Because I like timelines:
Day One: Chapters 2-5
Day Three: Chapter 6
Day Four: Chapters 7 & 8
Day Five: Chapters 9-12
Day Six: Chapters 13-Present
Marik shot towards his stricken son as Tybalt frantically commanded Oleic and Tristram (however only the former did so) to go to the Airship, as neither Hierarch could leave Alex's side without the corruption overwhelming the boy's fragile resistance. The king grimly assessed the awful state of his eldest, not wanting to move him and cause his son more pain but knowing that he would have to. Aretis bowed his head and moved to the side, all sarcasm and arrogance gone in the face of the prince's wounding, and Marik hooked one arm under his son's legs and the other behind his chest, lifting the teenager off the ground. The boy gasped in pain, coughing up some more of the tar-like substance, and Marik noted how Caiellis tenderly soothed the older boy, wiping him with a bit fabric that he had torn off from his own clothes (which the king noticed were of Welkalite design), tears appearing at the corner of his eyes also.
Cai glanced up at his father, getting to his feet also and disregarding how faint he felt, but the man didn't look back, his austere features intently focussed on the Yentarian vehicle a couple of hundred metres away. A shudder of fear went down the boy's spine as he realised just how scared his father was, as although the king was putting on a brave face he was clearly terrified of losing his older son's life. He let go of Alex's hand as their dad began to swiftly carry him away, feeling as if he should remain next to his older brother but thinking that he would probably just get in the way, as he had done his entire life.
Tristram ran alongside the desperate father and magically-attuned Light-bearers, the need to protect Alexander burning strong within his breast as well, when he detected something strange. He abruptly turned around and his eyes landed upon the youngest Lucerna, who stood in the darkness, alone. Caiellis looked pale and lost, fragile like an abandoned child, and the Guardian's heart ached for the kid. He quickly made his way to the boy, grabbing his shoulders and forcefully, but still gently, leading him in the direction of the Airship.
"Come on," he encouraged, half-carrying the boy back to the vehicle as he stumbled. The bandage around his leg needed to be replaced, the white cloth now stained a deep crimson, but both Lucaelians knew it could wait until they ensured that Alex was safe.
Only a few seconds after the king and the Hierarchs embarked, Tristram and Caiellis clanged up the ramp and into the main deck. Oleic had managed to input the correct instructions to release a temporary medical bay, and Marik was currently in the process of manoeuvring his son onto it with Aretis's help, trying not to cause the boy any more torment than was necessary. The facility was not sufficient to fully cure Alexander, but could at least aid in stabilising his condition in the short journey to Civitas Sol, where the city's Guardian had already contacted the doctors and healers. Tristram may despise the other warrior, but while they disagreed on almost everything the Capitalia Lux Guardian had to admire the man's precise organisational skills.
Marik ran his fingers through his son's spiky blonde hair, so much like his own, to comfort his half-conscious eldest, who alternated between whimpers and gasps, as well as check for any potential fractures. Satisfied, he began to use some of the bandages that came out of a compartment to the left of the bed, to see if he could stem the bleeding of some of the more brutal wounds – he knew that they would have to remove them so that Alex could be purified of the vampire's curse, but the boy was laying in his own blood as the rapidly blackening scarlet liquid poured out onto the bed.
The man instantly spun around when he heard footsteps behind him, and sighed in relief when it was only Tristram and a distant-looking and frightened Caiellis. His mind suddenly came to the awareness that he had totally forgotten about his youngest, as the boy wasn't as injured as his older sibling but would still be terrified by the turn of events. Marik's blue eyes met Tristram's, and the Guardian nodded his head solemnly as the king's orbs conveyed his gratitude.
Cai's gaze then met his – the younger boy looked scared, but his green irises were filled with guilt and Marik was sure he hadn't entirely managed to keep an accusatory glint out of his stare. He steeled himself – there would be time to talk about things like that later, but right now his eldest needed his help, and Caiellis gratefully nodded his understanding. Marik reminded himself that as well as battling with Aksua, his sons had escaped from Usnaan within a day, so would be exhausted – highlighted aptly by the gloomy bangs underneath Cai's expressive eyes that looked ten times larger in his sadness, making him look more like a five year old than a...wait, what am I thinking? He looks exactly like a thirteen year old should.
He cast a furious glance into the pilot chamber when the Airship rocked, juddering as it set off and making Alex's head almost slam into the metal wall beside the bed, which it would have done if Marik wasn't still subconsciously stroking his hair. Evidently the vampire had been lying about not preventing them from leaving, and as he suspected the Airship was able to take off without her interference. Marik pondered getting something to cover up his son's bare chest with, but as his hands moved over the boy's abs Alex cried out in pain. The king gently prodded, realising that many of his son's ribs were broken and would be causing him a lot of pain, although there was nothing to be done about that apart from waiting for them to heal.
Alexander coughed and spluttered more of the viscous black liquid that would no doubt be clogging his lungs, and Marik suddenly decided that he would be better off sat up.
"Caiellis," he said, and his youngest snapped to attention, "You and Tristram help me move Alex to sit up, in order to clear his airways so he can breathe better."
The younger boy nodded for a second, then confusion creased his youthful face.
"Wait, won't that just damage his ribs more?" he asked, "I didn't," his voice took on a melancholy ring, the tone infused with self-loathing, "see Aksua break them, so I don't know how damaged they are, but is making him sit up really worth the pain?"
"You of all people should know how unpleasant it is to have your oxygen cut off," Marik replied, and Cai's face fell as he remembered the fateful events that had led to this – it was his weakness that had caused the brothers to be kidnapped, just as it was his weakness that had allowed Alexander to get hurt. "Plus, if we do it properly he won't feel much."
Cai, his dad and the Capitalia Lux Guardian went to hoist him up, but when the older boy whimpered in pain and groaned loudly at the strain on his broken ribcage, Caiellis backed away.
"I can't do it..." he whispered, looking up at his frustrated father and feeling disgusted with himself, but he wasn't able to be the cause of any more of his big brother's suffering. Marik glowered for a second and sighed exasperatedly, "Fine. Tristram and I shall do it ourselves. Make yourself useful and try to find some rubbing alcohol, something to numb the pain. While Tybalt and Aretis are healing him, they are mostly concentrating on stopping the advance of the corruption, and so your brother will still be in immense pain."
"How long until we reach Civitas Sol?!" he roared when Caiellis started opening different drawers in a frantic search for something to ease Alexander's agony. He hadn't actually meant to shout the words, but agitation for his son had twisted the question into a shout that made him sound terrifying.
"Approximately five minutes, lord," Oleic answered, his voice level. "Make it three!" Marik shouted back when his son let out another groan of pain, hacking up some more black blood. His eyes promptly opened, the startled blue orbs full of confusion and pain, glazed over like he had a fever – Marik didn't discount the possibility of that, but they presently had more pressing concerns.
"Alex, we are on the way back to Civitas Sol. You are in a grave state, but with the help of professionals I'm sure you'll pull through," Marik informed him, and then, wishing he hadn't been so cold or dispassionate, added: "I'm proud of what you did today – escaping from Welkas within a day! You are a strong lad, and although I know you're in a lot of pain but we will help you get through it."
The boy started to nod but stopped when it was unnecessarily painful – he couldn't recall his neck being injured, but then again pain was periodically sweeping through his entire body. He felt really weak, and Alex knew he would fade back into unconsciousness soon so made sure to get his priorities right before he did so. Marik saw the boy's lips moving, though no sound came out, and asked: "Are you having trouble breathing? Is there anything we can do?"
Alex shook his head – yes, his lungs and throat felt like they were on fire but the fact that he was sat up was relieving some of the strain on his congested airways, and he needed to do something before he was dragged back into the realm of sleep. It was irritating that he couldn't speak, so tried again.
"Cai..." a weak whisper that sounded alien to Alexander's ears emerged from his mouth, and he silently cursed at how pathetic he sounded. He couldn't argue with the fact that he needed help, he just wished that his dad, Tybalt, Tristram and Aretis weren't all looking at him like he was a broken doll – he didn't want their sympathy, though he knew it was going to get worse when they got to the City of the Sun. The prince resolved to suck it up – yes, he may feel like his privacy was being breached but it was necessary for his recovery, and once he had recovered he could continue to protect his little brother.
From the other side of the passenger compartment, there was no way little Caiellis should have heard his brother's faint words; Marik had barely done so himself, but the boy's father gave a wry smile as his youngest's ears visibly pricked up from underneath his mop of dark hair. He stopped his frantic rummaging, selecting one of the medicine bottles and carrying it over to his older brother. Cai handed his father the rubbing alcohol and gently eased his brother's larger hand into his two.
"Please don't leave me Alex. I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you," he murmured out next to his brother's ear, tears once again surfacing in his wide eyes. Alexander fought to console his brother, tell him that he would never leave him even if the younger boy wanted him to, but he lacked the strength – he seemed to be getting weaker by the second. Instead, he managed to give a feeble wink in his little brother's direction. Marik watched on until that point, when he had to look away to compose himself, fighting to get himself under control again – his sons certainly didn't need him acting weak as well. The bond between his children was the strongest he had ever seen, even in the amount of pain his eldest was in, his first thought was still to comfort his younger sibling.
It seemed to affect Caiellis as well, but instead of being the catalyst for a fresh flood of tears the boy controlled himself, mustering up all his courage and self-control and giving his brother the most determined look he could come up with. Alexander needed to see him alright before he worried about himself, and so he would need to be strong, for his big brother's sake if not for his own.
"Alex. I'm not going to leave you," he declared, and the addressed almost thought he was going to stamp his foot in verification of the pronouncement – though he hadn't done that for many, many years.
The delirium of the vampire's magic was affecting him deeply, it seemed – Cai's battered but innocent visage was repeatedly replaced by one from their childhood, a much younger Caiellis superimposed over his brother's current state. He steeled himself, whether his little brother looked four or thirteen he would still be there to comfort him, and slowly and painfully moved his hand upwards. Sensing his brother's intent, Caiellis snorted quietly and bowed his head, allowing the hand to be placed atop his mop of brown hair, which his brother ruffled weakly. Had the scene taken place anywhere else, Marik would have found it quite funny, but now he could only think of it as extremely heart-warming.
He slipped back into the world of dreams, glad that he had at least been able to console Caiellis a tiny bit. His younger brother removed Alexander's hand from his head and then resumed squeezing it tightly, as Marik moved forwards to rub some of the numbing medicine onto the gaping wound in his eldest's chest, the one that had been inflicted when Aksua came to terms with that fact that her coveted prize would be denied.
After two more minutes of torture that felt like years for the king as his son's state worsened every second, Oleic outdoing himself, the Airship roughly landed, sending shuddering vibrations through all of them. The ramp burst open and a small team of medical staff instantaneously appeared at the bottom, attired in golden and warded uniforms that would protect them from potential corruption. Marik once again lifted his son into his arms, transferring him into a stretcher that one of the staff quickly wheeled round. Apart from a nod of reverence and respect the team gave him, no gestures or supplications were shown to the king – for that, he was extremely glad, as they were obviously trained enough to be more concerned about their patient than their ruler.
The operatives got to the side of the stretcher and started moving as fast as they could go without it being too dangerous, efficiently shooting down inside a large and ornate building adorned with the golden sun symbol of Civitas Sol and the Alpha Helix of the Ordo Medella, the order of healing that combined advances in technology with age-old magic to provide some of the greatest physicians the world had ever seen. Lucael wasn't a kingdom of barbarians, they didn't just solely utilise magic in a vain attempt to cure the afflicted like the Erian Conclave, but still understood the significance and power of rejuvenating spells so refused to rely on technology entirely, as with the Yentarian Republic.
Tristram could have snorted at his fellow Guardian's choice of landing – Oleic had literally dumped the vehicle onto one of the large balconies in the Ordo Medella's hospital in the City of the Sun. Marik charged alongside the stretcher and his eldest, the Hierarchs and Guardians on his heels, and Cai tried to run and keep up but instead trotted quickly as sprinting hurt too much – the wound on his leg was violently throbbing, and the bandage that Tristram had wrapped round it had stuck using the blood and was now in the process of painfully unravelling. Once again he ignored the pain and followed the party into a large room full of medical equipment, some of which he knew but others that he didn't, that were in the middle of being hooked and inserted into his brother. Alexander usually hated needles, but right now he really wasn't in the position to complain even if he was conscious.
"My lord, I need you to move from the operating theatre please," a clinical and stern voice ordered, and Marik furiously turned from his eldest son to the face of a grizzled doctor that reminded him quite a bit of his late father. The king stated: "He's my son. My place is by-."
"With respect, lord," the man interrupted, his authoritarian voice cutting out the king's emotional one and making Caiellis almost want to snigger if his brother wasn't so injured, "You are just going to get in the way, and time is of the essence if we are to save your son."
Marik looked as if he was about to protest again, before Tristram strode across the room and bodily dragged the older man towards a selection of chairs that would allow him to observe without obstructing the surgeons. The king pouted as he was forced into a chair, although his blue eyes showed that he was grateful for his battle brother removing him before he started an argument – he knew full well that he wouldn't be able to help the doctors.
Cai, who had stood in the doorway, crossed the threshold into the brightly, almost oppressively lit room (the boy already was aware that it would aid the Ordo members in their work, but it didn't make it any more inviting), sitting down next to his father, who didn't look up. His thin fingers reached out, almost instinctively grasping at his dad's hand before he pulled them away just as they were about to make contact, mulling over whether his desire for comfort was a good enough reason to break the man out of his silent reverie of intently staring at the operation, and deciding that it wasn't. Alex should be the focus of their dad's attention, the man shouldn't have to look after Cai, the one who had failed to protect his own brother – besides, his brother could die any second, despite him wanting to avoid the thought, so it was right that their father was concentrating on the older boy.
A fresh wave of guilt threatened to overwhelm him, and the boy huddled his thin knees up to his chest, wrapping small arms around them and staring at the frantic operation, one part of his mind wishing for Alex to stand up, tease him in that way that was so damn annoying but lovable at the same time, and embrace him in a bone-crushing hug, while the other coldly informed it that there was no possibility of that – even if his brother did survive the surgical intervention, he would probably drift between states of consciousness, though Caiellis was sure Alexander would still try to comfort him at his own expense.
His big brother didn't deserve to be hurt: he was the kindest, most selfless person in Cai's world, constantly looking out for and protecting his little brother, shoving away his own fears to better combat the youngest prince's. It was all so painfully logical to the thirteen year old, agonising clarity erupting in his mind – the reason the older boy was hurt was because Alexander was strong enough to push aside his concerns and sacrifice himself for him, while Cai had been too weak to do the same. Despite only remembering fragments of his illusion of a flawless family, Cai could recall with complete transparency that his big brother was the only member of the Lucerna family that had remained exactly the same: Emili had been alive while she was now dead; Marik had been happy and warm whereas in reality he was consumed by grief and cold; Johnias had been contented and loving whilst presently he was a horrific betrayer and brutal murderer; the unknown girl that had been his cousin birthed into the dream world when she really didn't exist – even through all that, Alexander's interpretation was identical to the real Alexander, staying his protector, best friend and the person he looked up to most. And now he was dying, and it was all because he was too weak to protect him, too fucking pathetic to guard the most precious thing in his short life.
"I'm sure your brother will be up and annoying the crap out of you soon," a voice, mostly stern but tinted with a glimmer of sympathy and love, snapped through his mind, and Cai looked up from where he had buried his head in his knees, shaking his head to get rid of the tears in his eyes and abruptly realising that they were cascading down his face, reacting with the Lucernan birthmark on his cheek in a riotous display of purple light, in spite of the fact that Caiellis couldn't call upon a drop of mana – he idly wondered why it did that, and resolved to ask Orzhova the next time he visited her, before pushing his mind out of the cycle of pointless thoughts and muses it often got into when something significant was occurring.
He glanced up, rubbing his eyes in a way that made him seem even younger, and was pleasantly surprised to see his father looking down at him, having expected one of his Uncles. The corners of the man's lips were almost imperceptibly twisted upwards, making his attempted parental smile look more like a grimace, while his large arm hesitantly moved around Caiellis's worryingly thin shoulders, hovering above them, not wanting to scare his youngest and remembering how he had reacted the first time he had tried physical contact with the boy after the war.
Marik's eyes systematically flicked between his eldest and youngest sons, simultaneously checking on the condition of both of them, but were filled with a paternal love that his uncharacteristically awkward actions could not capture. Cai felt more sadness flow through him despite the rare gesture of kindness and intimacy, and, sparing his father from the indecision of whether or not to touch his son by pushing his head into the man's muscled chest, a reassuring sensation that he had not felt since he was four rushing through him but still not pushing away the guilt, terror and sadness.
"Caiellis Noctis Lucerna. You never cease to surprise me," he said, hugging the boy close in what would have been an uncomfortable way had Cai not had to constantly deal with it from his older brother. He had been prepared for the younger boy to shy away, thoroughly taken aback by Caiellis's need for comfort. The man smiled as he enunciated the syllables of the boy's name – while Alexander had been picked by his mother, Caiellis had been chosen by the father. He still remembered the beautiful woman rolling her eyes in that attractive way when he told her the names he had come up with (though he supposed that Thaliecia wasn't the best female name he could have selected), jokingly saying: "Trust you to pick something over-complicated and sophisticated. I should never have promised to let you choose the name of our second child when I told you I was having them."
She had laughed even more when he had told her that there was no actual meaning behind the names, he had just come up with them and liked how they were pronounced. Neither could deny that it fitted with his middle name though: the first-born of every Lucerna ruler inherited the middle name of the monarch (Ensis for Marik and Alexander, which had also been the surname of his mother) whilst the second-born received the family name of their other parent as their own middle name. Subsequent children would have theirs picked from the vast range available from their ancestors in the Lucerna family, although understandably the most popular choice throughout the ages for a third child had been Ortus, middle name of the founder, though it was generally frowned upon to have more than two children – logic dictated that two was the perfect number, as there was a back up in case one was assassinated or the Death Vision of the preceding ruler chose a child that would be detrimental as a ruler, whilst still not too many to train in the ways of ruling.
Though being crowned king definitely did not mean that the person would be any more successful than their siblings – one tale that was often told was of two Lucerna brothers, Jaceon and Taris – the latter had become king, content to rule over the kingdom and maintain it, while his brother had taken the armies far out, carving out huge swathes of territory, destroying many nations that also resided in the darkness and used Black mana, eventually becoming more famous than the king. Marik remembered arguing with his brother (and more rarely his father) about that, debating that while Jaceon may have conquered new territories, expanding the kingdom, it had been his brother that maintained these cities, bringing them into the fold and ensuring that they didn't revolt, but of course he had been forgotten while his brother hogged all the glory.
As well as inheriting his mother's family name, Caiellis had evidently also derived his physical build from her – thin, with dark green eyes and wavy/curly brown hair, though he still had the high cheekbones of Marik whereas Alex had gained the more open features of Emili. He had often thought about Caiellis not receiving the traditional body structure of the Lucerna line – the hair and eye colour didn't matter, but the fact that he was small and thin instead of naturally tall and muscular could prove to have a negative effect on his combat abilities, before reminding himself of the few but still prominent rulers that had done extremely well without that.
This included Queen Arie, who seemed to be his youngest's inspiration - that was why he was glad he had chosen the sword, as after that he decided to read every single piece of work his children had ever written (that still survived after the war, Tybalt had jokingly lamented losing precious pieces of work on the run from demons) he soon realised that Caiellis had studied each Lucerna ruler in great detail, and choosing the wise and very intelligent queen over some of the other rulers (such as Matalis) spoke volumes about his son's personality. Alex hadn't selected an inspiration, but then Marik doubted the more practically orientated brother had the patience to pore over all the material his little brother had.
He still could recall a young Caiellis using his matter-of-fact tone and telling his mother that his father and brother were nice things to hug because they weren't bony like her, though he had found that incredibly contradictory (although Caiellis wouldn't really have understood what he was saying) when one considered that he had spent half the time clung to the woman – though he reasoned that he would put his youngest down after a few minutes as he had to attend to some duty or another kingly necessity, while his big brother would have probably irritated and teased him.
He glanced over to the chronometer in his pocket, sighing loudly when he saw that only a single minute had passed since they entered the room – the surgeons would only just be starting the operation, and Marik noticed how while two of them were equipped with numerous instruments, a third was busy leafing through a prayer book. Being able to access magic was required for most members of the Ordo Medella, and this one was clearly going to use purification spells to facilitate the removal of the vampire's curse.
Marik was extremely proud of his eldest son, surviving through all of those wounds that would kill a lesser person twice over – he doubted Caiellis, with his much more fragile body, would have lived. Alexander was the perfect son – kind, intelligent, loyal, determined, nurturing to his younger sibling, strong and tough, and most of all more than willing to sacrifice himself for others. He had a fantastic and loving personality, much like his late mother, while he still looked more like his father. He sometimes wished that Caiellis would be more like his brother, although Alexander didn't have to contend with Black mana in his body. The day his first son had been born was one of the happiest in his entire life, only rivalled by Caiellis's birth (despite the fact that the Angel of the Black Sun had selected him as her second Summoner, causing tumultuous uproar throughout the kingdom and making the night far more ominous) and his marriage. It had been sunny, golden rays of angelic light cascading over the hospital and illuminating the crying baby's face in a holy glow. Aurelia visited only a few hours after the boy's birth, and the day was a cause for celebration.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I just want Alex back! I'm sorry!" young Caiellis bawled into his father's solid chest, clenching and unclenching his tiny fists and violently brushing the tears out of his eyes. Alright, that's enough Marik thought, extricating his son from him and putting the boy back into his seat, though he still tried to keep the motions gentle. He found it so hard to do this – being a father had never come naturally to him, but after eight years of it Marik had thought that he was finally becoming a good one. That had been just before Johnias had his wife killed, and in the nine years the king had often worried that the atrocities he had seen and the grief he felt would make him forget how to be a proper father to his sons, aptly highlighted by causing his already small youngest's self-esteem to drop so low as to make him want to hurt himself. Just comforting Caiellis evidently wasn't working, so he switched to be more stern.
"I'm not the one you should be apologising to," he replied evenly, lifting up his son's chin and forcing the boy to look into his eyes, which would almost certainly be marred with accusation. He was disappointed in the boy, succumbing to Aksua's dream-magic and leaving his older brother alone to get hurt. Should Alexander survive his ordeal, (Marik harshly told himself to stop entertaining the notion that his eldest wouldn't), he would have very, very serious words with Caiellis, but if the older boy didn't then he wouldn't – his younger son would be broken if Alexander died, needing all the comforts of his father if he was to survive, although Marik didn't think he would be able to give him them. He wasn't sure he'd be able to get over his own grief if his precious eldest didn't pull through; Marik sincerely hoped both his children would outlive him, seeing another member of his family die (apart from one) would end him.
Caiellis nodded slowly, and took a few deep breaths, inhaling and exhaling in a calming pattern that allowed him to regain control again, and pulled fully away from his father, guilt and shame once again burning in his mind. His green orbs flicked to the operation, followed by the turning of his head. Two of the order members were inserting a large needle into his brother's chest – Cai had read about the device before, knowing it was used both for the extraction of blood and to allow the magic of the users to penetrate into the deeper corruption within their patient and expunge it in a very painful procedure.
"Angels of Sancturia, we beseech thou, lend us thy aid so that we may cleanse this Lucerna child of the filth of darkness, bless us with thy holy magic so that we may commence the purification," a woman's voice, clear and strong, rang out, and Cai looked on as the Ordo member holding the tome began to be suffused with holy light. She then began to say another line, however this one was entirely in the ancient language that had been spoken in Matalis's time. The boy could only understand broken passages of it, occasionally catching a stray word that meant something to him.
Sure, he understood a lot more of it than most other people, but while phrases of the language were used in everyday life (such as Ave Lux, which translated to "For the light!") the writing was very complex and archaic, and as such only a few people devoted their time to truly studying it. Whereas combat magic, Summoning and some less powerful forms of healing spells required mental power and mana to prosecute, the harder to use healing magic requisitioned the appropriate words and ritual to use to its fullest extent, needing a lifetime to fully learn. That was why Caiellis had been forced to abandon learning the magic of repairing, as he didn't have enough time to learn that, the warfare magic and Summoning rituals, though his healing was as powerful it could get without devoting his life to it. He found it a bit worrying however that when he Summoned, the White and Black magic combined to heal solely himself in an intensely selfish manner, extracting life from other beings in order to help himself.
After a few seconds into the procedure, Alexander woke up again, and screamed. He thrashed and shouted in pain as the machinery simultaneously sucked out some of his polluted blood and poured curing magics into his body that began to burn out the corruption. He shrieked in panic, knocking one of the orderlies away from him in his desperate resistance, the sucking sensation making him think that he was back with Aksua, back with the vampire gorging on his blood. The operation was making him relive his most recent nightmare, sending hysteria pounding through his head as he tried to push the vampire away.
"You're going nowhere, handsome."
"Hold him down!" the lead medic, the one who had argued with Marik earlier, shouted, and the Medella operatives moved to the prince's side, restricting his movements in an attempt to prevent his from disrupting the operation. There was a rapid increase in mana, Alex's magic responding to his need for freedom in a destructive flash and sending the medics sprawling.
"Give in. You know you want to. Give in to me, and I'll make your last moments as pleasurable as possible."
"GET AWAY FROM ME!" Alex screamed, releasing more mana around him and gripping the needle stuck into him tightly, trying desperately to pull it away. Luckily, although the detonation of mana had been unexpected, the boy was still extremely weak, and the medics could quickly return to his side. Even so, he still managed to dislodge the needle, moving it an awkward angle as it scraped his skin as he tried to pull it out. Through all of that, the chanting of the surgeon-priest had not stopped – she seemed to increase her volume, the hymnals cutting through the boy's panicked screaming.
"You taste as good as you look, pretty boy."
Caiellis stood up from his seat and walked straight into the operating theatre, his eyes determined and fixed upon his stricken brother, who was still trying to remove the needle. Another explosion of flames erupted from him, forcing the surgeons to retreat to avoid being burned. Cai strode through them, nothing, nothing, would stop him from getting to his brother. He smiled – even in his panicked state, Alex's fire still didn't harm his little brother, and Cai appeared at his sibling's side completely undamaged.
"Alex," he said, softly, and could have cried when his older brother's eyes met his. "Stop resisting, please. We are trying to help you. I'm sorry."
The pitifully depressed look of surrender in Alexander's eyes broke his little brother's heart, making him hope to hell and want to pray to a deity that he didn't believe in that he would have his cocky, cheerful and confident brother back, but the emotionally sore twisting in his stomach excruciatingly told him that Alex might not bounce back this time as quickly as he usually did, if he did at all. He was a failure through and through. He had let his older brother down yesterday when they had been abducted, and then let him down again when they were fighting Aksua. He clearly didn't have what it took to be a prince, let alone a king. He was pathetic.
"No angels can save you from me."
Cai tried to hold Alex's arms down, but despite his brother being wounded and weak he was still infinitely stronger than his younger sibling (Caiellis was still faint also), and broke out of his grasp, beginning to try and dislodge the needle again, flames still pulsing around him.
Knowing that wrestling against his big brother wouldn't achieve much and may end up hurting the older boy, Cai instead opted to take hold of Alex's head in both hands and force him to look into his eyes.
"Alex," he said again, and once again the older boy's terrified eyes locked with his. "Do you remember, every time that I have ever been down, or hurt, you have been there for me?"
The older boy was still struggling against the needle, although the flames had receded to a less intense heat, and Caiellis pressed on, emboldened, the surgeon-priest also redoubling the volume of her chanting, though the prince's words still cut through it.
"Do you remember the days after mum died, where every time I was sad you would hug me tightly and promise that everything would be better? Do you remember the first time that I was properly, seriously ill, and Tybalt and Tristram were in a meeting with the Light-bearers of Gol at the time? I came down with really bad chicken pox, and although you cared for me and did all you could I was still crying because of the pain, telling you that I looked like a freak with all these spots. You insisted that they were cool, and it was your idea that we drew patterns by connecting the dots. You drew me a dragon, an angel, a sphinx, a lizard, a bird, a dog and loads more," Caiellis smiled encouragingly at his older brother as the boy stopped trying to pull away the needle, the fire dying down around him and allowing the orderlies to resume the operation. Cai looked intently into his brother's wide and frightened blue orbs, ensuring the older boy was entirely focussed on him instead of the agonising operation. He fell into his memories, feeling his brother begin to do the same, and continued.
"Do you remember when I tried to kill myself after finding out what Orzhova really was after everyone had hidden it from me? I told you that I didn't deserve to live, and you responded by saying that you didn't give a damn about what the thing inside me had done one hundred years ago. You said that I would always be your little brother and that you would always love me for who I was, not for what my Summoning had done."
Marik appeared at Caiellis's side, although the king made no move to interfere with his youngest's recounting of the boys' memories. In fact, he just listened, feeling like he had missed out on a gigantic portion of their childhood where both his sons had grown from cute children into great young men. Alex grunted with pain but persisted in listening to his younger brother, the boy's soothing voice eclipsing all other thoughts and pushing Aksua's seductive voice back down.
"Do you remember the night that I killed the agent of Johnias that tried to murder us? I was convinced that I was a murderer, a horrible person, but you managed to persuade me otherwise. Even recently, when you discovered I was cutting myself, and when I was too scared to talk to those people, you still helped me. When Kaled disconnected me from the Summoning Bay, and when I attempted it again, you stood by me every step of the way. Even only yesterday, you reassured me that it wasn't my fault we were abducted, and today we battled out of Welkas together. We managed to defeat a greater demon, a Master of Passion, but when we fought Aksua I left you alone..." Cai's voice broke off as a wave of despair threatened to crash into the barriers of resolve he had built back up and overwhelm him in tears. He noticed that the woman was no longer singer the purification ritual, meaning that everyone in the room was listening to him. Caiellis gulped nervously, meaning to stop talking, but when he looked back down into Alexander's eyes, enraptured by his little brother comforting him, he knew that he should go on.
"I failed you, and I am so damn sorry. You've been there for me all my life, and the one time you needed me to back you up I failed you. But not now, not ever. I won't leave you again. I won't leave you again." Caiellis began to murmur, his voice an accusative half-growl aimed at himself. He felt a hand brush against his back and gently push him forwards, and he sat on the side of his brother's bed as the older boy hugged him weakly.
"Don't...blame yourself...little buddy," Alex whispered faintly into his brother's ear, who stifled tears. "Thank...you...for that...you...girl."
Cai grinned at the weak teasing, and his brother smiled back before being plunged back into unconsciousness, the smile still remaining on his pale features.
"As heart-warming as that was, we need you to step aside, Lord Caiellis." the leader of the operation ordered, his gruff voice coloured slightly with warmth at the prince's speech, echoing what all of them felt. "Despite the corruption being expunged, Lord Alexander is still grievously wounded, and we need to work on that if he is to live through the day."
Caiellis nodded and backed away from his brother, and then wished he hadn't moved so suddenly; it sent pains through his head, a pounding white noise that made him fall to his knees.
"Alright Caiellis, your wounds need seeing to," Marik uttered, and his son vehemently shook his head, wanting to stay in the room and watch over his brother. "Look down, Caiellis, and then deny that you need help again."
The prince did as he was told, glancing down to the source of most of his throbbing pain. The bandage that had been around his leg had ripped off when he had strode to Alexander in the older boy's panic, exposing a wound that had been rubbed raw by him jolting the fabric around. A trail of blood spilled across the sterilised and white floor of the surgery, flowing from his former seat, to his brother's bed, and then arcing back to where he now knelt. The wound looked painful, and probably infected, and was busying pumping more crimson liquid onto the floor.
"Doesn't matter," he stated, getting back to his feet, determined to make sure Alex would remain alright, to be there for him should his big brother wake up again. He slipped in the pool of blood, but managed to halt his fall by extending his arms to the ground. He gasped in pain when he put pressure on the left one, recalling that although Tristram had relocated the bones, it would still need time to heal.
"It's fine, Marik, I've got this. Come on kiddo," the Guardian grinned, picking up the weightless prince and forcibly carrying him out of the room.
"No! No! I want to stay with Alex!" Cai pleaded, battering his small fists against Tristram, the second time he had done that on this fateful night and it had the exact same effect. Marik nodded his thanks to his battle brother, and turned back to his eldest as the doctors were busy cleaning and dressing his wounds. Caiellis continued to struggle, although they were getting progressively weaker, so eventually he resorted to a childish mutter of: "Hate you."
"I know kid, but your wounds need looking at, despite what you may think. With the amount of blood you've lost, I'm surprised you haven't fain-" he snorted as Cai's head slumped against his shoulder, "Spoke too soon, it seems. Eh, at least this way you won't try to stop me."
.*.*.*.
After an hour or so, the lead doctor calmly informed Marik that they would stop operating on Alexander for a while, and that he was happy with the boy's condition for now, so he could get some more privacy and rest with the king's permission, taking out the vast majority of the machines. Marik gave it, even though he suspected that Alexander's recovery was faster because of his vaunted Lucerna fortitude. He stood by his eldest's stretcher, listening to the periodic beeping of the machines hooked to him, knowing from his greater time with Alex as a child that the boy hated hospitals.
He pulled over one of the seats and rested wearily on it, beginning to think of how much his blonde baby had grown up. His mind idly thought about how handsome he was, and then pushed that out of the way, realising that it would have been his handsomeness that made Aksua target him first. He dearly wished he had never told the pretty Lucaelian captain about his sons, or ever got close to the vampire in the first place – it had felt like he was desecrating Emili's memory, by he had desperately needed repose in the war, and Aksua had delivered a temporary means to achieve that.
His thoughts then drifted to the pressing issue of Welkas, deciding that now he had his sons back the inevitable siege of the upstart empire could wait until he had fully mobilized all his forces in preparation for a crushing blow. He wanted his sons, Alexander and Caiellis, to be at the forefront of the war, to be his hands and leading his armies to victory, though that dream would definitely have to wait until his eldest had recovered. Meanwhile, Caiellis could be trained in military issues and strategy, attending the sessions that would undoubtedly happen so that he could learn more about the worst duty of a Lucaelian monarch – prosecuting war. That reminded him: he still needed to have harsh words with Caiellis, and he stroked his son's spiky blonde hair again.
"...mmmm, Dad?" a voice groaned quietly, and Marik smiled down as Alexander's eyes opened, blinking tiredly at the world around him.
"Just me, bud," he replied, using the nickname for his son that he had used when the boy was a child. Marik thought he should probably start using them again, though he wasn't entirely sure how Caiellis would react – he had always been closer to his eldest, even when the boy was eight and his little brother was four.
"Where's Cai?" he instantly asked, stammering slightly in his exhaustion, and Marik couldn't quite stop a wide grin from splitting his austere face. Even in the state that he was, Alexander's first concern had been for his younger sibling, not for himself. "Tristram was just seeing to your little brother's wounds, though he took him out and hour ago. He didn't want to leave."
"Who would want...to leave the side of someone...as handsome as me?" Alexander joked, though the effort to show humour failed to hide the pain in his eyes – they ached with both physical and emotional strain, but also showed how he needed his little brother at his side to feel better. He felt awful, like he had fallen underneath a monorail train and then been stabbed with thousands of tiny needles, but worse than the immense bodily pain was the mental agony he felt – Alexander had just let Aksua abused and violate him, although at least the vampire didn't do anything sexual like she had repeatedly hinted at. He felt broken, defiled, and just wanted the younger boy to be with him so that he could focus on his recovery and what was important to him.
"I will go and fetch Caiellis," Marik told him, patting him on the shoulder and then making to stand up out of the chair and go and get his youngest. The second he did so, the door flung open and his other son figuratively bounded over to his bed-ridden brother, with Tristram following and shaking his head in despair.
"I just repaired your bandages, squirt, don't go ruining them again." he laughed, and the boy sighed and turned to look at him, and innocent smile on his face. "Don't worry, Uncle Tristram, I won't."
He spun back round to his older brother, grinning down at him, although Alex could tell that the expression was a mixture of real happiness at his brother's survival and then some extra feigned joy in an attempt to hide the sadness the younger boy must have felt. Cai was wearing Lucaelian clothes again, after Tristram had persisted in refusing to let him go and see Alexander unless he got out of the torn, singed, battered Welkalite outfit with the trousers and shoes also covered in some sort of half-digested bile like substance. The Guardian had also given him the Sword of Glass that he had left on the battleground of the abandoned village, forgotten in his haste to reach the wounded older prince, which Caiellis had accepted graciously.
"How are you feeling, big brother?" he asked, his wide eyes eager and inquisitive, prompting Alex to think of the many mornings he had carried his little brother to the window and check for sunlight. The older boy replied with a grunt of: "Fine."
"Sure you are," Caiellis smirked, knowing that there was no way that what he said was true, and entwined his hand with Alexander's, giving it a firm squeeze (well, he hoped it felt firm) to try and reassure his sibling. He then glanced at the machinery to the left of the bed, reading the patterns that truly described his brother's condition. "Your heart rate is still quite high, although I suppose that is to be expected with the amount of blood you lost."
"That's great, Doctor Caiellis," Alex replied, then turning to send a conspiratorial look to his father, his blue eyes twinkling mischievously, "Did dad ever tell you about the handsome Yentarian diplomat that mum spent a lot of time with? I'm sure you're descended from him."
"That would explain a lot," Tristram cut in, ruffling his younger student's mop of brown hair, and both him and the middle Lucerna chuckled at the unamused scowl Cai wore.
"Alexander, are you going to be alright with Tristram for a few minutes?" Marik interrupted the light-hearted teasing, electing to have his words with Caiellis now before he got too comfortable in the presence of his older brother. "I just need to talk to your brother for a bit."
"Sure," he answered, and judging by the way Caiellis's posture visibly fell and his shoulders slumped, he had a clear idea of what this "talk" would entail. Alex could hazard a guess, and tried to catch the younger boy's eyes; even just a split second would allow him to confirm his fears but his little brother let go of his hand and turned before he could get even a small glimpse. Marik firmly took his thin forearm and led him out of the room, fully closing the door behind him and smiling at the orderly that walked past them, before dragging the boy in front of him when he was certain there was no-one in earshot.
"Caiellis. I assume you know full well what I am about to say?" he questioned, letting go of his smallest son when he felt his grip instinctively tightening around the boy's thin arm; he didn't want to hurt Caiellis, just verbally discipline him. When the boy nodded glumly he continued, wanting to get it out of the way so that they could return to Alexander. "What the hell were you thinking?! You left your brother alone against the vampire! You were smiling! Did you even try to break out of her magic?!"
Caiellis bowed his head in shame as the accusations bombarded him, feeling like he deserved this and much more for just letting his brother get hurt as badly as he did.
"Imagine if you were in that situation! Would you have not felt betrayed knowing that your own brother had just left you for dead? I know that I would, and it damn well shows how much Alexander loves you that he is willing to just forgive and forget about you failing him!" Marik felt his volume rising as he started to release all of the pent up anger and agitation he had built up inside of him after the events of the previous day. "You are unbelievably lucky to have an older brother like him, and what do you go and do?! You go and leave him to die when he needed you most! Alexander could have died! I could have lost my eldest son because you weren't strong enough to back him up! I hope you are happy with yourself."
Caiellis slumped even more, and Marik noticed that he was shaking with anger, and that all he wanted to do was just hit the boy, teach him to never abandon his brother again. Angels damn it! Control yourself! He mentally admonished, when Caiellis mumbled something.
"What did you say?" he asked, his voice coming out in a more half-furious hiss than a shout, although he knew he had said enough. He had expected his youngest to have been muttering an apology, but when the boy raised his head he could see the blazing defiance in his eyes.
"I said: "It is not just my fault that Alex is hurt. You should be thinking about what you've done as well"," he replied, his voice a mixture of predictable fear, sorrow and regret, but also a tinge of rebelliousness, and scorn that Marik had never heard in his youngest's timid and soft voice before.
"What do you mean?" Marik demanded, roughly shaking the boy's shoulders before he could stop himself. Instead of backing down from the confrontation, Caiellis latched onto in, using it to fuel his form of the anger they all felt at the oldest prince's injuries.
"Maybe if you had listened to me when I told you it was a bad idea to go into the negotiations with Welkalites, then none of this would have happened!" he shouted, shocked at the vehemence and contempt in his own voice, but his mind wouldn't let it end there. Marik rocked back as if slapped, and Cai capitalised on it, unleashing his own barrage of accusations.
"But no, I'm the king, I know best, better not listen to my son's concerns and just dismiss them!" he yelled, and then it was Marik's turn to slump. "You really do have a problem with listening to people."
Marik knew what he was talking about there: when the war had just started, him and Emili had argued loudly about taking their sons to Scientia Mos, but Marik had maintained that the palace was much safer for his young family. A little four year old Caiellis had wandered into the nursery, where the couple were having a shouting match, crying and telling them that he had had a horrible nightmare. Emili had quickly given in to his demands there, not wanting to argue in front of their youngest and instead switching to comforting him instead. Marik had left just after Alexander had entered the room, looking for his little brother, and then only a few hours later Emili had been murdered. He had always assumed that the boy hadn't known what they were arguing about and hadn't heard much of it, but Caiellis had always been an intelligent and perceptive child so probably had picked up on it. This was now confirmed by his words, but before Marik had chance to respond to the statement Caiellis launched another tirade of yells.
"And really?! Marik-Sweetie?! Sweetheart?! Former lover?! What the fuck was that all about?! You knew her name! You knew that a vampire existed!" Caiellis snarled, and Marik turned away, not willing to meet his fiery gaze. "You told her about us, didn't you? That's how she knew our names, and what we were! Why? Was your urge for a lover really that strong to risk your sons' lives?"
"... She was supposed to be dead," he mumbled, though the words sounded hollow to even his ears, so only the angels knew how badly his son would take that, though he was sure to soon find out. The green orbs filled with disgust, and Caiellis turned away, uttering. "You desecrated mum's memory."
Marik's anger then started to rise again. Yes, he may have made he fair share of mistakes in his time, but he had treated Emili with all the love that he had. He would not be told what was right or wrong by a child, and certainly not his own child!
"How dare you say that. All I wanted to do was show you that you were wrong to just abandon your brother like you did. How dare you even think that I treated your mother's memory with any less than the respect it deserves," he growled, and Cai blinked in hesitation for a second at the threatening tone, before recommencing the argument. "What, and you think I don't already know that what I did was pathetic? Unlike you, I actually punish myself for my mistakes. Unlike you, I-"
"BE QUIET!" Marik exploded, grabbing his son's shoulder and twisting him around, his hands grasping the boy's collar and half-lifting him off his feet. "DO NOT EVEN THINK FOR A SECOND THAT I DON'T SPEND EVERY SINGLE DAY REGRETTING NOT LISTENING TO YOUR MOTHER AND TAKING YOU TO SCIENTIA MOS! IF I HAD JUST DONE THAT, SHE WOULD STILL BE ALIVE! YOU WOULDN'T HAVE HAD TO SPEND EVERY SINGLE DAY OF THAT WAR SCARED AND TERRIFIED FOR YOUR LIVES, BUT YOU DID BECAUSE OF MY MISTAKES." he reigned in his volume, with deep, shuddering breaths, dismissing the mana that had risen up inside of him at his outburst.
"Do not even suggest that I don't feel like I should die a thousand times over for what I have done, but it is the duty of a Lucerna to protect the kingdom, not wallow in despair," he finished, and the hatred and terror in his son's eyes could have broken his heart. He let go of the boy, who scampered away, before composing himself and rising to his feet.
"Never touch me again," Caiellis spat, although his voice quivered, and walked back towards the room with his brother, mentally cursing and trying to control his frightened shaking, although at least some of them were mixed with anger. When he opened the door, he turned back around for the last time, seeing his father looking at his hands in despair. He quashed the sudden, almost overwhelming urge to run up to the man, hug him and apologise for what he had said – dad didn't deserve his forgiveness, and doing that would show that he had given up. He felt like slamming the door, but didn't want to disturb his brother, who was back asleep.
"Cai," Tristram said quietly, debating on whether to hug the boy or not, but they had more pressing concerns. "This is going to sound awkward, but could you get in with your brother. I know it is only five o'clock, and that you are both teenagers, but he has been shaking ever since you left. I was planning to do it myself had you not come in now, but to be honest I think your brother would prefer his little brother to a random man."
The boy nodded slowly, realising that his brother was in fact uncharacteristically trembling and sobbing quietly, and didn't hesitate. He pulled off the jacket he was wearing, giving it to Tristram as a wave of exhaustion washed over him as well – he was drained, though not literally like his brother, by the escape from Welkas, and if his brother needed comfort then he wouldn't waste any time. He crawled under the blankets, plastering his chest to Alex's back and throwing his left arm protectively around him, taking care to not put too much pressure on his big brother's bruised abdomen and cracked ribs, or disrupt any of the newly stitched wounds. Tristram turned the light off and went to stand outside the room, feeling like he was intruding on something.
He flashed back to a time when Alexander would always do the same to him after a horrible nightmare, a storm or he felt scared about the war, sometimes humming the reassuring tune of the Canticia Luxia, sometimes telling him small stories, sometimes just comforting him with his presence alone. Though the roles were reversed, he still felt that extra sense of security being so close to his brother, especially after the horrible argument he had just had with their father. It appeared that Alex felt the same, after at first tensing as he felt someone grab his from behind, before unconsciously ascertaining that it was just little Cai. He relaxed against his little brother, encouraged to know that someone had his back, that someone could protect him from reliving the experience only a few hours ago. He finally felt safe. Though still he couldn't stop himself from mumbling something inaudible.
"Shhh... Just go to sleep, big brother. I'm watching over you. I promise that I won't fail you again, not now, and not ever," the older boy relaxed at the words, burrowing further into the blankets and pillows.
After a few minutes, the door creaked open, some light spilling into the room, and Marik quietly snuck inside. Caiellis's sleepy eyes flashed to the man, still full of angry defiance, baiting their father to continue the argument and wake up Alexander. The king sighed quietly, realising that he could have easily lost both his sons on this day, and sat in the chair next to the bed. Caiellis visibly braced himself as the man's arm hovered over him, but instead Marik chose to tenderly stroke Alex's hair, not forgetting his youngest's words but just wanting to hug him after the argument. Caiellis would forgive him when he was ready, and the king didn't want to rush that.