isabel gathers herself. Eventually, she nods and opens her thoughts to me. The vision takes place entirely from Isabel's point of view, and it only really consists of bright lights getting closer and closer to her skin. She tells me with her thoughts, but I don't feel myself, that the lights are burning hot. I hear my own voice cry out Isabel's name, presumably from when she became unresponsive in my lap when I tried to talk to her, and the vision ends. I let out a deep breath and pull her closer to me.

"We should tell the Tribunal tonight," Isabel says, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"We will. I promise you, Isabel, I won't let anything happen to you." I pull away from her and gently take her face in my hands, wiping away the remnants of her tears with my thumbs. Her face is blotchy and her eyes are full of worry, but despite it all, she's still the most beautiful person I've ever seen. I force a small smile onto my face and kiss her on the tip of her nose, a move that makes her giggle.

My stomach is in knots as we prepare for bed early. I slip away briefly to my central chamber to open a portal between here and Athens, and take the brief moment alone to sag against the console, finally sliding down until I'm sat on the floor. Grief washes over me wave after wave, and suddenly I find myself holding back tears of my own. The prospect of losing Isabel is too much to bear. I've lost too many people in my life, and I don't know if I could cope to lose the most important one.

I wish Lorian was here.

This thought takes me by surprise. Would Lorian really know what to do now? He made so many mistakes in his long life, and we're still picking up the pieces of many of them. Perhaps I am still no better than the child I was when I first joined the Guard - crying out for an absent father, for someone to guide me for once, rather than having to stumble blindly along on my own. Ironic that the only father figure I had in my life turned out to be the absent parent I was struggling so much without.

And now you're losing the family you finally managed to forge.

Lorian is dead. Three members of the Tribunal - Sir Syford, Meridian, and Lady Devine - some of my only life-long friends and colleagues, are also dead. The Atlanteans have also moved on to the afterlife. Ethan has completely withdrawn within himself, and Shaun, sick with worry for his son, can only send me short messages with Jimmy. Matt, apparently my only blood family in this realm, only tolerates me for Isabel's sake. If something happened to her I can only begin to imagine Matt's wrath. And Isabel… she's had to watch herself die. Her worst fear has been realised.

Since Isabel's vision of Ethan's mother attempting to kill herself, she has lived in fear of seeing the end of someone else's life. I don't think anyone had even considered that it would be her own. A sick feeling creeps over me as I remember one crucial point - Isabel's visions have never been too far in the future. Whatever the threat on her life may be, it's most likely imminent.

I realise I'm crying now, tears spilling down my cheeks. I'm glad Isabel is taking a shower, I don't want her to worry about me any more than she already is. My love is a master at hiding her thoughts most of the time, but the rare glimpses I have had have been worrying. Her mind can do next to nothing but dwell on the distress of everybody around her. I wipe my eyes on my sleeves and haul myself up off of the ground. I have to be strong for Isabel. Luckily for me, I've always found it easy to disguise my feelings. I am a master of self-suppression.

Isabel is just wandering out of the bathroom when I get back out into the hallway, wrapped in a large white towel and skin pink from the heat of the water, wet hair plastered to her shoulders and back. She looks breathtaking. She gives me a tentative smile and I hold up two vials of sleep potion for her to see.

"We should get going to Athens as soon as we can," I say, handing her one. "The portal will open in an hour."

"Are you sure this is what you want?" she asks, pushing my bedroom door open.

"If it meant we could get help, I would cut my fingers off one by one."

"Wow… that's… violent… are you ok?" Isabel looks as shocked as I am at my words. I'm being over-dramatic. I don't feel exactly like myself right now.

"I'm sorry, that was unnecessarily morbid," I say, reaching over to give her free hand a squeeze. She stares hard into my eyes, trying to get a read on me. Unsuccessful, she drops my hand and looks away. My words have only made her worry even more.

"Let's just go to bed," she says as she retrieves her spare pajamas from a chest of drawers next to the door. She doesn't look at me as she steps behind a screen in the corner to change.

Whilst she gets changed, I grab my own night clothes and change into them. Isabel thinks my night clothes hilarious, but she's getting used to them. I wear a loose fitting linen shirt and soft trousers, which apparently makes me look like a Victorian farmer, but they're comfortable and warm and I like them. Just as I pull the shirt over my head, Isabel steps out from behind the screen and throws her clothes into her backpack.

"Hey," she says, grabbing my hand. "I'm sorry for freaking out on you, I'm just really shaken up right now."

"And I'm sorry for being so grim. It's the last thing you need right now." I lift her hand to my lips and kiss her palm.

"It's not your fault. I'm being over-sensitive."

"No, it really is."

"Don't be silly, Kar. It's entirely on me."

"Isabel, I-" Isabel cuts me off with a kiss. It's soft and sweet, and an excellent distraction. We pull apart but lean our foreheads against the other's. For a few wonderful moments, everything in my line of vision is her warm brown eyes, and my thoughts are about nothing but when I can kiss her again.

"Bed," she says simply, and pulls me in that direction.

Sharing a bed is something I haven't really done in at least fifty years, until Isabel. There's something comforting about being able to feel the weight of a person next to you whilst you sleep, and I'm glad to have someone with me again. The only downside is having to reteach myself to stay on one side of the bed. Isabel always sleeps on the left-hand side, which I thought would be something that wouldn't affect me much. That was, until I rolled over two nights ago clean onto the floor. I have yet to live it down. I sigh as Isabel jokingly lays some spare pillows on the floor on the right-hand side of the bed.

"What?" she asks innocently. "I just don't want you to hurt yourself!"

"That was one time!"

"Suuuuure it was."

She smirks as she climbs under the covers. I join her and pull her back flush against me - 'spooning', she once called it.

"Arkarian?"

"Yes?"

"We need to drink our potions."

"I know, I just wanted to lie with you for a short while first," I confess. She shuffles backwards and closer to me instinctively, and wraps her arms around mine.

"I'm still messed up. About earlier," she says.

"I know. I would be too."

"I guess I just have to stay out of caves and everything will be fine."

"Isabel?"

"Yeah?"

"My chambers are technically a cave."

"Ah."

"We should take that potion now."

"Yeah, we really should."

Isabel props herself up on one arm and reaches over to grab her vial from the bedside table, and I twist around to grab my own. She clinks her vial against mine before drinking, a playful smile on her lips. At least she looks to be a little better. We lie back down together, this time with Isabel's head on my chest. I run my fingers through her hair absent-mindedly, and wait for sleep to take me.

I don't even realise I've drifted off until I land firmly on my feet in one of the few temporary rooms erected in what used to be the Citadel. Outside the door will be a small corridor with small holding rooms along each side, ending in a platform that is currently permanently stationed over Athens, our destination. My mind still struggles with the idea of the Citadel, my home for almost six centuries, being reduced to just a tiny jumble of hastily-erected rooms and a corridor. I will always remember its endless sprawl and splendour, so much of which I still never got around to seeing. There were indoor farms that for all intents and purposes would make you believe that you were truly outside in the fresh air, with rolling fields as far as the eye could see. There were whole apartments, arranged into distinct districts that housed the thousands of Atlanteans and myself. Not to mention the rooms that were just strange , seemingly serving no purpose at all other than to be there to cause discomfort and annoyance. One of my more embarrassing memories of the Citadel is the first mission Isabel and I had together, when it was apparently deemed necessary to put us alone together in a room with a gigantic heart-shaped bed. Subtle.

As if summoned by my thoughts, Isabel suddenly appears next to me, sticking her landing well. I give her a brief kiss by way of greeting, and motion to the lonely mirror stood in the corner, slightly cracked along the edges and the only piece of furniture present in this empty space. Wordlessly, we go over and stand in front of it, the mirror changing our respective nightclothes into tunics more suitable to be walking around ancient Athens in.

"They've changed the colours again," Isabel murmurs, picking at her top. I note with satisfaction that she is now clad in the same silver as myself, only now with new additions for both of us of golden belts.

"I expect the Named will all have the same colours now," I remark. "We're receiving the highest honours short of being on the Tribunal."

My tunic has been silver for centuries now, a reflection of my high status as Head Administrator, but the golden cord is new, something I have only seen previously on Neriah, who was destined to be a future Tribunal member. I wonder idly if Matt has a new plan for the Named moving forward. Isabel, usually clad in pure white with a blue belt, symbolising her status as a healer, looks dazzling in her new tunic, the golden belt tying in nicely with her blonde hair.

"You look beautiful," I say, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

"Yeah, I know," she replies with a grin. "Come on, let's get out of here."

We walk out of the room and down the stark white corridor to the very end, which to the untrained eye looks like a thick fog. Far below us, but apparently not so far that Isabel's enhanced sight can't make it out, lies Athens in the year 461 BC, a city just heading into its golden age.

"I always hate this part," Isabel mutters, clutching my hand and peering out over the edge.

"And here I was thinking that you were 'the fearless one'."

"I'm not scared!" Isabel fires back. "I just have a bit of verti-whatsit."

"Vertigo. And that's not what vertigo is."

"Whatever." She squeezes my hand tighter and screws her eyes closed. "Let's just do this."

Still holding hands, we step out into empty space and almost immediately stumble into a serene courtyard. Isabel staggers a little bit and bumps into me, and I feign a dramatic fall to the floor, pulling her down with me.

"Now why would you do that to me?" I ask playfully, my face arranged into the picture of innocence.

She giggles and swats my arm lightly. "Keep messing around and I'll do a lot worse." Her face falls again and she glances around. "We should probably find a member of the Tribunal before we do anything else."

I nod silently. The courtyard we've arrived in is one of many, but has always been my favourite. It borders the Tribunal members' private chambers and the more public Guard headquarters - few ever have a reason to set foot here. It's where the bulk of my training, largely meditation in the early years, took place.

This thought sends my head spinning again as I reflect back on the two hundred years I spent as Lorian's apprentice. All those years spent not knowing that my father was inches away - teaching me how to hold a sword, how to control my powers, how to read and write and speak new languages. A gentle hand rests on my knee - its Isabel, eyes full of concern once more.

"Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine. I wasn't anticipating so many memories to come flooding back," I say, standing upright and helping her up off of the ground at the same time.

Together, we head towards the foyer of the Tribunal members' chambers. I reach for the door, but it opens in front of me and Brystianne walks straight into me, followed closely by two members of her House Guard.

"Arkarian? Arkarian!"

Suddenly I'm blinded by blonde hair and golden fabric as Brystianne throws her arms around me and pulls me into a tight embrace.

"I'm so glad to see you at last!" Brystianne enthuses as she pulls away to look at me. She looks tired, but otherwise well, and is draped in slightly less finery than usual. Her gaze slides from me over to Isabel, and I'm surprised when she pulls her into an equally ferocious hug. "Isabel! It hasn't been the same without you here!"

"Um… thank you?" Isabel says, her voice muffled by Brystianne's robes.

"It has been far too long. It will be good to have you here for a few days again," Brystianne says, relinquishing her grasp on Isabel and beaming at both of us. Behind her, her two guards shuffle awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

"Actually we were intending on a slightly more extended stay this time," I say. "I know there is a lot of work that still needs to be done, and I have many updates on salvage progress for the Tribunal." It's not a total lie, but I'm not quite sure why I do not tell Brystianne to summon the Tribunal there and then. My stomach is in knots and the words won't come out. It strikes me that I'm actually afraid , as if acknowledging Isabel's vision will doom her forever.

Brystianne, as always, seems aware that I'm holding something back. Her gaze slides over to Isabel, and then back to me again, her expression smoothing out into thoughtfulness. I feel a gentle prying at the edge of my mind as she tries to probe at my thoughts, but I've been concealing them for far too many centuries now to buckle that easily.

"Queen Brystianne, we need to speak with all available Tribunal members as soon as we can," Isabel says, voice even and carrying a weight that feels as though it doesn't belong to her. I turn to see her stood bolt upright, shoulders back, and jaw set in determination. It seems that she has decided to face this head-on. I admire her.

I have never thought myself to be a coward, but in contrast to Isabel's unerring bravery I must look one. Many times before I have wished to be more decisive, to face anything that comes my way head-on, but I always find myself wanting to take a step back and over-examine every move that I make. Isabel and I compliment each other wonderfully in that way. I am restraint and moderation whilst she is unbridled passion and defiance.

"Something has happened?" Brystianne asks as she waves her guards back inside, presumably to summon the other Tribunal members.

"Not yet," Isabel says, expression unreadable.

Brystianne nods and glances over to the opposite doors, the ones that lead to the headquarters and moreover, to the central meeting chamber.

"Give us a few moments. We will be there," Brystianne says, before using her wings and vanishing in front of our eyes.

As I make to walk over to the headquarters, Isabel reaches out and grabs my arm, stopping me mid-stride.

"Kar," she says, voice barely above a whisper. "I'll be ok."

I force a smile to my face. "I know you will. That doesn't make me worry any less, though."

"You told me that some Tribunal members have been around for hundreds of thousands of years. Someone is bound to know what that light is."

"I'm sure you're right." She releases her grip on my arm and slides her own arm through mine.

We turn and walk across the courtyard and through the headquarters hallways to the central meeting chamber. We stop briefly outside the ornate doors and I hear a flurry of activity within.

"Ready?" I ask.

Isabel takes a deep breath in and nods once, then pushes the door open.

Everyone available is seated in their usual seats around the room, four now conspicuously empty. A hush descends as Isabel and I walk into the centre of the room. Everyone looks exhausted, I notice, not one face unmarred my dark circles under eyes and even the enormous Lord Penbarin looks thinner. It's Penbarin who speaks first.

"Isabel. Arkarian. It's good to see you both." He gestures over to my father's former seat and I try to ignore the stabbing feeling that suddenly hits me in the gut. "Isabel, we were unable to contact your brother at such short notice, but if you prefer we can wait for him and Lady Neriah to be raised."

Isabel shakes her head. "Thank you, my lord, but no. I think it's better that I speak to my brother myself. Besides, it will do him good to get a solid night's sleep for once."

A small ripple of laughter goes around the room at Isabel's last comment. Isabel has always been well-liked amongst the Tribunal, her sheer force of personality frankly impossible to dislike. She has always been charming, and her concern for her brother is only more endearing.

"Queen Brystianne said that you needed to speak with us?" King Richard asks from my left.

"We do," I confirm with a nod. "Isabel has had a vision, and it is… troubling."

Isabel clears her throat and opens her mind, projecting her vision outwards. The room goes deadly quiet as the Tribunal process what they are seeing. Long after Isabel's vision fades, the stillness remains.

"You believe that to be your own point of view?" Penbarin asks with a frown.

"I do, my lord."

"And that light, it burnt you?"

"Not that I actually saw, but I could feel that it would as soon as it touched me."

The room goes quiet again and for a moment I think that the Tribunal must be communicating via their thoughts, but I can't hear anything. Everyone seems lost within their own minds.

"If I may…" comes a quiet voice from behind me. I turn to see Lady Arabella, potentially looking the worst out of everyone present, her usual blue-tinged skin a sickly green. She's gaunt, and I wonder when was the last time she ate. "Isabel could you please show me that one more time?"

Isabel nods and airs the vision again, and this time Lady Arabella frowns.

"Those lights… they're… familiar. But I can't place from where," she says, leaning back in her seat. She rubs her temples and lets her eyes flutter closed. "No… I can't seem to recall…"

"It's okay, Lady Arabella," Isabel says softly. "I just… thought you should all be aware."

"Isabel, you must forgive me. I know I have seen lights like that before, but to be honest I think everyone here is feeling somewhat exhausted at present. I will think on this, and get back to you," Lady Arabella replies with a weak smile.

If anyone on the Tribunal were to recognise anything, it makes sense that it would be Lady Arabella - she is the oldest amongst the current Tribunal members, descended directly from an Atlantean ambassador who married a northern magician in times before the Guard was even created. Whilst Lady Arabella is unable to wield magic herself, the presence of magic in her bloodline has made her powers unusually strong, and her affinity with ice and the cold has spread through her very being. She was the first Tribunal member ever appointed, if I remember correctly, but I'm not completely certain. There is so much that I don't know about her, upon reflection. Her undying love for my father always put distance between them, and, by proxy, us. However, I have always considered her to be amongst the gentlest people I know, and it was her who gave me the ability to remain calm and in control of my own emotions. It's an ability that many have been surprised to find I have over the years, but back then I could be somewhat hotheaded and quick to anger. Tranquility has proved itself to be one of my most useful gifts over the years. Lady Arabella has always had a keen insight into the gifts people need the most.

"In the meantime," Penbarin cuts in, "under normal circumstances we would order a protective detail on you, Isabel. However, you find yourself already surrounded on a daily basis with the best and brightest the Guard has to offer, not to mention your own impressive skillset."

Murmurs of agreement echo around the room and Penbarin waits for silence before he continues.

"I would suggest taking full advantage of your friends and family, and don't let yourself be isolated from others. How is the development of your second skill fairing?"

I grimace, but I hope Isabel doesn't see. Since the enhancement of the Named's skills, Isabel's psychic abilities have been wildly unpredictable. We have been working hard to harness her ability's limitless potential, but with mixed results.

"Progress is slow, my lord," Isabel replies. "I can project warnings and thoughts well enough, but only to truthseers with complete accuracy. Non-truthseers tend to either drop like stones when I send them a message, or get nothing at all." Her last sentence reminds me of an afternoon of what should have been physical training, when Isabel experimented with her powers whilst I was sparring with Ethan. Isabel's goal was to use her ability to peer into the near-future, predict my movements, and then pass them on to Ethan. She struggled only a little with predicting my movements, which was of no consequence considering Ethan wanted to spar anyway. Disaster truly struck when she finally got 'into the zone' and tried to send what she saw over to Ethan. The assault on Ethan's mind sent him stumbling, and directly into my oncoming fist, breaking his nose. Isabel was distraught the whole time she was healing him, but Ethan luckily found humour in the situation.

"Maybe you can just blast people's brains in your next fight, you wouldn't have to lift a finger!" he had chuckled, clutching a rag to his face to stem the flow of blood.

"Isabel's visions are still unpredictable as well, my lord," I chime in. "She can look into the near-future if she uses her full focus, but she can only see a few minutes ahead at best. She is still struggling to block out incoming visions, as well."

"They still hurt like a bitch, too."

Isabel's comment has everyone smiling. I'm glad she hasn't taken my honest assessment personally. In time, Isabel's psychic powers could be a force to be reckoned with, but for now there is much work to be done on tempering and refining them.

"Well, the best advice I can offer in that case is to send word to Lord Matthew or Lady Neriah if you find yourself in trouble. I'm sorry that is the best we can offer until we can find out more about what you saw."

"That is not entirely true, Lord Penbarin." It's King Richard again, only when I look over at him he is now on his feet, rolling up his sleeves. "This was meant to be a surprise, and no doubt I will get into trouble for revealing this early, but I'm sure Lord Matthew will grant me a pardon if this can keep you safe."

He walks over to Isabel and clasps one of her hands between his.

"Your highness?" Isabel asks, confused. Once again, her unwillingness to accept any praise or reward means she's blind to what's coming.

"I was not present for your induction into the Guard Isabel, nor was I for your Arkarian. Which means I find myself owing both of you a gift. Arkarian, I beg your forgiveness but I have yet to decide what to give you. For you, however, Isabel, I have already spoken with your brother and we have agreed what the best reward for all of your hard work and bravery would be," King Richard says, smiling at both of us in turn.

I feel a wide smile spread across my face and see all of the Tribunal members in my line of vision are smiling too - Elenna has even begun to preemptively clap lightly.

"Isabel Becket, on behalf of the House of Veridian, I am proud to award you with your wings."