The Eternal Dance of Light and Dark

by The King of Ravens

Having just survived a nine year long civil war, those of Lucael would be forgiven for entertaining the notion of peace. However, new threats are rising, and as the son of the king, it is Caiellis's job to combat them, despite his youth. But as the leaders of a rival nation declare war and mysterious figures pull strings in the shadows, Cai will be drawn into the fate of the world.

32. Betrayal

The bloody rain poured down from the heavens around the three circling figures, staining the already bloodstained plaza outside of the Slaughterhouse, crimson rivulets pouring down the garishly coloured posters depicting lightly armoured individuals circling one another or ramming their jagged blades into a variety of different animals, the prices for attending the Slaughter Games obscured by the blood dripping down it.

Despite the cacophony of the battle that was only a few metres away from them, the constant violent crackling of the Tempest of Craving, and the tempestuous laughter that shook the earth, a kind of quiet had descended, punctuated only by the sizzling of the corrupted blood as it impacted upon Aurelia and the plinking sound as it poured onto the large armoured figure, the claret liquid pouring down the burnished bronze gladiator plates that they were clad in that left much of their monstrous musculature bare, the veins pulsating on the surface as the one they carried the vital fluids of prepared to attack or adversely repel his opponent's attack.

Alexander's blade was shining with holy fire, the edge of his father's old weapon alight with incandescent golden flames that matched the contrails of fire swirling around the Swords of Flame that his First Sisterhood angel the Warleader held, the impulsive Red mana powered by his anger at the Master of Violence for not just killing Telaia Gladium, and the survivors of Division Five of Cassida Principia, but for also his perverse lust for violence and bloodshed in kidnapping and choking the eldest prince's little brother that had led to this brutal war and Alexander's dad's and brother's arguments. His mana was still relatively high, though he was concerned because of the fact that Arendus Draal had proven himself to be a formidable fighter and though he hadn't even Summoned yet the brutish Master of Violence had still been able to block Aurelia's sword strikes without breaking into a sweat.

Neither of the two spoke as the circled one another, the man's massive axe held almost casually, but Alex had seen first hand how he could wield the weapon with superlative and savage force, and the fact that it was spinning lazily while the rest of his body was tensing meant that he would be able to move it incredibly quickly. The seventeen year old didn't sense much mana coming from his daunting opponent, which meant that, as he expected, the Master of Violence would be relying almost exclusively upon physical attacks, with the occasional use of Black or Red mana to augment them or attempt to catch the middle Lucerna off guard.

In spite of the reality that he knew he shouldn't rush or be reckless, Alexander wanted to defeat this enemy very quickly so that he could make his way to the point that his father and younger brother were fighting the most powerful source of mana in the entire City of Pleasure. He needed to get to them so that he could help with his own First Sisterhood angel, but rushing this battle would end up getting him killed within the first few seconds – that wasn't to say that he wasn't going to be extremely aggressive, on the contrary his entire fighting style revolved around taking the initiative and battling quickly, but he was going to put all of his concentration into his engagement so that he didn't get caught off guard and gutted by the huge double bladed axe of his enemy.

He analysed Arendus, hoping to find some form of weakness that he could exploit in his first few attacks to gain a greater advantage, but couldn't see any obvious ones apart from the lack of mana that probably wouldn't equate to a lack of combat strength. He had expected the Master of the Order of Violence, the Welkalite establishment that revelled in the brutality and bloodshed of battle and slaughter, to be angrier, full of momentous rage, or showing more emotion, but Arendus seemed perfectly calm at the moment, just like he was in any other previous occasion the Lucerna had ever seen him. He glanced over to Aurelia, who returned it, her eyes alight with fiery hatred and fanatical rage, and then blasted a tongue of flame at the Welkalite.

Arendus blocked it with his axe, the weapon shining with a type of numbing power that Alex remembered from the mana inhibitors that had been used to restrain his brother and him in preparation for their abduction into the city they were now besieging, a deadening resonance around the black metal that would nullify any mana based attacks if one used it to block, which meant that if Alexander wanted to attack the Master of Violence with magic he would have to do it when he was unable to block with his axe. He wished that he could see the man's eyes, but his face was concealed by his brass gladiator helm and as such he didn't know where he was looking or what he was going to do next, an advantage that Arendus had over him as Alexander's blue orbs lit up with Aurelia's ardent fire were open for anyone to look into.

Then, the gladiator blurred forwards, moving at a tremendous speed as his massively muscled legs propelled his bulk across the courtyard, and his battle axe swinging down into Alexander, who blocked it with his sword but only used the weapon to deflect the black metal of the axe blade, directing the force behind the blow away from him as he slid back in a spray of sparks that, instead of being doused and extinguished by the gore coating everything that Aurelia had informed him prevented the few healing spells he had available (which made him even more concerned for his little brother, as the runt's whole combat technique was dependent on being able to repair the wounds his fragile body sustained), blazed even brighter before they went out.

Arendus swung the bottom of his huge axe at the prince who was jumping backwards from the first strike, though it was blocked on a golden shield that Aurelia conjured before the angel charged at him herself, her swords flashing in a storm of steel that had the man quickly parrying the strikes, before throwing himself into the angel in an attempt to tackle her into the ground and execute her with his massive weapon. Aurelia beat her wings and emitted a pulse of blinding White mana that the Master of Violence prevented from getting to him with a swing of his axe, the metal naturally repelling the mana, which suddenly gave Alexander the idea that it would probably just as easily dispel Sancturia creatures, and that was why he had baited Aurelia into attacking so that he could destroy her and then fight Alex on his own.

He mentally sent a warning to the angel telling her not to allow the axe to even touch her, and threw himself into the Master of Violence with his sword arcing round from the side to distract him from his angel. The man quickly dodged the spout of aggression and kneed Alexander in the stomach, flipping him round and using his forward momentum against him, reminding the boy of when he had been a lot younger and had started sparring for the first time, utterly unable to hold his own against the adult strength of Guardian Tristram and only able to get a few strikes in before he was defeated – or alternatively making him feel like Caiellis must do when sparring against him, someone of a much greater strength and experience.

At any rate, he quickly arched his back and barely avoided a scything strike that would have ripped out the contents of his stomach and spilled them across the floor, scampering across the bloodied stone of the Champion's Quarter as a blow obliterated the space on which he had been half knelt after Arendus had sent him flying, and then launching a thrusting strike of his own from his sword, that was still shining with his internal mana but had had its flames extinguished by the contact with, in tandem with Aurelia blasted a helix of crackling silver lightning from her crossed swords, one pulse of holy electricity pulsed from each of the tips and coruscating through the air towards the Master of Violence. Alex had done the attack because if Arendus wanted the block the spell, he had to use his axe – otherwise it would slam into him and inflict maximum damage – which would leave him right open for Alexander's blow, the boy aiming for a gap in the man's armour that bared his numerous scars.

The hulking Welkalite shunted to the left, intercepting the twin bolts of twisting lightning on his axe as the magic conducted into it and faded into nothingness, but it left him vulnerable to Alex's strike, which rammed into the bare flesh as the man spun, the blade scoring a fresh cut that instantly began to spurt out lifeblood but not embedding within the Master of Violence's body and as such not damaging any organs, such as the lungs which were underneath the skin at that area. He let go of the axe with one hand, holding the heavy weapon that many people wouldn't even be able to pick up and hold, much less attack at a blinding speed with, effortlessly in the other, and swung his fist into Alexander's face, the punch smashing him in the cheek but luckily not pulping his eye (as that had evidently been Arendus's intended target) or breaking any bones as he automatically recoiled when he had seen the fist rushing towards him, though it drew blood as the bare fist covered only in tattered strips of leather crashed into his cheek.

Nonetheless, it still sent him tumbling backwards as his vision blurred with tears of pain, but he was determined not to be defeated so easily and rolled back from another ground shattering axe strike, flipping to his feet with commendable agility and launching another blow of his own, his blade moving with a huge velocity of its own as Alexander focussed his speed augmenting Red and White mana into it, figuring that he had to use every advantage he could get against a foe who was undoubtedly physically stronger than him, flashing forwards and leaving trails of luminescent golden light in the air behind it, though this time the Master of Violence managed to deflect the blow on the haft of his axe, the wood hacked in half by the elegant bastard sword that fit Alexander's style perfectly (just like the relic Sword of Glass that empowered magical attacks suited Cai marvellously).

Arendus threw the splintered wood that was already catching fire at his opponent, who, pumped full of adrenaline and energy with all of his sense heightened by the extremely fast combat, parried it with his sword that smashed it apart before he realised that the strike had only been a distraction and the Master of Violence was closing on him again, before the Warleader blasted a wave of roaring golden and red flames into his back that sent him flying away from Alexander, his bare flesh charring as he tumbled into a smoking heap. Aurelia, angered by the fact that he had hurt her Summoner and full of zealous fury at the man who was the manifestation of the corruption of righteous warfare and combat – as in her opinion the brutal gladiator arenas were utterly abhorrent, whereas things like honour duels were tests of skill instead of gaining the crowd's favour – slammed into the ground next to him, her flaming swords hacking through the air towards the downed Master of Violence.

The man crashed his fist into the ground, and Alex cried out a warning as he sensed a build up in Red mana around him, but Aurelia was already aware and leapt backwards as several pillars of rock burst out of the ground, dripping with molten lava and glowing orange with an internal heat, impacting upon an aegis of gold the Angel of War created around herself and fracturing it and themselves, rubble crashing to the ground and sending blood that had collected into puddles from the sheer amount of it ejected from the Tempest of Craving. More tectonic rippling shuddered across the ground, and though it wasn't a particularly powerful spell it prevented Alexander from charging forward as he had been planning, the stone cracking in front of him an exposing pits of bubbling magma that were too large to jump over without going back and preparing himself with a run up, allowing Arendus to leap back to his feet as Alexander jumped over the rocky barriers the man created, Aurelia returning to his side as the two human combatants began waiting for the other to attack again.

He hadn't known that Arendus was a geomancer, but he supposed that it would be easy enough for him to learn such a spell if the Master of Violence had desired a way to prevent opponents from attacking him whilst he was downed, which made complete sense as Arendus was a gladiator that probably fought dirty so that he could have survived to reach his position as the head of the Order of Violence, a post that had evidently granted him freedom to do whatever he wanted judging by how Tradax had referred to him and acted in his presence. Neither of the three embroiled in the violence were talking, Alex too focussed on the battle and not the sort of person to insult his opponents, and Aurelia hadn't yet released her fervour in an emotional war cry.

Or he had spoken too soon, apparently, as Arendus grunted sadistically, "I was hoping to fight your little brother again, boy prince, so that I could finish the job that I started when we abducted him and I was forced to obey that tool Tradax's orders in not killing him."

Alexander bristled at the mention of his younger brother, though he restrained himself from charging at the Master of Violence who was clearly baiting him into trying to over extend with his words, Alexander glad that the man clearly wasn't predisposed to provoking and manipulating as opposed to some of the other Masters of the Orders of Passion, and instead replied calmly, "You will have to be satisfied with me instead, you bastard. And I'm glad that it is me fighting you instead of my little brother, as now that we are on even ground and you have nothing to bargain with I don't have to hold back. Prepare to face justice, Arendus Draal."

The other man laughed, a harsh, grating and guttural sound that was entirely unpleasant and made it seem like he hadn't ever done it before, the bark of laughter coloured with genuine amusement in the prince's confident words, and twirled his axe in anticipation, pacing slowly round the courtyard as Alexander mirrored his actions and Aurelia flew upwards, providing herself with the ability to strike down at the Master of Violence at will since he had no air support.

Alexander's cheek throbbed painfully, but that was the least of his concerns and nowhere near as agonising as some of the things he had experienced in his short life, trying to ignore the strain on his ribs from some of the wounds and hits he had suffered earlier in the battle that had set off his still healing injuries that had been inflicted by the vindictive but still caressing touch of the last vampire, hoping that it died down and it wasn't reflective of the state of the rest of his recovering wounds, as the Master of Violence snarled, "Beggars can't be choosers, I suppose, so I will have to content myself with killing you, Prince Alexander."

He spat the title, and Alex sensed that it was infused with the Welkalite hatred of any form of rulers after the revolution that had occurred twenty years ago though he found it immensely ironic that the Masters of the Orders of Passion were just as tyrannical and autocratic as the old tyrants had been, but because they let those with the right amount of money indulge in anything they want and let the Welkalite citizenry run wild in the throes of debauchery, they were not hated as much – and that reminded him of the Resistance that had saved the life of him and his little brother, and since there had been no sign of them he guiltily assumed that they must have been wiped out in the distraction that they caused to allow him and Cai to escape the City of Pleasure. Instead of that belated reaction making him feel guilty and depressed, it infused Alexander with an even greater sense of purpose, to make the sacrifices of all those that had given their lives to help take down the Orders of Passion worth the cost.

He quickly cast a multitude of White and Red enchantments upon him, enhancing his already formidable speed and strength with the divine power gifted to him by a First Sisterhood angel, knowing that he and Caiellis had defeated a Master of Passion before (and he was pretty sure that the squirt had again, since he had sensed Tradax's presence slipping from the world until it became replaced by the huge, swirling mass of Black and Red mana at the near centre of the city that Alexander needed to get to as soon as possible), so this should be something he was capable of doing, and his thoughts were filled with determination and anger, contrasting sharply with the seemingly calm demeanour of the Master of Violence, though he had got less cold and more enthusiastic than the start of the battle.

It was quite clear to Alex that Arendus Draal had been despatched to delay him and prevent him from reaching the place where is brother and father had converged upon (well, the latter had as the former had teleported there at the start of the brutal battle for the city of Usnaan), or possibly kill him and deny the Lucaelian host of a First Sisterhood angel. Now that he thought about it, judging the man's earlier words, he had wanted to go and kill Caiellis – who depended upon his enchantments and magic to fight and so would have been at a severe disadvantage to the Master of Violence – it was quite probable that Arendus, in his sick and twisted way, had wanted to kill his little brother, but had instead settled upon the closest user of a First Sisterhood angel since Cai had bypassed the entire city in his rush to the place where the Tempest of Craving had been cast.

The boy pushed the thoughts away from his mind, focussing entirely on the combat as he knew that any distractions would be fatal, and rushed the Master of Violence, arcing a sword strike towards him that was blocked on the blade of his shortened axe. The man's huge fist reached round towards the seventeen year old, who instead grabbed hold of it with his free hand, the appendage covered in fiery Red mana that seared the Welkalite's tanned skin as he pushed it away, their weapons still straining together, so Arendus pulled away (though he didn't react to the burning in any way) and launched a blisteringly fast kick at the boy's stomach.

Alexander coughed and spat blood as he was kicked backwards, the huge foot crashing into his organs and sending pain exploding through his lower abdomen, and then Aurelia slammed down from the sky, her twin swords flashing in a deadly dance as the carved through some of the Master of Violence's armour and skin, sending blood spraying everywhere that was immediately cauterised by the flaming blades as Aurelia struck again, this time with a bolt of magical light that blasted into the man and send him flying backwards. Alex surged to his feet, emboldened by this new turn in the fighting and the fact that he had vaguely underestimated the exalted power of Aurelia, who was strengthened by his thoughts of justice and righteous rage. He ignored the pain in his lower body – again, he had lived through worse – and charged at the embattled Welkalite, who was busy warding off the Warleader's repeated strikes with his axe and spikes of rock that he conjured up from the ground.

He couldn't afford any more delays if he wanted to get to his little brother; Alexander hated leaving the kiddo to fight alone because of the fact that his older brother instinct could never be satiated unless he was by the side of the boy and making sure he was safe (though it was vaguely satisfied by being aware that he should be safe and sound (which, in the current situation, didn't apply to Caiellis's predicament at all), and he knew that he had to stop being as obsessive because they would become adults soon), and now that he was fighting some sort of extremely powerful demon Alex could not waste any more time. It didn't matter that their father, the strongest individual human warrior in the entire Kingdom of Light and quite possibly the world, was with the youngest member of their family, and Alex knew that combined three First Sisterhood angels was more powerful than two, and any instances where that many had been Summoned almost always resulted in an overwhelming victory.

Arendus threw spikes of rock at the Warleader that cracked apart on a shield of shimmering Red and White mana she created that diverted the trajectories of the stone projectiles and sent them flying right back at the Master of Violence – while the vengeance and deflection aspect of Red and White was perfected by her twin sister Razia, Angel of Purity, Aurelia still had access to the ability that had been taught to her by her sister when they were not in the midst of one of their perpetual rivalries that always faded away in times of war, as she had once told a younger Alexander who came to speak to her about training himself to get stronger. The rocks smashed apart on the man, who raised his arms to shatter them and threw himself out of the way, turning to block one of Alex's strikes with a remarkable agility that the boy had come to expect from this opponent.

The Tempest of Craving crackled above, crimson lightning streaking towards the City of Pleasure from above as the dark and angry sky rumbled with a mixture of thunderous booming and demonic laughter that set Alex on edge, not that he wasn't already, and reminded him that he had to be done with this bastard quickly – for all that he half-teasingly admonished his little brother for his very occasional use of profanities, that was because he still saw Caiellis as an innocent kid – which he was – and not yet a moody teenager, though if his recent performances heralded anything it was that a hormonal and brooding little brother was on the horizon in the years to come. That was if they all survived this battle in one piece and without severe emotional scarring from what could occur.

Alexander twisted his body away from a kick and blasted a bolt of flaming light at Arendus, forcing him to block it with his axe if he didn't want to be incinerated by the powerful magic, as though Alex didn't rely on it as much as his brother did he was still very proficient in its usage, and its power was fuelled by emotions much more than it was through training and technique, and the beam of light streaked forth from his outstretched hand, predictably slamming into the blade of the man's axe and dissipating as it was absorbed by the dripping metal when he flicked it around. His face deadly serious, Alex then flung a kick out of his own as Aurelia closed on the two from behind Arendus, who had to twist away from Alexander's flaming foot and jump back from Aurelia's strikes, slamming his foot into the ground to conjure up earthen spikes in a bid to get the Lucerna prince or his angelic guardian away from him, but the eldest prince would not be deterred as the rocky shrapnel smashed apart on a shield he created, the sharp debris from the collision raining down upon him but only inflicting a few cuts and tearing some of his leather armour.

Aurelia darted into Arendus Draal from the back, cleaving into empty space with her blades as he jumped upwards, Alex following the movements and hacking down with his sword as the man lashed out with his axe, the two landed on the opposite sides of each other though not that far away as blood sprayed from both of them, the boy grunting in pain as he spun around quickly and blocked a strike on his sword, tensing underneath the man's massive strength as it was pressed down against him, golden enchantments wrapping themselves around his muscular but not brutish arms so that he could better resist the brawny Master of Violence's physical capabilities, the two straining against each other in a battle for physical dominance. Draal attempted to unbalance his opponent with a series of swift kicks complimented by a tectonic shaking underneath Alex that would have pitched a less skilful warrior forwards, which would have made them disengage with the grinding of metal on metal and had the boy hacked apart by the large axe.

Instead, Alexander pulsed White and Red mana into the ground, his generation of the magic powered by his need to protect those weaker than him and the Lucaelian forces mixed with his rage at the Welkalite Orders of Passion, bright circles of incandescent golden and white flame expanding out from him in an imitation of his Summoning ritual but with far more destructive force behind the spell. Aurelia clanged her swords together, channelling her own mana through her Summoner with the Swords of Flame as a potent conduit that amplified the boy's feelings with emotions of the divine, his Red mana reacting to the passion present in his thoughts whilst the White was augmented by the need to dispense justice and help other people, as well as avenge those who had died to get him this far.

Arendus had to shield his eyes as the light rose to a blinding intensity around the boy, his blonde hair reflecting the power and buffeting into the air with the displacement of air around him, ripping his axe away from where it had been tangled with Alexander's sword and placing it in front of him like a shield – gripping onto the blade to better protect himself from the magic and cutting his fingers, though if the Master Violence was concerned at all by it he didn't show it – as the White and Red mana ignited the air around the teenager and seeped through his skin, holy lightning that was as far removed from the crimson coruscations spat out by the Tempest of Craving as fire was from water despite sharing the same structure crackling around him and Aurelia's blades. The metal of the straight edged and simply elegant sword was emitting huge quantities of light and flame that burst forth from it, while the curved blade held in her right hand flashed with blazing electricity as she shot towards the Master of Violence who was staggering backwards from the assault of light coming from Alexander.

The boy sprang forwards, galvanised by the energy flowing through him as thoughts of his comrades that had suffered and died, the nameless Welkalites who had been abused and exploited by the Orders of Passion, and his innocent thirteen year old brother who had been thrown into a war and been forced to endure awful things because of the Master of Violence stood in front of him, as the Welkalite dodged Aurelia's blinding strikes that had only ever been just a distraction. Alexander leapt into the air, ignoring the pain in his body that was exacerbated by the fact that he had been forced to shut of his naturally healing White mana that flowed through him when he Summoned, because otherwise he would have been murdered by the Rain of Gore that stained his body even through the light and fire surrounding it that should have purified and evaporated the perpetual and torrential downpour of claret blood.

In spite of the speed of his movements, Alexander's adrenaline filled mind slowed time to a crawl as he flew through the air towards the man, his muscles filled with a glorious and motivating fire that would enhance his attacks much more, and gripped his father's former sword that the man had personally given to him and was a reminder of his infinitely precious family and why they had to win on this day – not just to save the lives of the inhabitants of two of the largest civilisations on the planet, but so that his dad and baby brother could rebuild the relationship that had firstly been broken by the nine year long civil war, and secondly tarnished by their arguments and the violence that Marik had showed to his last son, coupled with Caiellis's defiance. However, after this battle that Alexander would make sure they survived through by killing this big bastard and coming to the aid of his family, there would be little left to argue about, and because of the fact that the two were fighting together and their disputing would be put into perspective by the life or death situation surrounding them they would realise how precious the other was to them and as such stop their fighting.

That was what Alex wanted to believe, at any rate, as while he refused to think of the possibility of either of them dying because of the fact that he wouldn't allow it to happen, it was still a possibility that something could happen that would make them hate each other even more – like Caiellis under-performing and being blamed by his father, or the horrifying amount of casualties the Lucaelian force was sustaining because of the method of besieging the City of Pleasure that had been chosen making his gentle little brother even more nasty and sorrowful because he would think that it could have been avoided by his more methodical and careful tactics. However, that was why all three of them would survive, because it was Alexander's duty as an eldest son with younger siblings to make sure that his parent and his little brother were getting along well, and nothing would stop him from doing that.

It was amazing how fast the mind thought when it was pumped full of adrenaline, as Alexander had completed thinking about all of the things that had gone through his head while he was still mid air, despite the fact that he was still intently focussed upon Arendus Draal as he leapt towards him, and the thoughts filled him with an unstoppable conviction as he shot through the air at Arendus, carving into the man with his flaming sword as he brought up his axe to block, Alexander's blade crashing into the numbing metal and instantly extinguishing the light that was pulsing through the sword, until, quick as a flash, the middle Lucerna brought it away and launched another strike as Aurelia hit from behind, the Master of Violence electing to dodge the angel's strike instead of her Summoner's.

Alex's blade sliced into him from above, hacking into his horned bronze gladiator helmet and cutting it in half, the last second juddering movement he made preventing the boy from hacking his head in two, though the flaming blade still carved down a line his already scarred face in an explosion of quickly purified and cauterised blood that turned into steam within seconds. Arendus rounded on the boy who had over extended himself, grinning down at the eldest of the newest generation of Lucerna heirs with his horribly scarred and pitted face that had been the recipient of hundreds, if not thousands of blows in the Master of Violence's bloody and brutal path to the role. It was horrifying, like someone had taken a blade to it and made sure that no single square inch of the tanned skin was without scratches, stitches, cuts, pockmarks or scabs, and Alexander's vertical slice down it was simply another addition to the array of battle wounds.

The middle Lucerna felt slightly disgusted at the leer that the older Welkalite directed towards him, as the vast majority of Arendus Draal's face was raw muscle and flesh with few sections that had a thin layer of unhealthy skin stretched over it, and staggered backwards from the Master of Violence, who grinned widely in a sickening display of exposed moving tendons and muscles, his bloodshot red eyes alighting on the seventeen year old as the numerous veins on his forehead that had survived the abuse wreaked upon it pulsed with the adrenaline infused blood rushing through them. Arendus capitalised on the distraction, rushing at his opponent who had suddenly lost the advantage of being on the offensive, which was exactly what Alex had wanted him to do by feigning disgust in the first place – it was obvious that Arendus didn't know much about him (which was a good thing because Alexander had access to barely any information concerning the Master of Violence), as otherwise he would have known that Alex wouldn't be too fazed by his scarred visage and that his terror was mostly feigned.

Alex knew that he was taking a large risk by pulling this type of manoeuvre, as if the gladiator warrior saw through his ruse then it would be easy enough to feint an attack and have Alex respond to that instead of being able to counter an actual assault, so to that end the boy used all of his years of training of playing jokes on his little brother and more seriously lying to his elders about feeling fine when in actual fact he had been ill or hurt in the past so that they didn't worry about him and focussed more upon fragile Caiellis to ensure that his face was set in perfect and youthful startled shock, making sure that he looked exactly like a seventeen year old that had been exposed to the brutality of some battle but not as much as he had and was still innocent after all of it with his face cast in a hopefully convincing mixture of surprise and horror as the Master of Violence swept towards him, whipping his axe round from where it had been clashing with the boy's elegant sword and aiming it forward so that it would cleave into Alexander within seconds if he continued on his current course of staggering backwards in shock.

If the eldest prince hadn't been planning the movement out, he would have been caught by Arendus's axe as the hulking Master of Violence had anticipated that despite his false shock he still had finely attuned combat instincts that had been highlighted in the earlier stages of the fight and would have sprang back to dodge the blow, expecting Alexander to take that course of action so angling his axe so that it would cleave into him no matter how far back he managed to get in the short space of time and conjuring up spears of rock that pierced the ground on either side of the Lucaelian adolescent and would have impaled him had he leapt to the left or right to avoid the blow, as while they wouldn't have killed him because of the enchantments that Aurelia (the angel who was swooping forwards to his aid and delayed by numerous spikes of stone that erupted out of the ground, but Arendus was entirely concentrating upon him since if he killed the Summoning the angel would dissipate without any need to avoid her blow) had gifted him with wrapping around his body, they would have immobilised him and left him easy prey for the brutish warrior's gigantic and mana nullifying axe.

However, the Master of Violence was entirely prepared for Alex to charge forward into him, recovering from his apparent shock instantaneously and propelling himself towards the towering man with his shining sword that radiated the holy and protective light of the Lucerna family bloodline that would guard the good and punish the evil of the world, his speed augmented by the auras that blessed him with their mana infused power as the magic of light and emotion bled through his skin and was channelled into his sword as he plunged it into the Master of Violence's heart, punching through the bronze armour that covered it as blood rushed through his veins exultantly and pounded through his head, the momentum of Arendus immediately falling as he was stabbed into by the sword that had once belonged to Alexander's father.

Blood exploded from the man's back, and Alex wrenched his sword out with the intent to do as much damage to the other organs as possible and in case any other Welkalites, until a large hand wrapped around his wrist and his heart skipped a beat. Though the action seemed to take years, less than a second elapsed as the blonde flicked his eyes up to look into the brutally disfigured and bullish features of his opponent, the bloodshot eyes of the man lit up with ecstatic joy and exultation that he wouldn't have originally expected from the seemingly dour Master of Violence but conformed to his first interpretation of the man after hearing his title for the first time and learning about what the Order of Violence was in their forced visit to the city they were now in, although neither he nor Caiellis visited the Champion's Quarter or watched any of the displays of wanton savagery so favoured by the Welkalite public.

He vaguely recalled once talking with Kaled, Caiellis's roommate at the Scholaria Magnus, about what his life had been like after Cai passed his Summoning trial, with the fifteen year old that vaguely looked up to him telling him that he had fought in some of the much smaller events against weak Unbound creatures in order to get money so that he could help pay the extortionate taxes set by the Order of Wealth. But right now he didn't have the time to think about the past, didn't have the time to think about anything other than his current situation as the Master of Violence, who had a vice-like grip on his forearm, smiled down at him with a predatory grimace, blood streaming down his face both from the wound Alex had inflicted earlier and from his lips, Alex's blade evidently having pierced into his lungs as he had stabbed into the Master of Violence, though Draal did not seem overly concerned as he squeezed with a tremendous strength that instantly cut off the seventeen year old's blood flow to his right sword hand in a dire reflection of how Alexander had defeated his little brother in the Summoning sparring match they had undertaken.

The teenager heard Aurelia cry out in zealous and fanatical fury as a maddening crimson glow surrounded the Master of Violence, whose triumphant expression was inflected with a vague smugness that indicated he had been aware of Alexander's ploy all along and had baited him into reacting in that manner, sacrificing his own health in order to lure the oldest Lucerna prince in for the kill as Red and Black mana pulsated out of him and the place where his heart should have been, tendrils of bloody darkness that resembled arteries and veins from a nightmarish distortion of the vital structure of the blood vessels of humans pouring out from the hole in his chest and dislodging Alexander's sword as the Master of Violence was crushing his wrist as he the boy blasted a lancing beam of blinding light from his reserves of mana that were not yet depleted – he still had a relatively substantial amount of time before he was, and he would be damned if he didn't help his brave little brother and father by surviving now and overcoming his current foe -, though it was more to force him to block the powerful magic with the axe to prevent him from hacking it into Alexander and killing the teenager rather than any hope of dealing damage.

However, Alexander was feeling the strain of the wounds he had sustained in this fight mixed with those that hadn't fully recovered despite his insistence that they had from his ordeal with Aksua after their first visit to the City of Pleasure, and had exhausted a lot of mana in the blow that he had just rammed into the Welkalite with seemingly no effect to the man apart from the wounds it caused, as either Arendus was immune to the pain due to the amount of wounds he had obviously received in his life or was revelling in it like some of the other sick members of his debased nation, and as he tried to pull away the man increased the intensity of his grip. Alex could feel the bones in his wrist grinding together and reaching breaking point, and in a desperate attempt to get the much stronger male away from him he released a blast of radiating Red and White mana in an explosion all around him, forcing the Welkalite to let go of his wrist as he pulled his sword away, the ignited air around him obscuring his vision because of the large release of mana he had emitted.

His instincts that barely ever failed him then flared into life, and as he leapt backwards he barely avoided the large axe that hacked through the light surrounding him, the edge of the black metal now trailing blood that was not of a natural origin and left trails of smoky crimson imprinted into the air as Alex felt the Master of Violence's almost non-existent mana levels flaring into life through the wound that he himself had caused, sinister and savage Red and Black mana leaking out of the gladiator and staining the already abused ground around him as the Rain of Gore seemingly increased in intensity, although whether that was centred around his battle with Arendus and the demonic taint that was emanating from the man or had occurred across the whole battlefield because of the huge demonic presence (that was far larger than Alexander had ever sensed before and as such must have belonged to one of the most powerful demons that would rival, or even massively outclass, an exalted First Sisterhood angel – which meant that it was a good job they had three) was a mystery.

The obscuring cloud of dust and light that Alex had caused to billow around the courtyard disappeared, revealing the Master of Violence stood quite close to him as more sinewy ropes of Black and Red mana pulsated out of him, wriggling across the ground to form up next to him. Alex saw his Summoning, the Warleader, rush towards his size but get blasted away by a chaotic and screaming explosion of the mana of disorder, selfish passion and unadulterated love of violence, savage murder and bloodshed. Draal rushed him again, the man closer than he had originally thought, and as Alex deflected one axe blow with his sword and sidestepped a lashing return strike that had been possible because he hadn't taken all of the force of the first blow, merely directed it elsewhere so that he didn't have to focus the impact on his wounded and most probably broken wrist that throbbed with ignored agony like a petulant child demanding attention from uncaring parents who was essentially taken no notice of.

Then the man shot forwards, even faster than before because of the mana pouring through him and coursing through his corrupted veins as the magical energy that had crawled along the floor began to form the semblance of a figure as spikes of barbed metal rammed out of the ground and created a huge serrated barrier already dripping with claret fluid from the bloody torrent of the now shrieking Tempest of Craving that extended high into the sky and prevented the Warleader from getting to grips with the one assaulting her stricken Summoner. After a brief delay, a bolt of crimson lightning attracted to the macabre fence, electrifying it as vibrant red and pink energy fulminated through it and made breaching the crackling walls an even more dangerous proposition.

Alex was taken aback by the sudden speed the man put on, automatically raising his sword as Red mana wrapped around his free left fist and ignited it with holy fire that would augment his human strength – which was already heightened by the fact he had Summoned – with magical resonance, blocking an overhead strike of the blurring axe that the boy had trouble following with his blue eyes as they flicked to track the blade but absorbing all of the tremendous and inhuman force behind the blow upon his already damaged wrist that erupted in agony at the jarring impact that shook the hurt bones and forced him to pull away, already twisting away from a strike he knew would come from one of the Master of Violence's other free limbs and sending a spinning flaming kick at the man that was unexpectedly blocked by a snaking tendril of raw flesh that wrapped around his ankle, yanking him off balance and making him empathise immensely with how Caiellis must feel when they sparred, to be utterly at the mercy of someone much stronger than him who only had to grab hold of him to fling him backwards.

He twisted mid air to try and change the situation to be in his favour, as an amused and growling laugh like thousands of serrated blades made from bone being dragged against each other mixed with a scream of agony and pain of a person submitted to endless torture erupted out of the pile of flesh that was forming a humanoid – though much bigger than that – shape, the storm above the city reacting frenziedly to this new demonic arrival, which was strange as though Alex sensed two other demons – not counting the massive thing, the personification of hedonistic destructionat the centre of the city that his family was embroiled in fighting against – in the City of Pleasure, none had been greeted as such by the Tempest of Craving, which did not bode well for him whatsoever, though he had little time to ruminate upon the thoughts as when he flipped round in the air to launch an overhead strike at the Master of Violence with his blazing sword the tendril of blood that was wrapped around his left ankle suddenly grew spines and stabbed them into his lower leg.

The boy cried out at the utter agony as pain flared up throughout his nervous system, the spikes of magic digging into his leg and drawing blood pulsing dark magic through his bloodstream that amplified the pain that he was experiencing, making him remember when he had been in a similar situation and Aksua had been draining his blood and corrupting the remnants of it, and although he had Summoned which made him significantly more resistant to the magic this was worse because his rejuvenating and healing powers that automatically surrounded him had to be deactivated due to the sadistic Rain of Gore that was the perfect antithesis to the Lucaelian force.

He was flung towards the Master of Violence, but this time not out of his own volition as the barbed spikes dug into his leg, and tried to bring his sword up as he was launched through the air to block a strike of the man's axe, his wrist exploding in agony that he gritted his teeth through and ignored as the axe ground against his blade and removed the mana that was suffusing the strong Lucaelian steel. The boy poured fiery Red mana mixed with purifying and disenchanting White mana out of his leg as the tendril vindictively ripped away from him at the touch of the holy magic, tearing out through Alexander's skin as it recoiled from him and dumped him on the ground, where he was pressed backwards by Arendus's axe and staggered to try and resist the unrelenting force of the Master of Violence as the structure of veins and vessels that was making up a large humanoid figure began to take a more pronounced shape, armoured plates of muscle and sinew forming up around a body of black yet raw flesh, but Alex couldn't look over at the Summoning as he strained against Arendus Draal once again, the man wearing him down over the course of the battle.

He lashed out with an experimental kick meant to catch the man off guard and potentially inflict some damage onto his resilient hide, more of a feint than anything else so that he could distract the Master of Violence and get him away from him because of the fact he would have been able to pull his sword away without getting hurt if the Welkalite moved, but right now the angle that they were fighting at meant that he couldn't get any leverage to twist the axe away without it burying its heavy blade in his chest, something he would prefer to avoid at the current moment. The maddening laughter increased in intensity, volume and insanity, becoming something more akin to a blood-curdling cry of the desire to inflict pain upon others and Arendus smiled, reading Alexander's move all the way through and grabbing onto his leg, yanking him forwards whilst also dropping his axe and shoving it at the boy.

Alex automatically stepped backwards away from the blade as the full weight of it suddenly slid down his sword, the splintered handle of the axe ramming into his already abused wrist and forcing him to drop his own weapon if he wanted any chance of defending himself against the Master of Violence whom he launched a vicious kick at as he was dragged towards him by the man's hand, the strength of the grip almost definitely leaving large bruises on his relatively pale skin and hurting the bones underneath, but it was nothing that Alex wouldn't be able to ignore if he wanted to survive any longer and wanted to defeat the powerful Welkalite foe that he was fighting against. His second kick, which was delivered by his free but wounded left foot that was covered in fire – which mimicked the actions of the other leg, though Arendus seemed to be unconcerned by the fact that his hand was gripping a golden and orange flame that flickered around it – slammed into the man's bare abdomen, charring the flesh but bouncing off the solid muscle with little to no effect as he tried to squirm away from the Master of Violence, who growled and twisted Alexander's leg at a painful angle.

The boy was starting to feel slightly light-headed, but allowed more mana to rush out of him just before agony pulsed through his body, Red and Black mana coursing through his veins from a selection of spines that were launched into him from the demon that had entered the world, piercing into specific clusters of nerves as they rammed into him with a sadistic glee and subsumed him in paralysis for the moment. The Welkalite brute he was fighting let go of his leg as he thrashed, kicking desperately as the pain resounded through his body, the frantic need not to become helpless and at a vile enemy's mercy ever again fuelling his limbs as Red mana rushed through them, battling a hedonistic and bloodthirsty perversion of itself aided by corrupting and immoral Black mana and losing, and then punched him in the face again, the fact that he twisted away lessening the impact of the blow, though the bruise that was already there was exacerbated as he was knocked flat off of his feet onto the warm and blood slick but hard stone.

Alexander quickly rolled to the side to avoid a large boot slamming down on the space that he had been upon, and then juddered forwards to dodge a spray of spikes like the ones already causing him immense amounts of pain fired from where Arendus's demon had entered the world and the tide had been turned, Alex thrown onto the defensive in the face of the Master of Violence's renewed offensive as he blocked a punch on his bracers, twisting to try and get himself upright so that he could fight back after another powerful kick that he launched was rendered utterly ineffective by the auras of Black and Red swirling around the giant and surrounding his body in a blood red glow that emanated out of his tanned and gore-covered skin as he lanced a fist at the eldest Lucerna prince.

Alex raised his hands, a shimmering barrier of Red and White forming in the space between his open palms that were pouring out mana in a way that Aurelia had taught him, the Welkalite too far into his momentum to pull back now, and Alexander was glad that he had abandoned his axe that was the bane of magic because now it meant that the variety of combat tricks he had at his disposal could now be utilised, such as this one that would reflect the damage the Master of Violence would deal back onto himself. He didn't really like the vengeance spells, but supposed that was because it was just turning the enemy's strength against them instead of proving one's own strength, but really in the midst of this brutal and desperate combat he couldn't care less.

The man's huge fist crashed into the barrier, the force of the blow directed backwards into Arendus instead of at Alexander, who used the brief distraction to attempt to scramble away before the man attacked him again, needing to meet up with his angel as the Tempest of Craving was ruining any chances of mentally communicating with her meaning that he didn't know what she was doing, though judging by the fact that the demon wasn't attacking him and had left before he could get a clear look at it. Arendus's knuckles exploded in blood, gore erupting out the closed and huge fingers, his bones within them fracturing and ramming themselves out of the back of his hand, but instead of dissuading the man it instead seemed to energise him as he rounded on Alexander again.

"I will make you pay for that, you little brat!" the Master of Violence snarled, coughing up a spray of blood and spitting it in Alex's direction, the wound that was in his chest still gaping open and pouring with blood despite the fact that the demon he had Summoned had dragged himself out from the hole, his scarred face that was also leaking blood to mingle with the unnaturally vibrant contents of the Rain of Gore as it cascaded down the towering man, his damaged hand surrounded by the pulsing and violence-inducing glow in a greater intensity as he forcefully push the dislocated finger bones back into his hand in a loud snap that must have been extremely painful, though the Welkalite didn't seem overly fazed by the discomfort. Arendus suddenly flung his hand out, an oily and bloody fireball erupting into life and crashing through the air at the prince, who performed another dodging manoeuvre to get out of the way of being incinerated and then slipped in an uncharacteristic display of clumsiness that had him cursing profusely until he looked at what he had tripped up on with his diving move.

The detatched head of Telaia Gladium stared up at him with dead eyes that were wide open in shock, terror and what seemed, to Alexander's eyes, to be accusation, transfixing the prince in place as he gazed at the head of the captain that his own had almost slammed into in his tumble on her body that was a metre or so away from her face that glared at the middle prince in an expression of pure betrayal, or so Alex's mind imagined it as he retreated backwards in horror, apologies almost spilling from his lips before he remembered that he was in the middle of a battle that was occurring because he had failed to protect those from Division Five that had looked up to him for inspiration to get through this siege of the City of Pleasure, just like how he had failed to guard his little brother and stop him from recklessly forging ahead to fight on his own because he felt that he had something to prove to both his older brother and his father, and how he had failed to stop his little sibling and dad from arguing because he had been too pathetic to intervene and too self-centred to notice it.

He swiftly spun around, harshly reminding himself that he was in the middle of a battle and shouldn't get distracted by that kind of thing, as while it did empower his magic Alexander knew that he had to concentrate on the fight and think of that in the background, or alternatively think of the things that he had to protect and were precious to him instead of focussing on the things that he had failed in, but by them it was too late as an imposing figure with bloodshot and terrifying eyes loomed in front of him, Black and Red mana swirling violently around him in a maelstrom of bloody black shadows that whispered words of blood-thirst and malice and made the back of Alex's mind ache with the desire to do violence upon those weaker than him, before a booted leg slammed into his gut again and he was kicked across the bloody ground, some of his ribs that hadn't yet recovered from his ordeal with Aksua and as such were more fragile breaking again.

Alex suppressed a yelp of pain, growling it through his teeth instead as he instinctively raised his arms, coating with mana so that the Master of Violence hopefully wouldn't be able to attack him any longer, though he was hugely on the back foot and needed to regain the initiative – or even bring the battle nearer to even ground – was essential if he was to survive this new onslaught, as Arendus's magic (that the man wasn't actively casting, it was just his violent aura that bled out of him) was amplifying the pain and agony of his wounds and disrupting his normal train of thought and distracting his usually extremely perceptive instincts with the screaming, primal desire at the back of his mind to inflict pain and kill, murder the Master of Violence and show him who the true master of violence was, rip out his spine and feast upon his still beating heart as it poured steaming blood across his hands and...

Alex shook his head of the vile images, some of them making even him feel sick inside at the fact that his opponent would have given into the desire to commit all of these savage debaucheries, partaken in these bloody degeneracies and enjoyed them with his sadistic mind while the demonic patrons of the New Empire of Passion watched and laughed, feasting upon the sins of pleasure and pain and the destructive loss of life in all the hedonistic context of entertainment that made Alexander's blood boil just thinking of it as he tried to reinforce the mental barriers of White mana around his mind so that the hallucinations would have no effect on him, but as he was shown increasingly violent and disturbing illustrations of bloodshed he concentration, focus and ultimately resolve was beginning to waver.

He barely felt another punch crashing into his guard of bracers, smashing apart the sanctified metal that Caiellis had personally blessed for his seventeenth birthday and had served him well ever since he had started wearing them and sending pieces of it digging into his athletic forearms, drawing blood all around as the large fist knocked the crossed arms away from each other, utterly ignoring the flames of incandescence that had been wrapped around them as bloody shadows surrounded the hand. Time seemed once again to slow down, each second lasting years to Alexander's adrenaline filled mind that was perpetually assaulted by scenes of horrifyingly violent depravity of bloodshed, the claret vital fluids that sprayed out from his arms when the blessed Lucaelian metal cut into them lazily arcing through the air in front of his eyes, every detail picked out in crystal clarity.

He could see how the crackling crimson electricity of the Tempest of Craving was reflected and refracted in each individual droplet, the unholy light bonding with the golden illuminescence from his White and Red mana that was still filling his eyes with Aurelia's ardent fire as the drops of his own blood mingled mid air with the bloody tears of gore the abused sky cried across the battlefield, the natural and vital scarlet of the lifeblood that belonged to him spilling around the unnaturally vibrant globules of cruor and coating each other in the different yet essentially identical shades of red, each shining with the light of the sources around it and brightened in a different manner with each.

Alexander frowned as he looked closer, seeing his own reflection in one particularly long spray of droplets ejected by a sliced vein within his cut arm, a beaten, battered and bruised seventeen year old with once bright and shining blonde hair now dirty and matted down with torrents of gore, streaked with trails of blood from himself, Arendus Draal and the Rain of Gore, but the strangest thing about it was his eyes. Instead of being piercing yet warm blue that shone with Lucaelian charisma and the zealous fire of the Warleader in protecting innocents and slaying the guilty, they were bloodshot and wide, full of a malice the boy knew – or thought he had known – that he didn't possess, that didn't belong to him, the predatory lust for ferocity and barbarism coating his sapphire irises in threatening intent.

The reflection smiled, wide and savagely enthusiastic, at him, exposing teeth wet with crimson blood that scintillated in the bright flash of another streak of pink and indulgently devastating lightning, and Alexander could clearly pick out that there was the blood from two different sources on his teeth – one was from himself, as his unholy reflection had bitten through its own tongue in its primal wish for murder and violent cruelty, and to his horror the other was from someone else, as it wasn't the abnormally vibrant blood perpetually spat out by the vile Tempest of Craving that the Welkalite Orders of Passion had willingly conjured above their own capital city, ignorant of the damage it would cause and the true corrupt nature of their dark patronage that would see them all dead or enslaved to the whims of demons possessed of a hedonism far more evil than any human could ever imagine.

However, he was soon to find out who it belonged to, as while one droplet showed his madly grinning face that scared Alexander like little else did, another that splattered past his vision (taking minutes to do so that would have been seconds had time been progressing normally) showed another scene – or the same, just from a different angle, and the adolescent was presented with a second, and even more shocking image that made his blood run cold and his heart miss a beat. There, pushed up against a wall with his gaunt, pale and innocent face screwed up in pain, the Black Sun stark against his white right cheek (and had Alex been thinking clearly he would have wondered why his reflection was affected by the Rain of Gore yet his apparent victim was not, but right now the eldest prince was enraptured and transfixed by the sight of the single worse thing that could ever happen to him), was Caiellis.

His green eyes showed what Alexander could still see in the first few drops of his own blood, a terrifying and intimidating distortion of the middle Lucerna covered in blood that was mostly not his own, and the older of the two potential heirs to the Lucerna throne wished that there was some way he could assuage the terror in his young and wide emerald orbs, but his protective instinct quickly turned to a sick sensation that made Alex's stomach churn and want to violently expel the contents of the hearty breakfast he had eaten this morning when he soon realised that the absolute fear in his little brother's eyes was directed towards him. He vaguely felt himself being lifted off of his feet, though was utterly focussed upon the image of his younger brother in pain that he knew wasn't real but was powerless to tear his gaze away from.

The thirteen year old was crying, tears of fright and pain spilling out of his distressed eyes, and Alex noticed with horror that blood was trickling out of his little brother's mouth, the torrent increasing in intensity as he let out a strangled cough, spraying more blood across the false-Alex's arms and hands and he was pressed – more like slammed – harder against the stone wall, the boy's fragile head bashing against the unyielding granite, but what concerned the big brother more was the bruises and cuts that had seemingly suddenly appeared on Cai's cheeks, painful hand marks covering his cheeks as slices inflicted by a precise yet sadistic knife bled crimson fluids down his face. The boy's lips were blue where the blood that was bubbling out of his mouth hadn't streamed onto them and coated them with red, but Alexander couldn't yet see what the cause of Caiellis's current distress was, until another few streaks of blood spurted out from my own face?, Alexander's vision spontaneously shifting and following the new liquid droplets of crimson life that leapt through the air.

The third image was the same as the second, only as if the person that had been providing the vision – the blood-reflection of Alexander – had shifted backwards slightly, the real seventeen year old crying out in horror when he saw that one of his hands were wrapped around his little brother's throat, gripping the centre of it painfully and digging in with the clear intent to kill, but somehow even worse than that was the dagger pressed into the boy's neck, the efficient and ornate Lucaelian silver reserved only for nobles and those who had earned favour slicing into Caiellis's flesh and drawing blood as the little guy squirmed in his brother's death grip, shrieking in choked pain as the knife – Cai's self defence knife that he used to cut himself? - was sliced further into him.

No no no no no! No! This can't be happening! Stop it! This isn't real! Alexander's panicked mind shouted as all of the blood drifting through the air around him showed the same image, the one of Caiellis screaming in pain and clawing at his big brother, the one was was inflicting the agony upon the thirteen year old, and he thrashed in an iron-hard grip to try to get to the aid of his frail sibling, to stop the bloody refraction of him from hurting his innocent little brother any more, the utter betrayal and pain in the boy's eyes freezing him to the spot as the older brother that he had loved, looked up to and trusted for all of his short life was killing him.

This is all your fault, an insidious voice whispered into his mind, the words as sharp and agonising as the knife he was driving into his little brother's throat, cutting into Alexander's abused mind as he shook his head, repeating the mantra that the images weren't real over and over again despite how hollow the assurances sounded to him, because this was his fault. It didn't matter that the pictures of his younger brother in torment that Alex himself was causing were not real in the sense that they were not happening right now, because the words stabbing into his mind were right and whatever happened to his little brother whilst fighting the most powerful being the middle prince had ever sensed before was due to him. Yes, that's right. You were too weak to protect him. You were too cold to listen to his concerns, you were too stupid to see that he was going to try and solve everything on his own, you were too untrustworthy and pathetic, still recovering from wounds that you should have healed days ago, to be good enough to be worthy of his plans.

The voice was a mixture of the demonic whispering/exultant shouting that the first had been, and now tinged with traces of his own voice, the dejected and defeated tone coming from his personal failure to stop his little brother from feeling that his life was worthless and that he had nothing to live for, that no one would ever respect him or love him unless he risked his own life in a dangerous attack on the Master of Rapture alone, and to prevent him from arguing with their dad in a way that he, being the eldest son of one participant and the older brother of the other, should have been able to solve. And now his little brother – the one person that it was his job to protect more than anyone else could easily die, and he wouldn't be able to do anything about it. The worst part of it all was that it was his fault, that by not being a good enough big brother he had caused his younger sibling to do this and to think that this was the only course of action.

Alexander cried out his defiance of that fact, before realising that he had barely made any sound at all. Reality snapped back into focus and time resumed its normal course, the specific droplets of blood showing the youngest Lucerna in pain falling at high speed through the air and splattering upon the already covered ground of the courtyard entrance to the Slaughterhouse Colosseum, and dark spots flickered into life at the corner of Alex's vision as he blinked to try and clear them, which had the added effect of removing the blood that had dripped into his eyes and had also been obscuring his sight, and instantly gagged when he tried to breathe and felt a strong grip clamping around his own throat.

Even more adrenaline pumped through the vessels in his skull as his heightened heartbeat pounded within his head, pain erupting across specific points in his body where he assumed that he had been hit as he kicked his legs when Alex registered that he had been lifted off of the ground, his boots slamming into tough and solid flesh and armour that didn't flinch at all under the frantic thrashing as Alexander's vision was restored. The seventeen year old was presented with the baleful but also victorious visage of the Master of Violence, his scarred face twisted into a sadistic leer as the boy felt the pressure around his neck increasing. Flicking his eyes down confirmed the fact that he had been hoisted off of the earth by his throat, Arendus's massive hand encircling it as he coughed for breath, the dejection that had flooded his thoughts and left him powerless to defend against the much physically stronger Welkalite pressing against his mind and becoming mixed with his defiance of the fate he now found himself in, the desperate need to survive so that he could aid his family and people shuddering throughout his skull as his blood pounded against his ears.

Alex knew he didn't have much time left. He couldn't get even a trickle of air into his burning lungs, and his head started going lighter and lighter as he tried to feebly pull the man off of him, any mana that he tried to conjure swiftly battered down back inside of him by the defeatist attitude that had developed within him ever since realising just how badly he had failed his little brother, that he deserved this and more for his failure to be a good big brother to Caiellis and for his failure to lead and protect those that it was his duty to keep alive. Arendus was snarling something at him, increasing the intensity of his grip despite the fact that Alex hadn't thought that he could possibly squeeze any tighter and fully empathising with his brother's terror at almost being choked to death by the Master of Violence, but he couldn't hear the man's brutish words over the pounding within his skull.

Arendus's already hellish face was starting to be distorted into something even more terrifying as Alexander's oxygen starved mind registered that this was the last sight he would ever see, his vision twisting the man's expression until the black spots covered it completely and blocked out his sight of the Master of Violence. Every sensation was growing distant to him, the holy fire that had previously been flowing through his Lucerna limbs dying down as he tried to speak, to shout his defiance into the man's face as he felt his life slowly slipping away from him, his feeble resistance having little effect on the man's veiny arms and hands as he tried desperately to pull them away from him, despite the fact that in his mind he had already given up and was submitting to the insidious whispers at the back of his skull that accentuated his agony and brought his guilt to the fore, amplifying it to such a point that he couldn't do anything but be washed over by it.

The extremities of his limbs were becoming number and number, and Alex faintly felt tears welling up and spilling out of his eyes in a way that they barely ever did – because he was an older brother, and it was his job to be tough when his little brother cried so that he could protect him and assuage his emotions – joining the blood that was already streaming down his cheeks from a cut above his forehead that bled into his eyes and the ever present Rain of Gore constantly jetting out claret fluids from the Tempest of Craving, its maw opening up even more and spewing an increased number of insane creations and devils onto the abused Usnaan below as it rumbled in expectation of even greater killing.

Is this it then? He thought, absently, like he wasn't worried at all about his impending death, before a golden lance of determination was driven through his mind and smashed through the web of pain and guilt that had formed a lattice around his adamant resolution not to be defeated, his promise to Division Five that he would not let their deaths, their noble sacrifices of their own lives in service to the Kingdom of Light, be in vein, and his need to protect and preserve his family because it was his duty as the eldest son to do so. I'm a Lucerna, dammit! We don't give up so easily! Fight back, Alexander! It is your duty to fight and protect the people of Lucael, and if you fucking give up now and let your worthless ass die at the hand of this bastard then the words that you directed towards yourself earlier are true! You still haven't paid this son of a bitch back for what he did to your baby brother, and I'll be damned if I let you surrender now!

A fiery meteor crashed across his vision, the incandescent and golden flames surrounding the occupant of them powered by Alexander's sudden burst of defiance and energy, streaking across the corner of his eyes and into Arendus Draal, who was launched across the courtyard, the hand that was restricting Alex's breathing slackening and falling from his throat, joined by the rest of the arm attached to it that landed with a wet thunk on the sodden earth of the entrance to the Slaughterhouse Colosseum, the straight edged sword that shone with a divine glow of righteous and zealous anger leaving after-images on Alexander's retina as the black spots faded and were replaced by simple blurriness.

The middle Lucerna fell to his knees, his vision and head swimming as he greedily drank upon the oxygen that flooded into his starved lungs, and was sure that if he hadn't had to breath out the waste products of his respiring cells he could have inhaled the air forever, it was the best air he had ever tasted despite the fact that it was tainted by the acrid stench of burning corruption that felt like ash upon his tongue combined with the scent of fresh meat and blood that spilled into his gaping mouth. Instead of pressing the attack against the one who had been assaulting her Summoner, Aurelia let go of one of her Swords of Flame, where it remained hovering in the air ready for her to pick it up and wield it again, grabbing hold of the panting boy and gently hoisting him to his feet as Arendus did the same on the other side of the courtyard, pulling himself up whilst his greater demon simply watched and made no move to help him.

As his vision cleared once again, Alexander looked into the fiery golden eyes of his First Sisterhood angel, noting that her magnificent white (though stained with crimson) wings were burnt, hacked and cut into and becoming filled with even more anger at the things that the demon Arendus had Summoned had clearly done to his guardian seraph as she had tried to protect him, before she placed her palm to his forehead.

The angel's slender and delicate but immensely strong hand was extremely hot, and would have burnt anyone that she considered an enemy, but to Alexander it was a soothing balm as golden energies ran through his mind. She may not be able to heal her Summoner, but Aurelia would be damned she didn't destroy if the malicious and cruel parasite that the greater demon – one of the most powerful – had placed inside of him. The Warleader was more angry than Alex had ever seen before. And that was saying something about an angel that was the epitome of righteous, bordering on fanatical, zeal when directed towards her enemies but could be remarkably calm and friendly in the presence of allies, her eyes shining with her hatred of the enemy they were fighting was well as more than a little angry guilt, forcing Alexander to process that, in a similar way to him, Aurelia had been full of hatred for herself that it had taken her that long to get to the seventeen year old's aid.

"This is going to hurt, Alexander," the angel intoned, her words filled with a sympathy that did little to disguise the passionate rage that suffused her otherworldly voice with an intimidating and slightly terrifying timbre that had the boy incredibly glad that the Angel of War was on his side instead of against him, and he nodded to show that he was ready for whatever she was going to do. He was aware that while the purifying fire that she may rush through him wouldn't normally hurt because of its healing effects, now that he was affected by the torrent of blood from the holy storm it might be agonising now, but gritted his teeth and prepared to go through with the pain.

He was thoroughly unprepared for the Warleader to reach behind him and grab onto something that was wedged within his back, probably having stabbed into him when the demon fired its projectiles of corruption at the boy when it was first entering reality, and was pulsing Red and Black mana throughout his body in alternating waves of pain that he had simply attributed to his other wounds sustained in that initial barrage and gotten used to it, and tear it out of him, crushing the fleshy thing that had been rammed into Alexander with spiked tendrils in her hand as it mewled pathetically, burning in the holy fire surrounding Aurelia. Alex arched his back in pain as the last tendrils of the creature were painfully dragged out of him, hissing through his teeth as the torment flooded through him, but he already felt slightly better because of the fact that the painful and tormenting magic of Red and Black was no longer rushing through his bloodstream.

He nodded his thanks to his angel, who returned in kind and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder for a second, murmuring, "You share a trait of mine, young Alexander, in blaming yourself for things that are far out of your control. However, you are correct in thinking that we need to finish this fight relatively fast so that when can help your father and brother, but do not ever think that your life is worthless. You are a Lucerna prince, one of the most selfless of the family that I have been blessed with and given the holy duty of being their angelic guide through the world, and you are strong enough to defeat this demon-worshipping cretin." She turned her furious gaze upon the Master of Violence, who was prodding the cauterised stump of his right arm with a kind of sick curiosity, not flinching at all when his fingers were dragged across the burnt flesh and then picking his axe up off of the muddy and bloody ground.

"Don't be so angry, Aurelia. I've barely started on him yet," a rasping voice, like a combination between numerous fractal blades being excruciatingly scraped along one another and then the tempestuous booming that the second oldest Lucerna had heard from the Tempest of Craving and the demon that Caiellis and their dad was fighting at the centre of the city near to the Palace of Desire, but less ruinous and more hedonistic, taunted as it sliced through the air and hurt Alex's ear drums, amplifying the pain that he already felt just with its words alone, and the teenager turned to look at the large beast stood upright and sinisterly by the side of the Master of Violence as it grinned sadistically.

It was a tall creature, easily eclipsing even Arendus's formidable and inhuman height of at least seven feet, clad in black armour burnished the colour of raw flesh and rippling with a life of its own, looking to Alex like the greater demon's armour was a part of itself – which must have been the case, since the way that the infernal Sancturia denizen had been formed would seem to suggest that. It was the most heavily armoured demon Alexander had ever seen, making up for its lack of any form of wings with the platemail that covered its chest and shoulders with a fluted but sadistic and barbaric pattern, the gauntlets that enclosed each of the demon's hands moulded into a similar form. The actual skin of the demon simply was raw flesh and muscle, sinewy tendons and fibrous crimson strands of tissue forming the being's arms and head.

It had four horns arcing backwards from its skull-like face, though what would normally have been bone was the same meaty substance that made up the rest of the demon's form, and instead of eyes it had empty pits of blackness that promised an eternity of unrelenting pain for any that landed themselves in its malevolent clutches, and despite the fact that it had no eyes Alex could still feel the piercing scrutiny of the demon, like he was simply a bag of meat that was to be used to experiment upon with different methods of causing pain and that's only purpose was to inflict torture upon, the demon licking its lips with a four-pronged forked tongue pierced with several gleaming white spikes in expectation. In lieu of having any wings, the greater denizen of the abyss of Sancturia wore a cape of a mixture of many different shades and textures of human and angel skin, with a loincloth hanging down from its frontal armour of the same vile material.

It held a relatively small (it was large and tall, but not as wide or high as a weapon belonging to a being of the demon's size should have been) spear in its left hand, with the glinting head of the weapon shaped surprisingly like an inhumanly proportioned scalpel, a precise weapon that despite its lack of any form of corrupt iconography or obvious debasement was still steeped in cruel intent and malevolent power, giving Alexander no illusions about what would happen to him or Aurelia should they allow themselves to be touched by the demon's blade.

"I love you Lucernas. Unlike the weaker and pathetic individuals that perpetuate your pitiful race, you can withstand so much more agony," the demon purred, stepping to Arendus Draal's side as the man scowled at him, evidently possessed of a dislike of his resident demon that he had traded his original Summoning for in the unholy ritual known as an Infernal Bargain, which Alex found as relatively ironic but supposed that the Master of Violence had simply wanted more power to most likely obtain his position of dominance and hadn't bargained on being given such a vocal greater demon that now laughed and sneered at the same time at Aurelia's furious expression, "Do you remember me, little Warleader?"

The fiery seraphim didn't reply, simply grabbing hold of her blade again and releasing her Lucerna Summoner, who was beginning to be filled with the last vestiges of his mana, ready to release it in a final assault against the Master of Violence so that he could get to his younger brother and aid him faster, but he had quickly come to the conclusion that his earlier stance of trying to preserve some of his mana for aiding his brother and dad had essentially been quite stupid and arrogant of him, as Arendus Draal was quite clearly the most powerful foe he had ever faced – including Aksua, as the vampiress had attacked when he and Caiellis had been at their most vulnerable and couldn't access their First Sisterhood angels – and he would need every bit of his magic in order to defeat him, especially now that he had a demon on his side. Even if he didn't have much mana left by the end, he would have taken out one of the strongest Welkalites that were opposing the combined Lucaelian force, and would still try and help Cai and their father and sovereign against the most formidable foe.

"Fine then. Since you refuse to introduce me to your young Summoner, I will have to do it myself. I am known as Zankranith, Master of Cruelties and the favoured scion of Rakdos the Lord of Riots, Lucerna whelp. I will enjoy inflicting as much pain upon your resilient body as possible before consuming your soul-" the demon taunted, before being cut off by a burning retort from Aurelia that left Alexander vaguely stunned because she had never said something like this before, snarling, "Will it be you that consumes my Summoner's soul if he dies here, or Rakdos? I was under the impression that your lord and master Archdemon would want all of the descendants of Matalis Ortus Lucerna for himself and leave none for his underlings."

The demon glared balefully at her, exposing its sharpened fangs and gnashing them together in annoyance as Aurelia stood protectively in front of Alex, her left wing shielding him from any form of magical bombardment the Master of Cruelties could try to assault him from range with and forcing their opponents to go through her first. The boy sensed a change in the posture of Zankranith, his exalted angel's words shattering the haughty and arrogant character it had built up for itself and revealing the base destructive and callous hedonism and savagely underneath as it loped forwards, Alex raising his blade and focussing his mana in preparation for this next stage of a fight that had already nearly had him killed and left him beaten, bruised and with broken ribs.

"I will say that I underestimated you, boy prince, but I will not make that mistake again," Arendus sneered and snarled at him as he retrieved his large axe from where it lay on the floor as Aurelia quickly got Alexander's sword for him, handing him the elegant and blood slick blade, the Master of Violence glaring at him and utterly unperturbed by his newly missing arm as he easily hefted his huge weapon in the other. He paced round to the side of the demon, his heavy footfalls leaving imprints in the sodden ground of the earth that seeped crimson blood out of numerous pores created by the man's geomancy, and continued, "I'm enjoying this fight far more than I expected to, and once I have finished with you I'm looking forward to finding your precious little brother and father. If they are still alive by then."

Alex normally would have replied with something sarcastic, but while Arendus Draal seemed completely unconcerned with his horrific wounds having sustained huge amounts of pain in the past, Alexander was, while more experienced with pain than anyone his age should ever have had to be, in large amounts of agony (though not as much as he had been when he had been in the clutches of the vampire whore Aksua whose wounds that she had inflicted still hadn't fully recovered despite his vaunted Lucerna heritage) and didn't want to risk increasing it by wasting his words on the Welkalite gladiator lord.

His throat throbbed painfully and hurt to much to attempt any form of speech without causing himself unnecessary pain, and all of his body ached, but Alexander had an angel of the most powerful magnitude on his side and was fighting for the cause of righteousness and justice, whereas his degenerate opponent was battling to help preserve his degenerate and sybaritic way of existence, with a corrupt demon to call ally and one arm missing. This would predominantly be a fight between Summonings now, but that wasn't to say that the eldest prince wouldn't get involved and lend his aid to his angel. He would fight until his body gave out and he could no longer move any longer until he won and could go to the help of his precious younger brother that it was his job as an elder sibling to protect and help him realise his destiny and potential. It was the least he could do if he wanted a happy family and to be able to have an enjoyable life once this accursed war ended.

However, his foes were certainly not weak, and Red and Black mana saturated the air, battling for supremacy against the incandescent Red and White of the Warleader and her temporary master, the magic of fire, emotion and passion filling the courtyard with the sensation of impulsive anger that made all four of the combatants want to rush one another and brutally murder them in the name of their conflicting ideals. The tension was reaching a breaking point as each side waited for the other to attack, and Alexander knew for certain that no matter which of the two humans emerged victorious, which of the residents of heaven or hell survived until the end of the battle and earned triumph through the spilled blood of their foes, it would be an extremely hard fight.

.*.*.*.

Marik smiled lovingly at his wife from across the medium sized table to him, the mahogany wood fluted with gold and silver etchings that ran down from either side and showed several abstract patterns of different angels and other prominent Sancturia beings. It had apparently been a particular favourite of the prestigious Queen Arie, who had ruled the kingdom around four hundred years ago, as well as the rest of this room that had been added to the huge palace in her reign.

It was a relatively small but not claustrophobic – more comfortable – compartment of the citadel that had been the current Lucerna family's distant ancestor's favourite place to study in the long days of planning war against the almost forgotten Drenure Kingdom, an ancient rival civilisation that had ignored the Kingdom of Light in favour with its constant wars with the Grafnica Dominion that Marik's father had destroyed, until King Acarn's forlorn expedition into the Deep Forest of the Erian Conclave had left Lucael wide open to attack, an opportunity that King Rakaous of Drenure had been loathe to waste, and when the newly crowned queen returned home she had found it besieged by the destructive forces of the enemy.

The room had also been Emili's favourite place to plan, as while she had been Marik's adviser while his father was on the throne now that he was king his wife had still wanted to help in any way she could, and often provided many other points of view that he wouldn't have considered without her help. The woman liked the feel of the White, Blue and Green mana contained within the room that was simply known as Queen Arie's Study, and as she possessed medium amounts of the former two within her (though that trait had passed onto neither of her sons as far as Marik could tell) he could empathise with that.

When she had first become his adviser at the age of seventeen and lent one of the many rooms within the vast palace that Marik had often wandered and got lost in as a child and inevitably being told off by his father (echoing the wandering he did in the cathedral inside of his mind, where there had been no coldly disciplining parent to stop him or find him), the room had been collecting dust – though it was still tended to by servants, as were most of the places in the Lucerna Palace – and hadn't been used for many, many years, lacking a personality as most of the centuries-old furniture and ornaments had decayed into dust.

That had soon changed when Emili had arrived and instilled the room with her own personality and sense of cluttered order, having had the decaying wallpaper repaired and the maps set upon the walls replaced by modern and accurate versions of what the Lucaelians knew about the world (instead of the vague guesses that the maps in the reign of Arie would have consisted of), and becoming far more comfortable and homely, with a large fireplace on one side that heated the room pleasantly and pictures of her relatives, their marriage and their sons (the latter dominating the personal sanctum of his wife when she didn't want to be in their shared bedroom) – as well as some of her favourite drawings that Alexander had given her that weren't still in the nursery – on a cabinet that she had once had in her bedroom in her parents' house.

It had been the location where she had proposed to him (he had been planning the occurrence for many, many months, making sure that everything would be absolutely perfect using his influence to make it that way, but apparently his wife had had similar ideas and done so the day before he was going to do it – though she still wore the ring that he had bought for her), and it was also the location of her twenty ninth birthday dinner.

In contrast with his own a couple of months earlier, which had been a very formal occasion whereby he had reaffirmed his vows as a king in front of the Light-bearers and other living Lucaelians, Emili's birthday had been a simple celebration with her family simply taking a break from all of the rigours of being a king and queen to enjoy themselves with their two young boys, as Marik's role had been getting increasingly busy with the fraying tensions between the Kingdom of Light and the New Empire of Passion, which meant that he had been spending barely any time at all with his family – the longest time he had seen his wife in the past few months was when he staggered exhausted into their shared bedroom, kissed her on the cheek and went to sleep with an arm draped around her.

Marik had bought his wife a relatively modest topaz necklace that she wore now and had loved instantly, some clothing, books and other small gifts, since Emili hadn't specified for him to get anything. He had set up an adorable routine in the morning where his five year old and one year old – who had mastered the art of walking (well, "toddling" was a more accurate phrase, but he didn't want to detract from Caiellis's achievement) quite quickly into his young life and had put the skill to good use – had presented their mum with some of the presents, though he had a vague sense that his youngest had little idea what was actually going on, although the boy could switch from remarkably self aware to a more normal distracted mode that other one year olds would spend all of their lives in in the blink of an eye. Emili had found it incredibly cute, and it had been a start to a day which both the king and queen had thoroughly enjoyed, simply spending it with their children and each other and revelling in their company.

They had just finished a large meal cooked by the proficient chefs of the palace, though his sons had had simplified versions of the meal due to their smaller appetites (even though Alexander ate a lot, he still couldn't manage adult portions since he was just a child, and had a vehement hatred of all things vegetable or fruit (well, basically all things that his parents told him to eat that he didn't like)), tiny Caiellis just having a form of soup because neither of them wanted to risk him choking in spite of having a few teeth, which gave him an adorable crooked grin or smile the few times that Marik had seen it. Now the king felt tired knowing that tomorrow he would be back to trying to convince the Light-bearers to give negotiation with the Welkalite Empire a chance, something that proved to be hugely difficult with the amount that supported war though at least Johnias was on his side in wanting to keep the peace.

Arguing with Hierarch Incedian and those that backed him drove the twenty nine year old into a rage that made him want to slam his head against the wall at how stubborn and narrow minded the old bastard was being, though at least he hadn't mentioned the topic of Caiellis's Angel of the Black Sun in the king's presence yet. The Black Sun birthmark on his son's cheek made the little toddler seem extremely serious, like it was a stain upon his childish innocence that he didn't deserve, and though Marik tried not to think of his son as being cursed it was often quite hard, although he had never raised the issue with Emili because he knew that what he was thinking was wrong and that his wife would hate it.

A pair of slender fingers snapped in front of his face, and Marik jumped back, startled at the sudden interruption of his introspection and the fact that he had been jolted from his brooding reverie, almost falling off his chair, a fact that Alexander apparently found hilariously funny until the king sent him a baleful glance from the other side of the table, the blonde stifling his giggles and suddenly transfixed by the table as his brother on his high chair (that was, amusingly enough, styled like a throne) watched him intently. The man hid a smile at how reticent his eldest son had become, and then turned to his amused wife, who flicked her eyes back in the direction of the five year old who still hadn't looked up from his almost empty plate, pushing the vegetables around with his fork in an attempt to somehow lessen the amount that he had to eat.

"Yes, Alexander?" Marik asked, knowing from Emili's expression that his eldest son would have attempted to inquire something to him, and the woman usually refused to answer questions that were directed at him unless he was immensely busy or in the middle of a conversation with someone else since it was a reminder that he should be paying attention to his children, not that he didn't, and the older one of his two son's looked up, narrowing his eyes when he saw his little brother watching him and then turning to his dad, "Daddy, I've finished. Can me and Cai go and play now?"

Marik cocked an eyebrow at the boy before replying, "You haven't eaten your vegetables Alexander. I know that they aren't the nicest tasting things in the world (he received a fiery glare from Emili because, unbeknownst to him, the queen had been trying to convince her sons that they tasted wonderful – which they did to adults at any rate), but they are really good for you. If you want to be big and strong when you grow up, then you have to eat your vegetables, buddy."

The boy pouted at him, his bottom lip curling petulantly which suddenly made Marik immensely worried that because he hadn't really been able to see his sons that much then his authority over his eldest had faded, before the more pragmatic part of his mind sternly reminded him that Alexander had always been vaguely recalcitrant (he still occasionally asked for a puppy) and that there was no real change here, as the five year old muttered, "But I don't liiiike them..."

"You might not like them, Alex, but do you really want to set a bad example to your little brother?" Emili interjected, her own sweet voice parental and affectionate, and she entwined her hand with Marik's as she continued, "Look, you only have to eat half of them, alright? Then you can go and play with Caiellis if he wants to."
Marik smiled at the woman sat next to him and squeezed her hand as the boy sighed, slowly and begrudgingly digging his fork into the vegetables and painfully chewing on them as if it was the hardest thing he had ever done in his life, though he would realise in the years to come how essential they were for a healthy diet and that many civilians in the kingdom subsisted solely on the botanical products of the photo-refectories for most of their lives, meat a large treat only eaten at special occasions. He then felt a pair of young eyes gazing upon him and Emili, and turned his head to the other side of the table where young Caiellis sat, looking at him with his endearing and wide emerald green eyes intently, and the king smiled warmly at his second son. He was vaguely surprised when the boy didn't return the gesture, just kept staring at his dad, as often when Emili or Alexander grinned at the one year old he would reply in kind, emulating the actions of his elders.

Marik refused to let it annoy him and, as Alex starting devouring his vegetables at a greater speed after realising that doing so would reduce the amount of time he would have to wait until he could play, got up out of his seat and walked behind his youngest, giving the boy a ruffle of the short brown hair that had been growing for a few months but ensuring that he was careful, as although the boy's condition had stabilised a few weeks into his short life he was still fragile and Marik didn't want to cause any damage. He abruptly realised that the last time he had held his second son was over several months ago, and went to unfasten his little toddler from his chair before realising that Emili hadn't strapped him on at all. Marik shot a glance at his wife, who shrugged and replied, "He never tried to break out of it or run off like Alex used to, so a few weeks ago we tested having him simply sat on the chair. It's been fine," she added, evidently to assuage his concerned look when he immediately got worried about the possibility of the boy falling off the chair and damaging himself.

While Caiellis had become slightly pudgier, as all children his age should, he was still noticeably quite thin and almost weightless when Marik lifted him up out of the seat, nesting his son underneath his arm as the boy looked curiously up at him. Most children his age would be making strange noises in a language that only they understood in an attempt to convey their messages, but apart from giggling, crying or copying his mother's "hmph!" noise, Caiellis barely made any sounds, which was quite concerning despite the fact that his son seemed to be progressing incredibly well in all other forms of mental development – as Alexander had been at that age, but maybe even more so than his eldest, as Caiellis gave off the impression that he grasped topics that he shouldn't be able to with his newness to the world.

It wasn't as if he didn't understand speech; Marik had found that out the last time he had carried his youngest son when Alexander had been having a "conversation" with his little brother, as Caiellis had discerned the correct usage of nodding and shaking his head in respective positive or negative gestures, a fact that made both of his parents incredibly proud and had entertained his big brother to no end. But he had never made any attempts at all to speak, though looking into his wide and ineffably wise eyes that were simultaneously adorably cute and seemingly possessed of an intelligence that a child should not have, despite the fact that Marik had no idea whether he did or not – nonetheless, he was a smart toddler, that was for sure. Marik would like to think that his son was preparing his speech until he was confident that it was to a good enough standard to be met by approval by the rest of his family, but it could be a sign that his premature birth or the fact that he was the host of the Angel of the Black Sun had affected his mental development, which would not be a good thing at all for a Lucerna that had a fifty percent chance to rule the kingdom when Marik himself died.

The king bade the thoughts about his role to leave his mind at the moment, as tonight he simply wanted to enjoy himself as a dad and a husband instead of the supreme monarch of the most powerful nation on Magnus-Primae that had a divine duty to protect the millions of inhabitants of the kingdom, and smiled down at his youngest boy as Caiellis adjusted his position, obviously uncomfortable with the way that Marik had been doing it which aptly emphasised how inexperienced the man was with his second son, a fact that the man was immensely sad about though he knew that, as much as he hated it, his duty to the kingdom came above two beloved children and that Emili was a wonderful parent.

He planted a kiss on the boy's forehead, indescribably glad that the boy had survived his premature birth a year and three months ago despite the fact that he hadn't been able to spend as much time as he would have liked with him. The tumultuous year had seemed to pass in a flash while paradoxically seeming extremely slow, but at least Caiellis seemed to know that the man who was holding him was his daddy by the way he snuggled into the crook of Marik's arm and yawned, indicating that he was tired – a fact that would be opposed by Alexander, who wanted to play with the boy, which was honestly something Marik had barely seen before. He smiled at the sensation of the boy's tiny hands gripping his arm and thumb tightly, murmuring, "Did you like your meal, Caiellis?"

The boy nodded after a brief delay, returning his father's smile with one of his own as well that exposed his new teeth, though there were still gaps where others would grow. Marik had occasionally returned to his room to find that Emili wasn't there, and the few times that he had managed to resist the exhaustion he had gone to the nursery which was next to Alexander and Caiellis's rooms that they would use more when they got older instead of sleeping next to each other in the nursery, where his wife had been tiredly comforting his youngest son because of the growing pains he was going through which were especially prevalent for him due to his fragility.

"I'm finished!" Alexander announced, leaping off of his chair and almost sending it falling over, bouncing excitedly on the spot for a second as Marik hid a scowl of disappointment that had almost formed over his still young features, because he felt he wanted to savour this moment of intimacy with his youngest son that he had rarely had forever. Emili, sensing this and smiling at Marik, stood in front of Alexander before he could charge towards his dad and little brother, taking a napkin from the table and wiping her eldest son's face that was splattered with sauce in his haste to finish the meal, laughing as the boy tried to pull away and squealed in disgust at being babied.

"I love you, Caiellis," Marik whispered into his youngest son's ear as Emili finished cleaning off his older brother and ruffled the boy's blonde hair, and he somehow knew that the boy understood the sincerity of his words, and the apology present because of the fact that Marik hadn't been able to be with him as much as a father should have, before he put the small toddler down on the ground and ruffled his hair as well as he clung to his father leg in order to stabilise himself, yawning again and letting go once he had achieved balance and trotted forward to his big brother who was quite a bit taller than him but no less youthful and cute looking.

"Hi Cai!" the older boy said, as if they hadn't been in each other's presence for the entire day, and the younger one blinked his wide and tired eyes, prompting Marik to interject and suggest, "Maybe you should be going to bed, Caiellis. You look tired, little guy."

The boy shook his head vehemently, echoing what his sibling would do in the same situation as Alex grinned at him, replying for his brother with, "Cai isn't tired, dad. He wants to play just as much as I do."

"If he's alright with it," Marik uttered, before turning back to his wife as she walked towards him, saying, "That was a delicious meal, Marik. Do you want to move to the nursery so that we can get more comfortable?"

The man nodded, though before he confirmed the gesture with words he turned towards his two sons when he heard Alexander speaking, feeling incredibly proud as his eldest son put his hands on Caiellis's bony shoulders when he thought that his two parents had started talking to each other and weren't concentrating, looking the smaller boy in the eyes as Caiellis swivelled his head towards his brother when the contact was made, his wide green eyes staring deep into his brother's warm blue orbs before the older boy blinked and said, "I know you are tired, little brother. You don't have to play just because I want to, you can go to sleep if you want."
The younger boy shook his head again, though not as vigorously as the first time because of the fact that he was talking to his brother, who put a small arm around his sibling's smaller shoulders and turned towards Marik, the smile adorning his features becoming something more akin to a childish frown when he realised that his parents had been watching him interact with Caiellis, who began toddling forwards towards his mother and father. Emili smiled and knelt down to her sons' heights, asking, "Are you two ok with going to the nursery and playing there? It's too late to be bothering any of the soldiers now."

Alexander nodded in response, murmuring, "Uh huh. The nursery is great, mummy. Cai thinks so too," He added after a brief delay when the youngest member of their family replicated his brother's actions, his youthful face lit up in excitement as if he had just realised what they were going to be doing and that he would be able to spend more time with his best friend, though said best friend was often too rough with him. Caiellis didn't complain, as he enjoyed the older boy's company and thought that unlike his mummy and daddy, his big brother would be more inclined to stop being interested in him if he didn't make his time worthwhile.

"Come on then, you two," Emili smiled affectionately and patted each of them on the head, loving the way that the eldest of her two young sons was so encouraging and fond of his little brother (though he had been ever since he had been born, as this was a younger friend that didn't know as much as him and allowed Alexander to display his knowledge to someone who would actually learn from it, as well as someone who lived with him – as opposed to his best buddies Carlis's twins (even though Emili knew he preferred Leodred at this moment in his life) who had their own house and parents and couldn't be with him all of the time), as while she had always tried to advise him on how to be nice to Caiellis Alex had taken his responsibility of a big brother very seriously. For now, at any rate.

Marik turned and took the hand of his eldest before planting a kiss on his head, Caiellis's and then his wife's cheek (all of which were accompanied by a chorus of "eew!"s from the five year old until he glanced incredulously at the boy), before letting go of his son's hand when the five year old pulled away so that Alexander didn't hurt himself from trying to slip out of Marik's grip, shooting across the room and then standing by the doorway uncharacteristically patiently, turning around with the youngster's adorable blue eyes full of youthful energy and excitement and waiting until his parents got close to him before carrying on, like an animated puppy (the king supposed that the boy did want one, and knew that such an animal would suit Alexander) that was thrilled by the sheer prospect of living and freedom to play, wearing his infectious grin that spread onto his parents' adult features like wildfire.

Before she went over to the practically bouncing youngster as Marik did so anyway, walking towards the five year old and simply talking to him as they left the room, Emili sensing that her weary husband just wanted to chat to his little boy about something innocent that would distract his thoughts and make him feel happy, the wife of one of the most influential humans on the super-continent turned towards her youngest son, her motherly instinct having informed her that Caiellis hadn't yet moved from where Alexander had been speaking to him. She smiled when she saw that the toddler's face was pulled into the deep thought expression that sometimes adorned her own features and that Alex had also adopted from his mum, his deep and cute green eyes staring at a fixed point in a silent contemplation.

What is going on in that young mind of yours, Caiellis? Emili though as she strode towards her tiny baby, who was stood perfectly still in a way that not many his age could manage without assistance, wishing that the boy could communicate what he was thinking to her. While she knew that her husband was getting worried about Cai's lack of using the infant speech common to one year olds – indeed Alexander had spoken his first word a few months younger than her son who had inherited her physical appearance (and that meant that he was probably also going to be as naturally slender as she was, which, coupled by his premature birth, meant that there was a high possibility of Caiellis staying quite small and thin for a while, contrasted quite heavily by the fact his bug brother was growing at a very fast rate, though there was still a long time to change), which had hilariously enough been "muddy", though he had said it due to the fact that it was a combination of "mummy" and "daddy" and hadn't wanted to choose between them more than any inclination to randomly talk about dirt – because of the fact that her youngest son was a Lucerna with a duty to the kingdom that would need to be intelligent enough to cope with the burden of ruling should it pass on to him, but Emili wasn't.

She knew that Caiellis was a very bright boy from the amount of time she had spent with him, and though both her sons were her youngest fathomed topics that he shouldn't have whereas her little munchkin was better at understanding people and the emotions and feelings that they showed – which had made him a very good big brother, that was for sure. Caiellis would wait until he was ready to speak, and she knew that he wasn't because he was somehow aware that if he would attempt to speak in his baby dialect it wouldn't be understood by his family and that it was the incorrect way of speaking.

This could have been because there were no other infants around his age in the noble families in Capitalia Lux, and while Emili would have absolutely no objections to sending him to a normal school for those without high magical power it would be a massive deal for everyone else, which meant that her baby boy hadn't interacted that much with other one year olds that would be speaking in their own gurgling but adorable language, and as he was often in the company of those that spoke normally he would assume that that was how he should act.

The woman remembered sending Caiellis to a nursery with around ten two and three year olds from the noble families in the city that was quite prestigious (she needed to stop thinking of organisations like that since she belonged to the most important family in the entire kingdom – the thought still sometimes left her as breathless as she had been when a seventeen year old her had been told by her former mentor that she would be seconded to one of the current king's sons) as a kind of experiment to see how he would act – as Emili was perfectly capable of teaching him herself at his age, with occasional lessons from Tybalt and rarely the twenty year old Hierarch Mithres (who adored the queen's young children) which would increase in frequency as he got older and had to learn more, but she had wanted to see if he would prefer being with others when they were being taught.

The fact that the lessons were tailored to those a year or two older than her littlest boy had concerned her not one bit, as she often tested him herself on questions (he had answered by pointing, nodding and shaking his head, which had been enough for the type of questions she had been testing him on) that shouldn't really be directed to one year olds – not that most one year olds received an education at any rate, but it was more of a mother son interaction than anything else, and if he could understand what she was saying and telling him then why shouldn't she? However, as she had chatted with the other parents who had stayed at the back of the classroom (as the youngsters were too young to leave on their own without their mums and dads), Caiellis had quickly started crying, the only time so far she had seen him do it when he wasn't in pain or wanting food or drink. Emili had assumed it was because of the noise (it was impossible to discipline and silence two and three year olds, and even the strictest of parents wouldn't do something like that (well, she supposed that Marik's father put a halt to that train of thought), as when the woman had gone to him he was curled up with his hands covering his ears.

She had immediately taken her bawling youngest out of the nursery as he pressed his head into her and slowly stopped crying, shaking his head violently when Emili had asked if he wanted to go back in, and supposed that he much preferred simply being on his own or with people that could better control themselves (Alexander didn't exactly fall under that category, but he had more self control than those around Caiellis's age, that was for sure). Though the upset of the day had been mitigated when they went back to the palace and met up with Alex, who had just been finishing his lesson with the venerable Tybalt that was surprisingly amazing with children and had instantly sensed his brother's distress, telling the boy that everything was alright and that he was going to make sure that he didn't have to cry.

At any rate, her youngest son was silent for now, and he would speak when he was ready. Emili hoped that Marik would understand that rushing that would simply make it worse, as Caiellis wouldn't know what was going on or what was expected of him, and was aware that the only reason her husband wasn't seriously concerned by it was the fact that he sadly wasn't able to spend much time with the boy, especially not one to one because of the fact that the limited amount of his life he was free to do what he wanted he chose to be with his entire family (or just Emili) rather than with one or two of them. She smiled warmly at the boy, who looked up at her when his mummy got close to him, the sounds of Alexander chattering enthusiastically to his dad as the man laughed, for once allowed to remember that in spite of his position as the sovereign of the kingdom the weight of the world didn't just rest on his shoulders, fading as the progressed further down the corridor.

"Thank you for being a good boy on my birthday dinner," Emili told him sincerely, because although Caiellis had not yet played up like his big brother had done at that age (though he did it with much less regularity now that he didn't want to look like a baby in front of his baby brother and because Caiellis took up some of the attention that had been directed towards Marik and Emili's firstborn). The boy smiled back at her and reached out a small hand towards her that was quickly grasped by the woman's own, sheer happiness flooding through her at having such amazing and lovely children that she wouldn't trade for anything in the world, and instead of letting him walk alongside her like he wanted to she pulled the small toddler into her arms, planting a kiss on his hair that would soon turn out like hers and if it continued at the current rate, the soft brown locks growing out of Caiellis's head matching the wide emerald eyes he had inherited from her as he snuggled up closer to his mother as she stroked his hair, saying, "We should get going and follow daddy and Alex now before they start worrying about us, ok?"

As if on cue, a youthful face poked its head around the doorway, followed quickly by the curious features of his father who walked back through and into the room, smiling at the unique bond that Emili had with both of their children and knowing that he would have to create one with his youngest son because of the fact that ultimately he hadn't had much influence of the boy's extremely short life so far, whereas Emili, the mother that had carried him and painfully delivered him and was the only one that had felt his pain in entering the world, meant all the world to his baby boy, who turned his head from where he was in his mother's arms to stare at his male family members inquisitively, as if wondering why they had come back to them when they were just about to leave, and as Alexander blew a raspberry at his little brother the boy giggled loudly, which made all three of the others smile.

"Are we going then?" Marik asked, musing over what had taken his wife and youngest son so long but then supposing that perhaps baby Caiellis had wanted something from his mum and Emili had been catering to his needs in that respect, reminding Marik how out of touch he was with his newest son's wants and needs – he assumed they would be similar to what Alexander had wanted, as he was more familiar with his older son because of the fact that he wasn't yet the king up until after Alexander's first birthday, and even after that his kingly duties weren't so time consuming, but Caiellis was somewhat of an enigma to him since the boy was almost always asleep when he finally finished each day's rigours or crying with Emili helping him to do the former. The woman grinned at him, placing Caiellis on the ground as he started wriggling and squirming in her arms as he toddled forwards with an encouraging pat on the back from his mother.

Alexander smiled at his baby brother as he was approached by the younger boy, his bright and dewy green eyes reminding him of their mother, and placed a restraining had on the much smaller male's chest when he was about to topple over from his headlong rush towards his elder sibling, Cai giggling and gurgling in happiness all the while as Alex poked him on the nose, eliciting a bemused blink and Caiellis's head being cocked to one side in a questioning movement that made him seem far older than his physical age of just fifteen months as his brother blew another raspberry on front of him to try and obtain another laugh from his smaller sibling, which he was rewarded with as the one year old giggled in innocent amusement and drooled all over his face and his brother's hand that was still holding him, sparking a disgusted, "Eeew! Cai, that's so lame!" response from Alex who pushed him away into his mother's catching hand, who shot a small glare at the five year old and said sternly, "Don't be rough with your little brother, Alexander Ensis Lucerna. We've already had a conversation about this, young man, about why Caiellis is too fragile for you to be pushing him around."

"But … but he drooled on me," Alexander replied in vague annoyance as his little brother looked up at his mother and then back at his big brother, as if he was absorbing the situation and the cogs in his mind (a lovely metaphor that Emili had come up with and would continue to use for as long as she lived, and it aptly described Marik's youngest son's expression in his opinion), his head going from one to the other and his green eyes filled with curiosity but also a form of concern for his older brother who he could sense was in trouble for something. It seemed to Marik liked the boy wanted to say something, to interject and make his voice on the matter heard, but as he opened his mouth he faltered, leaving it gaping open before shutting it again and shaking his head, such an imperceptible gesture that the king was sure he had imagined it and Caiellis had simply been opening his mouth like most children would, not with the intention to speak.

But the kind of dejected disappointment in his son's eyes was all too real to him, like he already felt the burden of being a Lucerna – especially a Lucerna with the Angel of the Black Sun as their host – resting on his incredibly young shoulders. Or perhaps Marik was just over exaggerating, seeing emotion and thoughts in his son's eyes when there was none and perceiving feeling where none existed, but nevertheless his son was clearly disappointed at not being able to form words as Emili harshly admonished, her words inflecting with a parental sternness that she hated showing but for the sake of her youngest son she would, "I don't care if he drooled on you, Alexander, you shouldn't push him so hard. What if I had not been there and Caiellis had fallen over and hit his head on the floor? I know that you would never want your little brother to be hurt, Alex, but if you are too rough with him then you could cause him serious pain."

The five year old instantly went contrite, his bright blue eyes welling up with guilty tears that instantly made Emili feel sorry for him and that she had spoken out of turn but before she could remedy the situation her husband, thoughtful and compassionate as ever, cut in, turning away from the sight of his youngest son struggling to find words and placing a hand on each of his children's shoulders, and though his voice was firm it was comforting, "Your mother wasn't telling you off, Alexander, just warning you. I know that brothers are normally rough with each other – heck, when me and Johnias were children we used to fight a lot of the time, and that most of the time it is just being brotherly instead of doing it with the intention to hurt. Me and your mother both know that you would never deliberately hurt Caiellis, and I'm sure that he knows that as well, but because you are older and stronger than him and he is just a baby you have to be careful with him at the moment, ok?"

"Yeah..." the older of his two sons drifted off, looking anywhere but his mother or father and meeting his little brother's gaze, the younger boy utterly unconcerned by the fact that Alexander could have pushed him over and hurt him really badly, and the tears in his eyes dried up as he whispered, "Sorry, little brother. I guess you drooling on me didn't mean that I had to push you."

Marik and Emili shared a knowing and loving glance as Caiellis trotted towards his big brother and held out his hand for the older boy's larger but still childish hand to grab it as the king then muttered, "Are we going to get to the nursery some time this century?"

"You just want Alex and Cai to go and distract themselves so that we can go to our bedroom and you can give me the birthday treat you promised, don't you?" Emili teased, lightly punching her husband on his solid shoulder as he went bright red, his face aptly highlighting how nervous and socially awkward he had been when Emili had first met him as he spluttered, "Emili, please! Not in front of the children!"

Both of their little boys had no idea what their mother had been alluding to, their minds far too young for that, though Alexander thought that maybe there was another present in the bedroom that his dad had decided not to give his mum in the morning, though for what reason he didn't understand, nor did he understand why said father's cheeks were blushing bright red as their mother laughed in a way that in the future he would come to know as flirtatiously. He shot a glance towards Cai, who was looking up at his big brother with his wide green eyes and inclining his head towards his parents, indicating that he didn't know what they were talking about and that he wanted Alex to tell him what it was, but the older boy simply shrugged and muttered, "Grown ups."

Then he let go of the younger boy's paradoxically slender and bony yet still pudgy hand and grinned at him, patting him on the back and then shooting off, yelling behind him, "Race you to the nursery, baby brother!"

Marik immediately recovered from his embarrassment at his wife's hands, silently promising himself that he would wait until it wasn't her birthday to get her back for that, his head immediately turning to where his eldest son ran off, bouncing with youthful energy and leaving his younger brother behind, who was starting to walk at a fast rate as well to try and catch up with Alexander. The king knew that there was no point in shouting his five year old son, and that the route to the nursery wasn't exactly dangerous despite their being a flight of stairs that Alexander could easily topple down and hit his head on, though hopefully if something like that happened one of the servants scattered around the palace (though they were normally confined to the areas used more for meeting the other members of the kingdom than the Lucerna family's private residence as not to intrude) would notice and come to the aid of his impatient and excitable little boy. When seeing the boundless energy of his eldest son, Marik either felt energised himself or extremely tired and exhausted, depending upon how much he had had to deal with the boy in a day, and then spotted the way that Caiellis was trotting after his brother in an attempt to keep up.

"Be careful, Alexander!" Emili shouted after the boy, sending Marik a smirk at having one upped him in the small game of joking that they had played with each other ever since that day where the angsty seventeen year old version of her husband had collected the most menial and infuriating tasks he could come up with for his new logistical advisor and dumped them on her desk, the younger her vowing to obtain her vengeance despite the fact that the one she was helping was a part of the divine royal family respected across the kingdom, and it had progressed more into a flirting game before dying down after they got married and sparking up again after the novelty of being married to one another wore off – though their love for each other didn't, although Emili knew they would have to be careful should Marik make true on the promise he had made last night, as she didn't intend to have any more children than the two adorable youngsters she already had that she loved spending time with, especially when her busy husband could be there to do it as well.

As a queen, Emili of course had many duties that took her away from childcare, though because of Caiellis's age at the moment it was understandable of her to take the one year old with her to political disputes with the Light-bearers of the kingdom and meeting the noble families across different cities (although she didn't have to prosecute that duty as much because of the fact that she had children), as well as overseeing large scale building projects and the expansion of the kingdom's technological development. She wielded a simultaneously large yet small amount of experience within the kingdom, as she was the wife of the Lucerna king yet not a Lucerna herself, though unlike in other kingdoms that had been destroyed (by Lucael or other nations over the course of history), it was much more to do with the fact that she didn't belong to the family rather than her gender, as in the past when it was a queen that reigned the non-Lucerna king at the time was as influential as she was now.

Emili was aware, and had been for the past few years that she had been married to Marik, that quite a few of the more … "traditional" was the word she was thinking of, Lucaelian nobles and powerful Summoners had disapproved of her engagement to the youngest son of King Garius II, as she was not a particularly formidable mage (compared to the others in the Kingdom of Light that were as important as her) and couldn't Summon a Second Sisterhood angel either – combined with the fact that she wasn't a family member of the more influential noble families, her own relatively modest and barely recorded in the annals of their nation, made many dissatisfied with the choice of Marik to marry her. At the time neither of the two had really cared that Garius was fuming at the decision, having already began to form a list of prospective candidates for the post of being married to one of the two princes for when his sons became eighteen, as while the man had personally selected her as an advisor she wasn't ever meant to become anything more than that.

Of course Marik had argued with his father over it quite a bit, and though the man had endorsed their marriage with his seal of approval and celebrated at the wedding Emili knew that he had never approved of it, a stance taken by some of the other powerful Lucaelians – though luckily not by Johnias. How he remained popular as a king was a testament to the excellent and intelligent way in which her husband ruled, as he had the trifecta of marrying someone that wasn't a massively powerful mage, being crowned king when his brother was the favoured in the nation and having his son inherit the Angel of the Black Sun from King Xarius, but Emili had often worked behind the scenes to ensure that dissidence was not tolerated. Nothing drastic, of course, just subtly reinforcing her husband's rule and making sure that all of the noble families across the nation supported the ruler of the kingdom, though she was doing less and less of that because of the fact that she had two young children to raise as well.

She walked quickly after Alexander to make sure that the youth didn't hurt himself in the unfair race with his little brother that he started, leaving Marik and her youngest son alone after she sidestepped the furiously toddling little one to catch up with Alex, smiling at the servants she walked past as some that she hadn't yet seen today wished her a happy birthday. Marik followed close behind Caiellis, his mind stuck in a dilemma – should he prioritise his son's independence, allow him to keep walking on his own in an ultimately futile attempt to beat his older brother at the race that had been initiated, or to pick him up and carry him to victory, as he would enjoy the look of dismay on Alexander's cute features should he undertake the second option.

He thought that he hadn't done much for his baby boy yet in comparison to the amount that he had played with Alexander, though he made sure that whenever he played games with the boy – and would do this with Caiellis as well – he Marik had never let his son win, as if the boy thought he was going to get everything without working for it he would become spoilt and bratty, especially because he was the son of the richest man in Lucael and he was a Lucerna, but in the tradition of their family barely any of the youths had ever become spoilt or pampered because one day they might rule. Of course his sons were privileged, they were the children of the king, but with that privilege came a great responsibility that more than outweighed the wealth, respect and prestige they would receive in his opinion.

The want to help his youngest son and make an impression upon his young life won out, and he reached out a hand towards the boy and grasped onto his, Caiellis directing an incredulous stare in his direction as he tried to pull away and win in the race, his face set in an adorably adamant determination not to lose that was definitely a trait of the Lucerna family and would serve him well when he got older, though if his own childhood was anything to go by one of his two sons would probably become very defiant in their teenage years. Caiellis tried to tug away and continue on in his little competition with his big brother that he had no hope of winning but was too young to understand that, so to assuage him Marik said, "I'm going to help you win, Caiellis, since you are four years younger than your big brother and I am your dad." Marik had never quite got used to saying "daddy" or "mummy" like Emili did, but had no doubts in his mind that when his baby began to speak he would refer to his parents with those terms. With his own father it had always been "sir", ever since he learned how to speak, otherwise he would be in for a coldly inflicted beating relating to the magnitude of his disrespect that had terrified him as a young boy.

He never, ever, wanted either of his own sons to see him in that way, see him as a father to be scared and frightened of, and wanted them to respect him because he had helped them through their lives and shown love and warmth to them instead of being forced into it through violence, condemnation and the fact that he was a king. Though he did respect his father as a king, and sought to emulate his success within his own reign, he had feared and hated the man with a passion, and was secretly glad he was dead so that he could have no influence on his grandsons' lives, as while he had only met Alexander and not overtly said it to Marik the then prince had known that Garius heavily disapproved of the way he had been raising the one year old, though Marik thought that perhaps it was jealousy in the way that he had a wife to help him with the children whereas Garius's love and Marik's mother Ismerelda had died giving birth to him and his brother, the only twins in the Lucerna line that had drained her dry of her mana and unintentionally consigned her to death.

That was why his father had always been so cold, harsh and unloving, and though it was tragic it did not excuse how he had treated his sons in Marik's mind, although Johnias had always been more forgiving on their old man – which had contributed somewhat to the fact that he was Garius's preferred out of the two almost identical twins. Additionally, it was hard for his sons as well, as they had never known a mother or a father's love and had only ever had each other to rely upon to provide warmth and affection, well until Tybalt arrived to be their mentor when they were around ten and both boys had grown a fondness of the Hierarch.

The king smothered the maudlin thoughts, knowing that this was his wife's birthday and that he had promised her not to be melancholic or think about his duty as a king, impossible as the latter was, and smile abashedly down at his youngest son who looked up impatiently at his father, blinking at him and raising his eyebrows as if in annoyance that he had stopped him, told him that he was going to help, and then just stood there lost in thought and reminiscing. He picked up the boy once again, wishing that he could do it much more often and vaguely concerned at how weightless Caiellis was to him, still being careful around him after a year and a quarter of him being alive, making sure that his grip wouldn't hurt and that his strength was controlled. The boy's expression instantly changed from one of slightly exasperated confusion to happiness when he began to be carried forward by his father, who didn't go as fast as he could have done for fear of dropping the boy that was in the process of snuggling up to him and nestling himself in the king's muscular and strong arms.

He shot through the palace, quickly sighting his other son at the last ornate corridor across from the welcoming, warm and child-friendly nursery that was a far cry from the drab grey and unfeeling room that it had been before Emili had gotten to it, making it the perfect place for her first son that she was carrying within her to play in, which surprisingly enough Garius hadn't raised an issue with. The twenty nine year old woman who was trailing her eldest proudly and must have been saying encouragements (as well as probably lightly chastising him for starting a race with his one year old brother) turned and grinned mischievously at her husband, who quickly strode past her and then overtook his five year old.

"Daddy! That's cheating!" Alexander exclaimed in annoyance, picking up his own pace but unable to compete with his father's long strides, resorting to pouting petulantly and glaring at his dad's back as the six foot seven man tenderly put down his fragile son who was grinning widely in victory, toddling his way the last half metre or so to enter the room and then turning round to his brother who entered a few seconds afterwards as he glared at the one year old, though Alex knew that he couldn't blame his baby brother for his impromptu victory so he ruffled the toddler's hair (eliciting a tut from his mother at the roughness of the gesture and the fact that Caiellis pulled away sharply) and congratulated, "Well done on winning, Cai, though daddy cheated and helped you. Oh well."

He turned around like it was suddenly the most inconsequential thing in the world, though he was still panting heavily from the run through the lower sections of the vast and ancient Lucerna palace, grabbing his brother by the hand and yanking him further within the simultaneously neatly organised yet chaotic nursery that Emili took great pride in creating for her two children.

Unavoidably it was filled to the brim with a mixture of toys bought by the parents themselves and the Light-bearers/nobles across the kingdom wanting to celebrate the birth of a new Lucerna, though Marik was sure that some of the people expected his children to be adults instantly from birth what with the gifts they bought them, such as suits of armour and swords, which was vaguely ironic since in spite of the fact that Marik never wanted to seem ungrateful for the presents directed towards his sons barely any of the blades would see use in actual combat (well, not wielded by the princes at any rates, but maybe by the praetorians that were taken into the Lucerna Guard) because of the large repository of relic weaponry in the sacred vaults underneath the citadel – however Marik's first sword before he had inherited his father's one was a steel blade made by the former Guardian of Gol, City of Quiet, the teenage him not deigning to utilise the weapon his father made, finding it not matching his style at all, although that could be attributed to his adolescent rebellion.

The room was quite warm because of the fire that had been lit prior to them coming in by servants who must have anticipated that the family would make its way over here, but was perfectly safe and controlled by some of the many niveous wisps that perpetuated the palace and had captured the attention of most, if not all of, the young Lucerna children when they first saw them. It had a carpet of warm gold and was quite a large room, with several comfortable sofas situated around a central table for playing things such as board games upon, with quite a few relatively empty spaces where the children could run around in circles and please themselves.

Marik smiled when he saw the numerous bookshelves on either side of the large but warm room, next to the beds where his children and wife could sleep upon if they were too tired to be going to their own rooms that were relatively close to the nursery, as although he had seen them before it always put a smirk on his face at the exemplification of the stereotype about those from Scientia Mos not being comfortable unless the room they were in was filled to the brim with books – which they were, placed in an order that he couldn't work out but knew would seem logical to his wife, whereas if it had been him that had organised them the books would all be in their assigned places based upon category, as now more child-friendly history books shared the shelves with picture-filled children's novels and tomes concerning mathematics.

The king had always loved reading as a child, as it was a way to escape the world and his duties until his father had prevented him from doing it because apparently he had been concentrating more on that instead of his lessons in combat and ruling (which was entirely false, but communicating that to his father would have been tantamount to a death sentence), and knew that his wife did as well, though while he had read to retreat from the uncaring reality of life and his role as a prince Emili had absorbed the knowledge within to volumes to expand her own understanding more than any desire to get away. He knew that at the moment Alexander didn't like reading, though that was understandable because of his age and the fact that he was forced into it through his lessons so that he could learn, and had no idea what Caiellis would turn out like in that respect. Besides, just because the boys' parents had been bookworms (despite the fact that Marik never had the time for it any more, and wasn't sure he would if he could since he had a loving family to spend time with now) didn't mean at all like they would turn out that way, and Marik wasn't certain that if he had had a similar childhood to the one he was trying to give Alexander that he would have read as much, echoing Johnias in that respect.

The two boys made their way to the centre of the room, Alexander chattering happily to his silent but smiling little brother who responded with a series of nods, shakes of his small head and pointing gestures, and Emili beckoned Marik over to the larger of the two tables, this one surrounded by chairs (though one of them was a high-chair that Caiellis had inherited from his big brother now that Alexander was tall enough to sit on a normal seat) where they could watch their children play, asking, "Would you like a drink, Marik?"

The kitchen was connected to the nursery, and Marik nodded before gently pushing his wife into a chair, kissing her on the head and murmuring, "Since when did the birthday girl serve the other people? I'll go get the drinks, Emili, so what do you want?"

Marik could see in his wife's bright green and expressive eyes that she was heavily considering to select something awkward that would make him regret offering to go and get them, before smiling sweetly and responding with a simple: "Water, please."

"What would you like to drink, boys?" the king asked, the silently cursing himself knowing that more than likely he wouldn't be able to deliver upon Alexander's inevitable request of a sugary drink, especially not this time in the evening, and that in any case Caiellis wouldn't be able to respond and was nowhere near old enough to be choosing his own drinks. Emili rolled her eyes at him, evidently sensing his mistake as well, as if she had done it then she wouldn't have asked and brought them both milk because of the fact they were developing children and needed the calcium, though Marik was quick to rectify and before his eldest son opened his mouth he cut in, "Never mind. I'll just get you both milk."

"But daaaaaad!" the boy immediately moaned, unaware that he was the recipient of a stony glare from his little brother when he stood up and blocked the one year old's path that Emili had to stifle laughter at, and she said, "No buts, Alexander. You need milk to get big and strong bones."

The king vaguely heard his eldest son grumble something about the fact that everything that he needed to make him "big and strong" tasted horrible, and chuckled quietly to himself as he stepped into the kitchen, instantly sighting a couple of mugs engraved individually with his sons' names upon them, returning half a minute or so later and settling down on the table with Emili, placing his sons' drinks on the smaller table that was next to them so that they had easy access to them, though after a second his wife silently stood up and got Caiellis's mug, placing it next to her own so that she could give the one year old drinks.

She turned to her husband without words and put a reassuring hand on his arm, silently assuring him that he was still a brilliant father after he turned around with a dejected expression on his face that he had missed so many things that he had once found obvious when catering to Alexander (though of course it had been a learning experience) as the oblivious children started to play with some of their numerous toys, Alexander inventing a surprisingly realistic universe for the knights and warriors that they were playing with.

When Caiellis had learnt to understand what other people were saying to him and be able to respond to others with yes or no gestures, his older brother had become even more smitten with him than he already had been, especially on the day that they had first been able to touch Caiellis around a few weeks into his life where the baby had reached out to his big brother and wrapped a tiny hand around his index finger and instilled the older boy with the desire to protect the fragile baby that he had been finally allowed to touch. Alexander spent almost all of his free time chattering excitedly to his little brother, who always watched with wide eyes, looking to Emili as if he was marvelling at the vast array of information his older sibling was imparting onto him, looking at his brother with the ill concealed admiration that he sometimes showed to Emili as well when she was talking to him.

The two boys got on extremely well for now, though that could be attributed to age and the fact that sibling rivalries had not yet had chance to develop since one of the two couldn't even speak at the moment, with Alexander loving sharing his knowledge with someone younger than him and teaching the one year old about what he thought of the world – Emili knew that her eldest son had seemed to realise that those that he would talk to about things like that, such as her (or more rarely his father when he was around to listen) actually knew more about it than he did, but with someone that knew less than the five year old did it was more of a learning experience for that person, rather than the adults he would talk to replying with pleasantries or praise of how much he knew.

Marik and Emili soon started talking, revelling in the presence of each other's company when the former of the two didn't have any pressing kingly duties to attend to that couldn't be pushed aside like he sometimes had done when he had been a prince and if push came to shove his father could do it, and watching their two children play. Marik was tempted to join in with his two boys and launch himself into their idealistic and innocent universe as well, but was enjoying simply watching them interact, something that he barely ever got to do but wanted to make the most of. He was immensely proud of both his children, even though that pride would increase when they got older and started to discover their individual talents, but right now he was very pleased with how Alexander had become the ideal big brother for Caiellis, and that the younger boy had held on through his tenuous birth so that he could be here today, as well as the fact that they both had First Sisterhood angels inside of them – no matter the identity of the said angels.

Furthermore, he didn't want to make it seem awkward for his youngest son, who probably wouldn't understand what was going on or why this man that had never joined in with their games before had spontaneously decided to intervene and play with them. He already knew that he wanted to spend far more time with his family, would balance his time out better so that he could raise his sons – and none could fault him for that, since they were the ones that were going to rule the kingdom once Marik had gone. There would be plenty of time to play with his children in the future, as they were still very young and hopefully the kingdom would remain as prosperous as it was now for many years – especially since the alliance with the Yentarian Republic meant that other, non-abyssal nations would be less inclined to attack them because of the help of the island dwellers – but right now he was happy to just watch, talk to his wife, and bask in the company of his perfect family.

He soon got caught up in a conversation about their different points of views on a situation, each of them calmly arguing their own point of view without any malice or emotion behind it, and it would look to anyone else like they were simply having a normal chat instead of a fully fledged debate between two opposing viewpoints, though the king wasn't really participating in it because it was Emili's birthday and it could do without disputing – although he was aware that his wife enjoyed debating with him in an intellectual manner. Marik kept looking over to his sons, smiling warmly at them when Alexander turned his head towards his father, Caiellis still absorbed in playing with the toys, and he gave his eldest son a little wink of affection.

The five year old grinned cheerfully, exposing the gaps in his teeth where his baby versions had been pulled out and newer denticles were beginning to replace them, and then turned back to playing with his baby brother, who was silently arranging the toy figures that they had in an order that was only apparent to him and seemed entirely arbitrary to Marik, though Alexander seemed to understand – or at least tolerate and allow – the movement of the knights that Caiellis had.

He thought it was adorable that instead of playing against each other (like he and Johnias had in the few times that they got to play with toys or, more commonly but still rarely, board games) – although that was sure to come when Caiellis got a bit older – they were both using their allied forces of soldiers (both regiments were from Capitalia Lux (and had been Johnias's first combined present to his nephews) judging by the colour schemes, though Alexander had taken the golden paladins and given his little brother the silver warriors) to battle against exaggerated and overblown representations of monsters and abyssal inhabitants that still had a vaguely scary hint of realism to their designs, even though it seemed like Alexander had appointed himself the commander (which Caiellis seemed to agree with or was too young to know better than to follow his big brother) of the combined force.

The king turned back to Emili, who had fallen silent and was watching their children with a wistful expression on her face, her wavy brown hair falling across one of her beautiful and expressive emerald green eyes and her delicate pale skin. She almost jumped out of her chair when Marik tenderly brushed the strands out of her eyes, suddenly broken from her quiet contemplation in wondering what her beloved sons would grow up like and the challenges that were sure to come in later years when the first became a teenager, as both Marik and Emili had been through explosive and hormonal adolescences with equal amounts of showing defiance and rudeness to their parents (admittedly in Marik's case he had an excuse for it, since Emili's mother and father were what inspired her own parenting, which meant that they must have been good) and spending hours alone in a brooding isolation.

Marik just hoped – foolish as it was, because if one thing about teenagers was certain then they would defy in some way – that he would never have to deal with his two absurdly cute and sweet sons being disrespectful and obstinate towards him, as while he would try to deal with it he thought that he probably wouldn't be very good at it. It seemed so strange to think that one day his playing – well, now squabbling, as it seemed that Alexander had taken one of Caiellis's pieces and the younger boy was trying to get it back, Marik rolling his eyes fondly and resolving to end the dispute when he finished with his current train of thought, or let Emili do it, though it was her birthday … - children would be as tall and old as he was (which was still not that old...), with families of their own one day, but that was the way of the world and they wouldn't be little kids forever.

"Stop being mean to Caiellis, Alexander. Give him his toy back," Emili gently admonished, the five year old guiltily handing his brother the figure of a glittering soldier on horseback and wielding a large sword and ignoring the victorious smirk that the one year old gave him, making Marik chuckle quietly to himself at how mature the expression seemed, as his wife got up out of her chair and, checking her watch that had been a present from her parents for her eighteenth birthday and still functioned eleven years later, said, "It is way past your bedtimes anyway, so we need to put our toys away now, get into bed and have a nice sleep."

Alexander instantly looked as if he was about to protest, Caiellis clutching onto his regained toy with his tiny hands and glaring at his brother to ensure that the older boy wouldn't try something like that again, before flicking his gaze to his mummy who had stood up and was smiling down at them, so Emili then added, "Of course, I'll read you a story before you go to bed my little ones. And I know that you want to stay up longer, Alex, but you are only five years old and you need a good sleep so that you can be awake tomorrow. We've already let you stay up an hour past your bedtime, and that's saying nothing about the fact that Caiellis should have been in bed at least couple of hours ago. But don't worry, you two can sleep in the nursery tonight"

Marik almost replicated his wife's surprised actions from earlier, fishing his own chronometer out of his pocket and stifling a gasp when he realised that they had spent an excess of two hours within the nursery already, but he had been so caught up in talking to his wife, watching his sons taking part in their brotherly game and generally just relaxing as a father to a young family instead of the king of a gigantic nation that depended upon him for leadership, that he had missed out on the passing of time. It seemed that Emili had as well, though he sadly supposed that it was a rarity these days that he would do something like this and his wife had enjoyed it just as much as he had, and he stood up and slung an arm around her slender shoulders, adding, "Come on then boys. How about daddy reads you a story tonight instead?"

Emili smiled at him and nudged her husband in the ribs at him finally acquiescing to referring to himself as a "daddy" to his young sons, but soon frowned when Alexander suddenly stated, "No."

She shared a confused glance with Marik, who's blue eyes were starting to be filled with self-loathing at the fact that his eldest son – the one he was the closest to, which meant that Caiellis would be thinking in the same manner – didn't want to spend time with his dad, or have him read them one of the children's books detailing figures that were actually the boy's ancestors, but the five year old soon elaborated, clambering to his feet himself and standing in front of Caiellis, "That would be really cool, daddy, and thanks for saying that you would, but I promised Cai that I would read him a story tonight."

"Aww," Emili breathed as her husband nodded, smiling himself and silently wondering when Alexander's affection for his little brother would become less obvious and the sibling rivalry would begin in earnest, Caiellis getting up alongside his big brother and clutching onto the fingers of the boy's larger hand with one of his own tiny fists, nodding his head in agreement of Alex's statement and then letting go, starting to collect up their toys in readiness for them to be placed back inside of the box from which they were taken, placing them back inside quickly and efficiently to Marik's eyes, as if he was that excited by the prospect of Alexander reading him a story that it energised his tidying up routine that he had already mastered.

"If that is what you two want to do, then I have no objections," Marik replied succinctly, earning himself a vaguely confused glance from his blonde little boy who clearly didn't understand what the word "objections" quite meant yet, and knelt down to help Caiellis who was struggling with manoeuvring the box that was larger than him across the room before he hurt himself, the king easily able to effortlessly push the crate back to where it had been placed beforehand as his son marvelled at his strength with wide eyes full of admiration for his parents, holding out a hand for Marik to grab as if in reward for his aid and yawning in a way that appeared extremely magnanimous to the king, who knew that he was thinking too much about his toddler's actions but enjoyed the little mental games with himself at pondering what Caiellis was thinking and trying to mean from his actions.

"Get your pyjamas on then," Emili told them, kissing her firstborn son on the head again and going to fetch Caiellis's nightwear, which consisted of an immensely cute outfit that had been knitted by the boy's only living grandmother that Alex had laughed at when he had seen Cai snuggled inside of it before being told that he had worn the same when he was his little brother's age and that Emili would happily make him wear it again if he didn't stop sniggering at his unamused sibling, and though both her boys could dress herself her youngest sometimes had trouble simultaneously keeping his balance and putting the clothes on.

The queen didn't want a repeat of the horrible occasion when her fragile one year old had toppled over while walking too far away from Emili or any adults – as she had gone to fetch something and left him in the apparently incapable hands of the eighteen year old apprentice Guardian Tristram and smashed his frail head on the floor, though luckily not causing any permanent damage. Nevertheless, the fall had caused a nasty cut and put her baby Caiellis in large amounts of pain, and when she had rushed to his aid with Tristram trying – and failing abysmally – to comfort the youngest prince it had taken her hours to calm the boy down with soothing words and gentle healing. She couldn't stand either of her children in pain, as it made her feel completely useless as a mother, especially when she hadn't been able to stop it when Caiellis had spent the first we weeks of his life alone in his mana-powered neonatal support incubator due to the premature birth that (combined with his inheritance of more of Emili's physical characteristics) would probably leave him smaller than his brother and father unless he had a massive growth spurt in the future.

Marik squeezed his youngest son's tiny hand tightly, though not hard enough that it would hurt the boy in any way, as Caiellis rubbed his green eyes sleepily, having pretended that he wasn't tired earlier so that his big brother would have someone to play with for the evening, yawning softly in a way that made the king love his son even more. He then raised his free hand, pointing towards a stack of teddy bears and soft toys piled up next to his nursery bed (that was his permanent residence at the moment since he wasn't old enough to sleep alone), and looked back up at his dad with his sparkling emerald eyes.

The twenty nine year old assumed that his the toddler was indicating that he wanted one of the various teddies that many people (including his parents) had bought for him because of the fact he was a Lucerna prince (which meant that all of the many noble families across the kingdom felt that they had to purchase gifts for the newest potential heir to the throne, and also his first birthday), but in case Caiellis meant something else he asked for clarification, "Do you want one of your teddies, Caiellis?"

The boy nodded happily and tiredly, glad that his father had understood, so Marik strode quickly over to his bed, smirking when he saw that the vast majority of the soft toys were larger than his youngest son, and selecting a suitably small one made in the shape of a baby leonin – a cub – from Sancturia, referencing the common animals of the Lucaelian Summoners that weren't massively powerful, though the king wasn't sure what the honour-bound and ferocious Sancturia residents would think of this adorable imitation of them. Most probably they would challenge the maker of the soft toys to an honour duel and proceed to rip them to shreds alongside their cuddly creations, but for now Marik secretly thought that the leonin certainly suited being made into huggable items for young children. He frowned when he noticed that the bed across from Caiellis's, Alexander's sleeping place when he was too tired to go to his room and wanted to sleep near to his little brother and mother, was bereft of any trace of the numerous teddy bears that had once adorned (more like covered) it, and he distinctly recognised some of the ones that were now on his toddler's side.

Knowing that he shouldn't keep his youngest son waiting, though Caiellis did seem more patient than Alexander had been at that age (but then again he had spent less of his time with the boy so probably didn't know how demanding he might be), he swiftly brought leonin cub toy that he had selected over to the one year old. Caiellis stared up at him out of his bright yet dark green eyes, the orbs locked in an expression that seemed to be something akin to slight confusion mixed with annoyance when he looked at the teddy that was being handed to him that, as opposed to some of his other cuddlies, was actually able to pick up without being swamped by the size of it, and it suddenly occurred to Marik that perhaps his little boy had been pointing to a specific one of his teddies, maybe the one that he favoured the most that Emili would assuredly have gotten for him, but Caiellis accepted the leonin cub anyway and hugged it close to his chest, his tiny arms barely able to wrap around despite the fact it was one of the smaller options.

The king smiled proudly at his son, wondering whether to praise him for the fact that he hadn't thrown a tantrum or acted immature – Wait, what the hell I am thinking? What is immature for a one year old? - when he had clearly been given a soft toy that he hadn't selected, but decided to stay silent instead as the boy graciously ran in a circle with the cuddly representation of a cat before bumping into his father's leg as he looked over to Emili when she had arrived with Caiellis's pyjama suit, Alexander already having changed out of his prince outfit that he had worn – in spite of his numerous protestations to Marik – in order to look smart for his mother's birthday and into his nightwear ready for his bedtime story to be delivered to his little brother. The boy blinked in startled surprise, as if not expecting the tall man to still be there, and looked back up at him with a vaguely sheepish smile on his young face before Marik picked him and the teddy up again, gently prying the leonin from his baby's grip and saying, "You can have it back soon, Caiellis, but your mother needs to get you changed so that you can be comfortable when Alexander reads you a story."

The youngest prince nodded to show that he had understood, and didn't impede his mum when she stripped off the garments he had been wearing, prompting Marik to wonder when the last time he had gone to the toilet had been considering the fact that his nappy that had been put on him before the dinner they had eaten several hours ago was still dry, Emili casually informing him, her voice full of parental pride that her nonchalance added in for the sake of Alexander did little to dispel for Marik, "Oh, Cai is potty trained already. He trained himself in fact, after demonstrating it to me the first time I got concerned that he hadn't wet his nappy in several hours."

Marik nodded, having been the same at his youngest son's age according to the few adults that had known him well then and were still alive now, but was nevertheless very proud of his bright sons, though both seemed to excel in different areas. Caiellis was certainly a model child however, apart from the fact that he couldn't speak and had made no effort to even try which could quickly be rectified and his fragile form which was through no fault of his own, though if he grew at his current rate would be to his detriment within the future, as well as the fact that the Angel of the Black Sun inhabited him which means absolutely nothing and I'm sick and tired of having this foolish conversation with you so just stop. Caiellis is a perfect son, and his Black mana in no way detracts from that so I would appreciate it if you would get that foolish and narrow notion out of your head.

However, from what Emili had told him about, his youngest son wasn't yet that good at interacting with other children and babies around his very young age due to his inexperience with them, but Marik pushed the thoughts from his mind and went to see Alexander after stroking his son's brown hair for a second, the soft locks so much like the ones that adorned his beautiful and beloved wife's head, and placing the leonin cub soft toy on the floor next to the queen where she could hand it to their youngest once she had finished dressing him.

The boy was puzzling over a shelf of children's books, picking some out, flicking through the book and glancing at the pictures so that he could remember the story before putting them away, before glancing up when his father companionably knelt down beside him and smiled at his eldest son, ruffling the boy's blonde hair fondly and so glad that his fragile youngest had such a protective and loving big brother to live with instead of one that hated him for taking up attention and indescribably proud of Alexander that he had become so affectionate of his baby brother ever since first seeing him and having established their brotherly connection even through the glass of Caiellis's necessary isolation.

"What are you going to read to your little brother then?" Marik asked after his son stopped giggling because of the fact that he was ticklish about his hair being ruffled and resumed his task of searching for the right "book" to read to Caiellis, the king's large hand making its way to his shoulder and squeezing it with a firm solidarity that he hoped conveyed the fact that despite his temporary almost complete abstinence from his fatherly duties, he would continue to be there for his children and reinforce his bond with Alexander and well as create a much stronger one with younger baby Caiellis. The blonde adopted the deep thought expression that he sometimes did that reminded Marik of Emili, but not as much as the one that Caiellis wore did and had elements of the face he had apparently used to pull according to his former, Alexander's current, and Caiellis's soon to be mentor Tybalt, and murmured, "I don't really know yet. I was thinking about reading the one about King Matalis and the First Angel to him, but I don't want to read something too boring and I couldn't find the one that is my favourite story."
"Would this happen to be it?" Marik asked, though he already knew that answer due to the fact that he had often read the book to a wide eyed son who had adored being in the presence of his dad, grabbing the thin book that was mostly pictures and omitted most of the brutality of war and the dark demons that the first Lucerna monarch had saved the people from, mostly focussing on his heroics in battle and the fact that he had built up the kingdom, from where it was resting on top of the shelf and out of reach of his tall for his age but still small five year old, and handed it to the boy who grinned in that infectious way that made Marik smile as well as he exclaimed, "Thanks, daddy! You're the best!"

"I try," he replied humorously, though the lightness of his words was meant to dispel the fact that he knew he was an awful father, having not seen his sons nearly as much as he should have (though he made sure to see them once a day, even if he was extremely busy and they were sleeping) done and opening his arms wide when the boy launched himself at his father for a hug, making a show of grunting at the added weight in a way that his little boy loved because it made him think that he was getting to his desire of being a strong adult faster despite the fact that lifting his healthily weighted son was easy enough for a man of Marik's physical capacity. He laughed at his son, lifting him up off of his feet and spinning him around, before putting him back down on the floor and patting him fondly on the head.

The king missed playfully wrestling and playing with his eldest son, as it had been something that they both thoroughly enjoyed and was a way in which they could bond that was unique to them, as while Emili could easily do it it wasn't something she had ever liked doing, his pacifist wife a rarity within the Kingdom of Light. However it was something that was far more common within the League of Isak within the friendly and inquisitive Yentarian Republic that treated the Lucaelians with great respect but also a strange sense of something that made Marik feel like a small child again whenever he spoke to the Council, which he had at first believed to be a group of each of the leaders of the Leagues of Thought and then some representatives of those not affiliated with any of the Leagues, but apparently were only elected spokespeople from the different organisations within the Republic and not the most powerful.

However, he knew that that feeling came from the fact that the Lucaelians knew little to nothing about the outside world apart from a few forays out of the abyss to explore potential territories, and as such the Yentarians made him feel uneducated in other matters. He got the impression that the Republic was far, far older than the ancient Kingdom of Light, as while the Yentarians had used the Lucaelian dating method (with the year 0 being the year Matalis formed the nation and ascended to the holy throne) out of respect Marik knew that they at least seemed to have been around for thousands of years. Nevertheless, the Yentarians – or at least the ones that had the duty of communicating with the other nations of the world – were always very happy to share the knowledge that they had accumulated, in exchange for being allowed to talk and learn more about the culture of the kingdom – a trade of information that Marik had been all too happy to enact, keeping many things about the Kingdom of Light hidden from the Republic as he was sure the Yentarians did in turn.

He felt a pair of curious eyes gazing at him and Alexander, and Marik turned to see his youngest son watching his playful fighting with his five year old brother inquisitively, a pang of sadness erupting within the king's chest when he realised that he hadn't yet played with his youngest son, but he knew that the boy was far too fragile at the moment to be as rough as he was with his big brother. At any rate, they would have to wait a year at least before he could, and hoped that Caiellis understood why, but quickly stopped his messing with the older of his two little boys and kissed him on the head. Emili smiled at them both, pulling her youngest to her chest tightly before placing him down on the bed, assuming correctly that that was where Alex wanted to read the story to his little brother.

"This is really kind of you, Alex," she praised when her five year old bounced across the room, though not as hyper as he was earlier and stifling a yawn of his own, and he smiled sweetly at his mum before saying, "Yeah but mummy, Cai is my little brother, so I'm doing it because of that. He's pretty cool, and not as lame as I would have thought a baby brother would have been. Just don't tell him that," Alexander hushed his words around halfway into his sentence, though Marik had no idea whether or not his baby boy had heard his brother's lovely words, and Emili shared a proud glance with her husband before vacating the space next to Caiellis's teddy bear filled bed (that made his son seem even smaller and more fragile by comparison, making Marik want to put him in an impenetrable bubble of protection forever despite the fact that he knew he was safe for now, especially in the presence of his loving family) and putting an arm round the king's waist.

Alexander looked at them as he leapt up next to his little brother who grinned at him, giggling softly to himself and pulled the bear that he liked the most down from its resting place upon another few teddies, causing a chain reaction where they all started to tumble down, though luckily Alex turned around and stopped them before they landed on his baby brother – not that they would cause any damage to the one year old, but he was still protective of the toddler – just didn't really want him to know that yet because Cai would start thinking that his big brother was his only friend and hanging around with Alex too much – glancing in a way that he hoped looked like the disapproving gaze his father, or Tybalt, did when he did something stupid, tutting softly to his laughing little brother and repairing the cocoon of soft toys around the younger boy, and muttering, "Well that was pretty stupid, Cai."

If it was up to Marik than the number of teddy bears and other assorted cuddly animals on the littlest Lucerna's bed would have been greatly reduced to sensible numbers – i.e.: one or two – instead of having them all piled up there together, but obviously Caiellis liked it that way and Emili had arranged it, his wife's fondness for soft toys evident in the way that she had enjoyed purchasing them for both of her sons, and was glad that that disaster in the making had been averted. He turned back to see Alexander looking at his parents again, and narrowed his eyes at the expression that he was giving them before Emili gently took Marik's arm and pulled him back to the table, seating him on a chair and murmuring, "Don't embarrass Alex any more, Marik. It's ok now, Alexander, we aren't listening any more and we can't hear you here."

"Ah," Marik breathed softly, having been wondering why his eldest was taking his time to start, a fact that now made sense with the realisation that his son was vaguely abashed at reading in front of his parents despite the fact he was only five, and probably wanting to share this moment as one with his little brother. However, as Emili turned to him with a mischievous grin on his face when the boy started reading it to his enraptured brother, it was evident that his wife had no intentions on making her earlier words a factuality, staying silent and listening to the boy read out the chapter and describe the pictures to his little brother, before he cut off and glowered at his parents, exclaiming in annoyance, "Mummy! I can't concentrate with you listening!"

"What do you want us to do then? We aren't leaving because you have to be in bed soon?" the woman replied patiently, though obviously her perceptive eldest would have deduced that his mummy and daddy's silence suggested that they were in fact listening to him read to his baby brother, who was frowning in bemusement at the interruption and reaching out to the comforting form of his big brother that had helped him through the time where he hadn't been allowed out of his glass box with the way he had talked to Caiellis and been the only one out of his family that hadn't pitied him. Alexander noticed his little brother's small hand extended towards him and grabbed it with his own with an intensity and strength that unintentionally hurt his baby brother, who resolved to suck it up and not complain because of the fact he didn't want to appear lame to his truly awesome big brother who was about to read a story to him. Alex then let out a slightly exasperated, "Just talk or something! But don't listen to me."

"Alright, alright, we're talking," Emili soothed with an attractive roll of her dazzling eyes, the deep blue dress she wore matching the mysterious forest colour of her alluring orbs perfectly and flawlessly complementing her slender form, before turning back to Marik and immediately beginning a completely random conversation about vegetables with him, causing the man to stare at her with confusion until she motioned with her hands to try and get him to reply to her so that they could keep up the talk and satisfy their son. Soon his young voice could be heard enthusiastically and nurturingly – taking clear cues from both his mum and dad – reading out the tale to Caiellis, answering questions with his big brother knowledge that left the one year stunned at how Alexander seemed so similar to him yet was so much smarter than he was.

"Why does Alexander no longer have any soft toys?" Marik asked, utterly changing the course of the conversation and figuring it would be more natural if they talked about things they actually wanted to instead of forcefully spewing random stuff about topics neither of them were interested by in an attempt to satisfy their eldest son's conditions for reading to his little brother, and Emili gave him a small smile when explaining, "A few months before his fifth birthday and after seeing Caiellis was all of his teddies – which at the time was comprised of a lower number than Alexander's collection – Alex spontaneously decided that he was too old for soft toys now and wanted to give them all to his little brother. I tried to talk him out of it, though I'm sure that Cai wouldn't have minded if Alex had changed his mind and had to give our eldest the teddies back after a few days or sure, but the munchkin was set on it and nothing could dissuade him from letting Caiellis have all of the toys, which is why he now has such a ridiculous amount of them," she lowered her voice as her husband nodded, leaning closer as well and knowing that she was going to be talking about their firstborn son without wanting the kid to hear, and said in hushed tones, "He's so kind to his little brother. It's adorable, and I'm glad it is like this because if Alex had disliked Caiellis from the start than our youngest's fragility would mean that if he ever tried to hit Cai then it would really hurt him."

The king nodded once again, having had similar thoughts himself, and the two started talking about how much they were looking forward to their sons growing up as well as how much they were enjoying raising them now – though Marik had always been waiting for the day that he could interact with his sons as young men instead of small children, as that was more his wife's forte and he often felt like he was fumbling around in the dark when something was wrong – it was alright now, when the two were in a perfect state of mind, but if one of them started crying then he wouldn't be sure how to solve it whereas Emili would instantly deal with the situation in the correct manner.

He was in the middle of communicating as much with his wife, when she placed a slender finger upon his lips and pressed down gently on them. Annoyed, he frowned at her but shut up anyway, before listening closely to the rest of the room and realising that Alexander had gone silent, a kind of mystical atmosphere filling the nursery as he turned to the two boys, his wife mirroring his actions, Caiellis opening his mouth to his big brother for the second time. Marik's heart leapt in his chest as he heard a youthful and innocent voice fill the silence of the room, a voice that was at the same time intimately familiar to him yet one that he had never heard form words before, and he smiled with pride as his youngest son opened his eyes again, his emerald orbs filled with an utter certainty as well as excitement at finally figuring it out, whispering, "Alesh."

Caiellis then frowned as his family burst into excited and happy animation, annoyed at the fact that he had mispronounced the x in his brother's name, saying the name again as if testing the new ability to speak words, rolling his big brother's abbreviated name upon his tongue and saying it for a third time to the wide and proud eyes of his family, his confidence that had initially been hurt when he knew that he had said Alexander's name incorrectly now emboldened and encouraged by the look of their happy faces as he felt himself being lifted into a warm hug by the five year old who had abandoned the book that he had been reading, leaving it open on the bed as he wrapped his baby brother in his arms and ruffled his short brown hair.

"He just said my name!" Alex exclaimed in excitement, and Marik was vaguely concerned that he would be suffocating his little brother with how he was squeezing the one year old to his chest and burying Caiellis's head in his chest, repeating in thrilled elation, completely overjoyed that his baby brother had said his older sibling's name as his first word and willing to overlook the fact that he had vaguely garbled the second oldest prince's name (as Johnias was still technically a prince, though he had no chance to inherit the throne unless the sons of Marik somehow died, which wasn't going to happen with their father watching over them), "Cai just said my name!"

Marik walked over to the bed after his youngest son started trying to pry himself out his brother's affectionate but overbearing and constricting grip that he knew wasn't meant to hurt him but was doing so anyway and gently tugged his youngest son away from his eldest, letting him rest in his father's arms anyway. Caiellis's green eyes were lit up with a mixture of happiness at finally being able to get a word out of his mouth that meant he had achieved his voice and would be able to better communicate with his family, as well as the fact that it meant that he could join in with their conversations and stop worrying them about the reality that he hadn't been making any effort to speak whatsoever because he knew in the back of his mind that whatever he tried would have failed, but also a bit of bewilderment at how ecstatic his family seemed. All he had said was one word – well, he had said it multiple times, but that still didn't mean like it was the most important thing in the world like his brother, mummy and daddy seemed to think it was, and he still had a long way to go if he ever wanted to be as awesome as his big brother was at the moment.

Marik sat down on the bed next to Alexander with Caiellis in his arms as Emili came over to them, the extremely young boy's head flicking between the other members of his loving family and supposing that his first words were ones that would cherish forever. The king sighed happily, figuring that this was the perfect end to a perfect day of having fun and enjoying himself in the presence of the family that meant the most to him out of anything in the entire world and that he would give up everything for in a heartbeat, and said quietly, "Well done, Caiellis. We are all really proud of you little one."

Alexander still hadn't got over the excitement that the first thing his baby brother had said was his name, which meant that he was being a good big brother to Caiellis and hoped the one year old knew that he would continue to protect him and love him for as long as they both lived, and was bouncing in his seat with joy and cheerfulness, smiling broadly at his little brother whenever the boy looked sleepily in his direction as he yawned and stretched out in the strong arms of his dad, before suddenly sitting up as if just remembering that he had forgotten something. Which he had, he thought it was completely unfair that he had said his big brother's name without paying heed to the rest of his family, the loving mummy that always spent time with him and who showed him tremendous amounts of love and the father that he didn't see very often any more but vaguely remembered from the part of his life that he could barely recall anything from, not that he was under any illusions that he understood anything about life at the moment.

"Mummy. Daddy," he said, almost as an afterthought, his head turning to look at the ones he had addressed to ensure that he wasn't saying it wrong or mispronouncing what he knew as their names, nodding his head when the looks on their faces confirmed that he had been speaking their names correctly and seeming to Marik like he was in some way thanking them for all that they had done for him, until Caiellis then pressed his head into the king's chest and abruptly fell asleep, his sudden departure from the world of the awake punctuated by a soft and cute sniffle as he adjusted his position to make himself as comfortable as possible. All three of his family watched him lovingly, extremely proud of the fact that he had spoken his first words on this night, and Marik and Emili gently pulled Alexander away from the bed and tucked Caiellis underneath the comfortable covers, the queen arranging the teddy bears in a protective circle around him as the one year old unconsciously grabbed out for one of them and dragged it closer to him.

Both of his parents took turns in planting a kiss each on his cool forehead, Emili stroking his hair softly and whispering, "Good night, Caiellis. That was so kind of you, saying your big brother's name like that. We'll see you in the morning."

"He said my name!" Alexander jumped on the spot and loudly proclaimed it to the world for the third time, placing his finger to his lips and looking guiltily at his sleeping brother when Marik shot him a censuring glare that suggested he be quiet and Caiellis made an adorable snuffling sound, rolling over in his bed to the other side as Emili rose up from his side and declared, "Right, Alexander, it is time for you to be getting to bed as well."

Surprisingly enough, instead of protesting the delighted little one looked up at his father in an inquisitive manner that the man had gotten used to seeing from his eldest son and would have to become accustomed to Caiellis doing the same because both of his sons had inherited their parents' – especially Emili's – undying curiosity for the world around them, which meant that he had to be ready for answering many questions in the future – especially about Caiellis's angel when the smaller boy was old enough to know that he had one inside of him as it was a very delicate topic and he didn't want his innocent baby boy to become sad because of the Angel of the Black Sun choosing him as a Summoner instead of the other loyal First Sisterhood angels. Pre-empting the coming question, he asked, "Yes, Alexander?"
"Can I speak to Cai before I go to bed?" the boy asked innocently, running a hand through his blonde fringe that had been recently cut to stop getting it in his eyes after Marik had briefly saw how long it was becoming because of his wife's penchant for long hair on her little boys that was entirely impractical in the monarch of Lucael's opinion, a clear sign that the five year old was tired – though he would never admit it and would continue to declare that he wasn't tired until he physically fell asleep on his feet and pitched into the realm of unconsciousness and dreams that Caiellis was already within, moving in his bed in an attempt to get comfortable. Marik shared a glance with Emili, who shrugged and nodded as if to say: "What harm could it do?" and leaving the ultimate decision up to him because of the fact that he had to be more confident with his fatherly duties instead of looking to her for help.

"Don't wake him up then, and be quick. It is already way past your bedtime, champ," Marik replied as the five year old nodded, full of the big brother importance he had become filled with ever since seeing his fragile and tiny younger sibling in his mana incubator with his life hanging at a thread, assuring his father, "I'm not going to, daddy." He then delightedly shot over to his brother's bed, where the boy who would, according to Emili, be quite a light sleeper in the future – and Marik had no idea where she had acquired that information from, but didn't bother to ask because of the fact that he utterly trusted his young wife with her notions concerning their children, surprisingly didn't wake up, though he knew that babies generally did sleep through things and that Caiellis had when he had been younger and even smaller than he was now, which was still at a very unhealthy weight despite the amount that Emili fed him.

He placed a small hand next to his little brother's head and quietly got onto the bed beside him, more stealthy than Marik had ever seen his normally quite loud and vocal first son before and ensuring that none of his motions would cause the slumbering infant to be roused from his not yet peaceful sleep, and whispered quietly, "Good night, Cai. That was pretty cool. For a little brother anyway. Have a nice sleep, and I'll make sure that the bedtime monsters don't get you."

Alexander grinned down at the baby when Caiellis subconsciously reached out a hand towards him and curled his tiny fingers round Alex's own chubby index finger that was becoming thinner due to the fact that he was now growing up, but was still as wide as it had been when he was four because of the increase in size of the bone, just longer now. The boy stopped fidgeting in his bed, relaxing now that he had a grip on the other child in his family and starting to drool over himself now that he was truly asleep, and Alex made a face at him before gently taking his hand out of the one year old's grip and tiptoeing back to the other side of the room where his own bed was, though it wasn't that far away from his baby brother's after requesting that it be moved closer so that he wouldn't bee too distant from Caiellis should he wake up in the night and their mother not be there.

Marik just wondered when the novelty of having a little brother would wear off for Alexander, as of course when they were older there would be plenty of fights no matter how well they got on because of sibling rivalries and hormones, but he couldn't help but think that Alexander would always be there for his little brother whenever Caiellis needed help, such was the strength of the bond that he sensed between them that far eclipsed anything he or Johnias – in his own opinion anyway, as the eldest Lucerna had often stated that his brother was one of his best friends – had ever felt between each other despite the fact that the twins had always been close. Marik had just never sensed the type of connection that identical twins were apparently supposed to have between him and his brother, but maybe that was because of the fact they were Lucernas and as such had been raised significantly differently to others. At any rate, at the moment his five year old son was more attuned to his little sibling's needs than the one year old's own father was, which was a cause of shame for Marik who made himself promise that he would spend much longer with his sons – they were Lucerna heirs and needed to know that their dad cared about them, both for their own benefit and the benefit of the people of the Kingdom of Light.

"Alright, Alex, its time for you to be going to sleep as well," Emili, ever the one for taking the control of the situation instead of losing herself in introspection – though Marik was aware that that was what his wife did in the short amounts of time that she got to herself now that she was a mother of two young little boys – as the blonde repressed a yawn and nodded, rubbing his eyes sleepily and slowly getting into his own bed, his youthful excitement diminished now that he knew that it was time for going to bed so that he had enough energy to go to school and see his friends there as well as play with his little brother in the morning if they woke up early enough, and obediently pulled the covers over himself and rested his young head on a soft but not overly plump pillow, murmuring, "Good night mummy. Good night daddy."

"Good night, buddy," the man replied, giving his eldest boy a wink of reassurance when his wife knelt down next to the bed, understanding that they needed to give Alexander just as much affection as his baby brother if they wanted him to feel loved as she said, "And thank you for being a good boy on my birthday, Alex. It makes me really proud of you when you are well behaved, which is most of the time now."

"Mummy … how old are you?" Alex asked, completely innocent and with his blue eyes wide with harmless curiosity, making Marik have to suppress a snort at the fact that you were never supposed to ask a woman her age, before Emili sent a glower his way before turning sweetly back to her son after winking at Marik, replying nonchalantly, "Oh, I guess this makes one hundred and five."

"WOW! Really?" Alexander replied in awe of his mother's apparent agelessness and wisdom and wondering what he would be like at such an impressive age, before Marik rolled his eyes and cut in, grinning, "Your mother was joking, Alexander, she is only twenty nine. And as beautiful as she has ever been," he added, moving round and kneeling down to his wife's side and placing a large arm around her shoulders when she pouted at him at having her little joke destroyed so quickly and kissing her on the cheek, continuing, "I hope you find a woman as lovely as your mum in the future when you grow up."

"Oh. Ok," the boy replied, though he supposed that twenty nine was still very old and way older than his own age of only five years, as Emili kissed him on the head again as he turned over in his bed and pressed his young face to the pillow. Within a few seconds he was asleep, having none of the problems of getting to sleep that Caiellis had been suffering over the course of his very short existence, and Emili slid out of her husband's grip as he watched the boy sleeping peacefully as she went and controlled the wisps dancing around the safe fire, extinguishing it so that the room was darker. She then turned around to Marik, murmuring, "That was the best birthday I could ever have wished for. Our youngest son spoke his first words today, Marik."

The man nodded as his wife spun around fully, her green eyes full of flirtatious mischief now that she was certain that her sons were asleep, and said, "Now, about that final birthday gift..."

.*.*.*.

"I never want to hear your whining voice again, you worthless brat! And now I'm going to make sure that I never have to!" the king roared, his loud voice filled to the brim with the steaming anger that Cai had always felt within it whenever he had been shouted at his father before, but one that utterly crushed his new resolve that had started building up when the king had arrived in his losing fight against Rakdos. Hopelessness began to fill him when he saw the rage in his father's piercing blue eyes that stabbed straight through him and held him to the spot, and he resisted the almost overpowering urge to fall to his knees, curl up into a foetal ball and wait for the end that flooded his mind.

"Dad, please! What are you saying?" the thirteen year old asked, still unable to process the fact that his father had suddenly turned on him and not willing to believe that the man was saying these things, though it dawned on Cai that he had said similar in the two days before this brutal battle that had been the most savage thing Caiellis had ever experienced and would probably haunt him forever. He had simply pushed his argument with dad to the back of his mind in the desperate fight for survival against the Master – or Archlord – or Rapture ad then against the Lord of Riots, hoping that his father would have done the same now that they were in a battle and the hostile animosity between them, but obviously his high expectations of the man had been proven false.

Cai was terrified, there was no point in not admitting it to himself.

He gulped nervously as his father stalked towards him and his mind decided that this was the most opportune time to thrust flashbacks of that awful time yesterday where his dad had pinned him down on his bed and strangled him, his eyes full of the same dissatisfaction and cold anger that the king of Lucael was now showing to his youngest son, and though every instinct he had was screaming at him to move away he stayed still, silently willing for his dad to turn around and fight by his side instead of striding with menacing purpose towards him. The man sneered coldly at him, growling, "Are you fucking stupid, Caiellis? You heard what I said, boy! I've had enough of you and your constant defiance of me."

The fact that the last sentence wasn't even shouted but was filled with such malice from the person that was supposed to love him as a father made it all the more painful to Cai's ears as he stiffened, fear shuddering through his spine as his dad hefted his huge greatsword, as if testing the weapon's suitability for something that was soon to occur. He again shot a shaky glance over to the Archdemon that was still by far the largest mana presence in his mind and had prevented him from sensing his father's arrival in the first place, but Rakdos seemed to be simply revelling in the family argument – if it could be called that – and the fact that Caiellis's hope was utterly crushed out of his body.

He had unconditionally hoped that despite the fact that he and his dad had been quite literally at each other's throats the past week and had each said things that they shouldn't have, despite the reality that Marik had tried choking him to silence and discipline him and even before that had almost crushed his arm, despite the truth that the king's youngest son was a useless dead weight that had failed in every conceivable task imaginable – such as protecting his big brother as Alex guarded him and not falling prey to a dream world, from leading a group of troops to victory in Fort Egetau and then repairing the relationship between him and the Lucerna brothers' father no matter how hard he had tried and how much he had opened up after their final strategium fight – and forced Alexander and the other adults to have to salvage every situation that he made a mess of that Marik would put aside their differences in the middle of a battle that would decide the fate of two of the largest nations on the planet to protect his son and come to his aid in his time of dire need.

Caiellis had been wrong. So, so wrong. He could faintly see Akroma advancing upon her dark sister in a similar manner that the supreme monarch of Lucael was doing to his unwanted second son, and assumed that this had been planned before hand. He could feel the anxious sweat soaking his palms even with the blood from the vibrant and oily Rain of Gore drenching him in crimson fluid, and felt all of the inexperience and fear someone of his thirteen years of age had every right to feel in this sort of situation, but looking weak wasn't going to earn himself any favours with his furious father. The boy pointed towards the towering Archdemon that cast a long shadow over them (in spite of the lack of sunlight and any illumination past the crackling storm and the pit of lava beneath the godlike being) with the Sword of Glass, hating the fact that the crystalline blade was shaking violently in his trembling grip as he shouted, attempting to infuse his voice with righteous confidence but instead having it emerge as a pathetic squeak of: "I know you hate me dad, but we need to kill the Archdemon Rakdos so that we can save our Lucaelian force-"

"Our Lucaelian force?!" the six foot seven man bellowed in outrage, making Caiellis start to breath even faster to the point that he began to hyperventilate, though managed to at least stop himself from whimpering, "You mean the force made from the combined armies of the one that I and your brother led while you failed horribly at obeying orders and messed around with the legions of Scientia Mos?! You mean the force that you abandoned on your fool's errand to this place whilst directly disobeying the orders in which I specifically told you and your brother to stay close to me?! Or do you mean the group of soldiers in Fort Egetau that you made die horrible deaths simply because you couldn't follow simple damn orders?!"

Cai visibly shrunk and rocked back with each of the accusations, and for the second time when arguing with his father he felt absolutely no defiance whatsoever, no burning desire to turn the conversation on its head and repel his dad's harsh and illogical assertions, though how he felt now was redolent to the beginning of most of their arguments, the deep sadness that swallowed everything else apart from the blazing spark of resistance that had kept him going after his only release, which had been cutting himself ever since that first meeting with dad over a month ago, had been forbidden, though that had more to do with the overwhelming pressure and the fact he had felt all alone with his seventeen year old brother understandably wanting more personal space after spending nine years almost constantly in his kid brother's presence. Now there was nothing, and he had to accept his father's criticism for what it was: the truth. He had just foolishly hoped that that truth could wait until after this battle, and blinked his eyes clear of his tears that had started to well up, seeing his dad sneer at him at the pathetic gesture entirely unbefitting of a Lucerna, but then Caiellis had always been a useless descendant of Matalis Ortus.

"And don't worry, I intend to deal with that bastard demon over there that you caused to be Summoned in your reckless and stupid charge to this place!" the man snarled, before his simultaneously icy and furious blue eyes narrowed at his son's reaction as he leered at the boy, a cold sneer of hatred stretching across his face, "Oh, did you think that I had simply failed to notice that it was your failures that led to the Summoning of Rakdos (who gave a little wave unseen by any of the four on the plaza below and licked his lips hungrily at this new gift given to him – he did love surprises!) in the first place?! How damn unexpected of you Caiellis, hoping that I wouldn't see your mistakes! If you were going to place your family and army in massive amounts of danger by fleeing from them, you could at least achieve your objective with a modicum of success!"

Cai slumped, knowing that what the man said was true and that it was his fault an Archdemon had entered the world, but that was exactly why they needed to combine their forces and kill the grinning Lord of Riots together, so he replied quietly, his voice carried on the wind that had sprung up to his father's ears, as if speaking any louder would cause his brittle body to shatter into a million pieces with even the slightest intensity of noise, "I was trying … and now that you have arrived I thought that we could kill the Archdemon together to help atone for my mistakes-"

"There is no way you can atone for what you have done you selfish, self-entitled little brat!" the man barked at him, looking to Caiellis as if he was finally releasing all of the anger that had first started brewing ever since their first ever argument because of the fact that Alexander had almost died, Cai had been at the end of his tether what with the abduction that had been caused by his weakness and the reality that Marik hadn't listened to him at all before they entered the fateful negotiations with the Welkalites that had led to them being here now, and the king had been pulling at his hair over the kidnapping of his precious son and his near death that was Caiellis's fault.

The Aksua incident and the resultant arguments had left a huge storm hanging over the small family (kind of like the demonic one now blocking out the sun above us) that his big brother had desperately tried to dispel and attempt to bring the sunlight back to the Lucerna family, but Alex's efforts had ultimately been in vain, only stemming off the inevitable when Marik turned on his youngest son. Alexander's presence had only prevented Marik from continuing their argument because of the fact that their dad clearly loved the older boy and didn't want him to come to any harm, but Cai had to forcefully drag his wailing mind from his thoughts as he saw Akroma launch a blinding strike at his own Angel of the Black Sun, Orzhova blocking the crashing blow on a shield of glass and shadow that was cleansed by the thrumming Blade of Wrath. Marik then growled again, "When are you going to take responsibility for your mistakes, instead of blaming them on everyone else?! Huh?!"

"I told you, dad," Caiellis spoke calmly and clearly, though he had to mentally force himself to stop at least some of his frightened shaking, watching his father carefully for any sudden movement as the man threateningly paced towards him, his heavy footfalls laden with malice and forbidding intent as his boots slammed on the abused ground of the Redhand Mansion courtyard, as he was quite worried by the fact that the Angel of Wrath was attacking Orzhova and driving his angel away from Caiellis, and while he would normally have been able to hear their heavenly words the cacophonous and disruptive power of the Tempest of Craving was drowning them out for the moment, though if the thunder stopped he would be able to perceive the angelic dialogue. He just hoped beyond any rational thought that it was indicative of what his father was about to do, as he added softly, "I was trying to make up for my mistakes by coming here and facing Tradax alone so that no one else needed to go through the pain of doing so."

"How damn selfless of you, my son," the king smiled mirthlessly, the sarcasm of his words laced with unadulterated hatred that bit into Caiellis deeply as the boy took a step back to increase the distance between him and his wrathful father, not wanting to have to risk himself in the combat with his dad but also not yet fully believing that such a thing would be the outcome of Marik's current actions of insulting and belittling his youngest son, forcing his breathing to relax when his vision started going blurry as he wiped the blood matted hair out his eyes. The small prince mentally prepared himself for more words, trying to make himself not affected by the degradations coming from the man that had once shown affection and love to him long ago before the violence, loss and betrayal of the civil war that had ruined Marik's life and comprised the vast majority of Caiellis's relatively brief foray into living.

Whilst he had been able to sustain himself after Alexander's wounding with his fiery defiance, feeding upon his anger because he knew that it wouldn't make him turn to self-loathing and hatred for himself, now that he didn't have any of that rising up within him at the moment Caiellis felt very similar to how he had after that portentous day in which the king of Lucael had returned back to Capitalia Lux a few days after Tristram and Tybalt (who had been newly elected Guardian and Hierarch respectively when the king arrived) and faced his youngest son who had failed to pass his extremely suicidal Summoning trial (that in essence Marik had caused him to complete because of the fact that he had thought so little of himself in spite of Alex's (and others', but his big brother was the greatest contributing factor in this instance) reassurances that he wasn't worthless) had taken them there for the final time.

The pain of rejection and betrayal stabbed into his young heart that Cai wasn't sure could take any more torment without breaking completely, as the only things holding it together at the moment were the love that his big brother and Uncles showed to him combined with the shame that he would bring upon his family should he end his own life and the sadness he would inflict upon Alexander that his selfless and loving older brother didn't deserve at all. He knew precisely why he didn't have any anger inside of him despite his father's awful words that shook him to his core and might have finally dislodged any naïve and childish hope that the man would ever love him again that somehow still survived within his soul in spite of the abuse that his father had wreaked upon him. It was because truthfully, he was absolutely terrified.

He was so damn scared of this battle, and had his fear amplified when he killed Tradax and the most powerful being that he had ever seen before entered the world, was exhausted because of two consecutive Summonings of his First Sisterhood angel when only one left him drained and spent even if he didn't use any powerful spells, in pain because of the magic of the Defiler, but mostly frightened of the demon that couldn't be touched by anything that he had tried to attack with it and even playing with him had completely outmatched the youngest prince, and just wanting someone else to come and give him emotional reassurance and help him through this almost impossible fight, someone that he would be happy dying next to because that was the likely outcome of the battle against Rakdos.

Instead he was presented with censure and hatred from someone who had shown love and disapproval in roughly equal amounts to him before – with the latter very recently and the former so long ago that he could barely remember – and it did absolutely nothing to help combat his tremendous fear. Cai just wanted someone to come and help him to fight against Rakdos, but knew that the world didn't work in such a way and instead he had been given his furious father who was still pacing towards him, the most terrifying Caiellis had ever seen him which included the time that he had choked his youngest son. His blue eyes were blazing and his face was red from the blood splattered upon it that coloured the short blonde and white hair, dripping down his shaven face – as for as long as Cai could recall Marik hadn't ever had a beard – and spilling in cascading rivulets down his silver armour that made him look even bigger and was occasionally brightened by a frightening flash of crimson lightning from the Tempest of Craving.

He swept his gaze round to the two First Sisterhood angels, and Akroma was very clearly driving Orzhova away from him so that him and his dad were alone, though for what purpose Caiellis refused to think about because he knew that unless it happened he would continue to assure himself that it wouldn't even with all evidence pointing to the contrary. It was incredibly naïve and foolish, but he was grateful for what little comfort it gave him. Despondency and fear swept through the small boy, as his father growled, "You've had your chance to make amends for your failures, and now, before I kill the Archdemon and lead the Kingdom of Light's army to victory over the Welkalites, I'm going to make sure that you never have chance to make mistakes that will cost the lives of loyal Lucaelians any more!"

Caiellis was fully unprepared for the sudden burst of speed his father put on, launching himself across the courtyard with his massive greatsword arcing down towards Caiellis and cutting a sizzling trail through the numerous droplets of blood pouring down from the crack in the sky, and even worse found that his body had frozen upon, becoming paralysed in the sheer terror of betrayal before a scintillating blast of White mana pulsed through his limbs and fortified his mind, though it could not salve his distraught emotional state as he leapt backwards at the last second, the man's Lucerna broadsword hacking through the air where the thirteen year old had been stood, frozen to the spot by his father's piercing accusations.

He knew that the mana had come from Orzhova, who had managed to be focussed on her own fight against her furious sister enough to augment her Summoner's speed, but didn't have any way of thanking her or ruminating upon it when his dad came at him again, his austere face set in a cold and hostile scowl of annoyance and hatred as the blood from the Rain of Gore ran down it, and he desperately cried, feeling just as powerless as he had been that horrible moment yesterday morning, hoping that his voice was inflected with enough desperation to make Marik feel concerned for him as well as enough strength that hopefully would tell the man that he wanted to make up for his mistakes, "Dad, please! Stop this! We can fight together against the demon, and once we have one I can pay the price of my errors!"

"And risk having you stab me in the back as I risked my life for you fighting against the Archdemon?! Not a chance!" the king scoffed loudly, his hard voice full of unsympathetic disdain for his exhausted, hurt, emotionally sore and frightened thirteen year old son, as he blasted out a beam of light from his free hand that shot through the air and impacted on a shield of combined shadows and imperious incandescence that Cai created in an attempt to block it. The bolt of wrath sheared straight through his magical defences, though luckily – not that I can really call this "lucky" - its intensity was severely reduced as it crashed into his chest, sending him tumbling backwards but not incinerating a hole through his slender form. Cai was sent tumbling across the hard ground again for the umpteenth time today, scraping his easily damaged and already bruised body on the hard and suffering a wide variety of grazes and abrasions even through his light armour.

He pushed himself to his feet quickly, blinking his eyes to clear them of the bloody rain – and the tears – that were blurring his vision, his father striding towards him again as he tried once again to dissuade the man from his current course of action, although it felt to Caiellis like he was trying to reason with a blaring and unstoppable monorail train that was seconds from running over the stupid little boy that was caught on the tracks, "Dad, you know I wouldn't do that! Please, dad, stop! When have I ever hurt you before?!"

"You can't even see your own mistakes?! How pathetic. I thought that I had raised you better than that!" the man snapped back, running forward again and unleashing a blistering array of heavy strikes with his large blade that Cai was hard pressed to avoid and deflect away from himself, knowing that his father was far, far stronger than he was and that any attempt to block the powerful blows with his lamentable physical strength would end in abrupt failure and probably even end up severely hurting his arm. He needed to delay, to see if he could somehow convince him of the wrongs of this course of action, though he still couldn't help but think bitterly, you didn't raise me at all. The boy knew that close quarters would only spell failure for him, so conjured up his stained glass wings and flew back from his dad only to have them shattered by a dispelling pulse of disenchanting White mana that destroyed his aerial mobility, but at least he had managed to put a bit more distance between him and his irascible male parent.

"Let me enlighten you then! You left your older brother, my eldest son, to die while you pranced around in happy fantasy land!" the king roared, leaping towards Caiellis and hacking round with his blade, capitalising on the boy's dodge to catch him with a backhand blow with the mailed fist of his free hand that slammed into his left side, though the awkward angle had prevented him from hitting or damaging any organs. It still sent the boy flying back as pain erupted in his arm, although no bones had been broken and he resolved to deal with it as he had suffered worse, though he wasn't sure if he had suffered any worse emotional pain than this. Of course I have. My perfect and loving mum died right in front of my eyes at the age of four years old.

The words and blows were supposed to hurt, that much Caiellis understood, and he fully agreed that he deserved his father's anger, but as much as he hated to admit it he was still young and was going through a very hard period of his awful life and angels damn it I don't know what to do, alright! I don't know what I am supposed to do! I know that I should have been there to protect my older brother when he almost died, and I know it was my fault, but maybe if the world wasn't so awful now then I would never have been enticed by Aksua's dream realm! Cai forced himself to try and remain calm, but it was like trying to stop a tsunami of emotion with a small wooden fence, and he couldn't stop thinking of Alexander laid on the ground, with blood pumping from his wounds and an oily black substance pouring out of his gasping mouth with the Light-bearers frantically trying to save him. Sure, Alex had recovered, but it had been far closer than he had ever wanted his big brother to get to the threshold between life and death, and his eyes widened as he realised the next words that his father was about to snarl just before he did them.

"And now, because of your idiotic fool's errand, you have forced me to abandon Alexander to try and help you! Your brother, who has only just recovered from life-threatening wounds could be anywhere in the city and fighting for his life against thousands of Welkalites without me at his side and able to protect him, all because of you stupidly abandoning the rest of the force disobeying my orders and causing an immensely powerful demon to be Summoned!" Marik bellowed, and Cai was unprepared for the sheer blast of wrath issued forth from his father that crashed straight through the fragile half-formed shield he tried to quickly raise against it, sending him flying back across the courtyard as he slammed one the large spikes curling up out of the ground, the force of the mana that his dad emitted pressing him against the hard rock as Marik walked closer up to him, striding with a fast speed and yet with inexorable and relentless purposefulness at the same time.

He swung his sword at Caiellis, who managed to block it with the Sword of Glass in such a way that he was actually able to push it away from carving into him, augmenting his lack of strength with golden mana that flowed through his arm and into the crystalline blade, the two swords overflowing with magical potency grinding against each other as the boy was pressed further back into the rock pillar, wincing in pain as his wounds scraped up against the hard stone and he had trouble breathing, his father growling as he increased the force behind his greatsword, "You don't pay attention, you never listen, and I'm fed up with all of your questions! You're incapable of obeying orders and that puts other people at risk! I fucking warned you … I told you that someday you were going to get one of us killed!"

"Dad … please," Cai begged, before releasing his grip on his blade and sliding away by ducking down from the pressure on his blade, catching his father off guard as his shining sword slammed into the rocky spire arcing up into the air behind them, hacking a deep gouge into the stone and sending rock fragments clattering everywhere as Cai yanked on the magical tether connecting him to his sword as he skidded back from his dad. The man was in a perfect position for Caiellis to counter attack as he struggled with pulling his sword out of the rock, but the boy found that in spite of all that his father had done to him, he couldn't countenance raising a blade against his dad or attacking him with a burst of magic, and Marik seemed to realise that as a grim smile etched itself onto his austere and coldly furious features as he dragged his broadsword out of where it had lodged itself in the rock, sending a spray of debris spattering out from it as he turned to face his son, who had retreated back further and held his sword with a trembling grip.

Damn it, Caiellis! You had the perfect chance to incapacitate him there! Why didn't you take it? A more angry part of his mind yelled at him, but the young adolescent knew exactly why he hadn't tried to weave some form of magic to send his father into the realm of unconsciousness, and it wasn't just that it was nearly impossible – though not as impossible as defeating him in combat – and would probably end in failure, just like everything else I do, but it was because he knew that he couldn't face Rakdos alone again and needed aid with it, and because he knew what his dad was saying was horribly true and that what he had done would may well end in the deaths of more Lucaelians. All he had wanted to do was try to take away some of the pain of others, but he had just ended up causing them more pain.

Had he been able to muster up any anger, he would have shouted at his father that it was his fault for bringing Alex to this fight in the first place and had he listened to his youngest son's strategies this never would have happened, but that would have required him to be able to summon any emotion up but the fear that was flooding through him, making his breaths faster and shorter and making his palms sweat and his small body shake with terror and sadness. Why was this happening to him? Why does dad want to do this to me? I know he hates me, but … doesn't he understand that Rakdos is just baiting him into this? The demon wants to fight him alone! "Dad, why do you think that Rakdos is just letting you do this?"

"Stop trying to change the conversation you little brat!" the man snarled back, implacably advancing once more towards his son's new position with his eyes full of hatred and no parental love whatsoever, as he continued, his words like icy daggers stabbing into Caiellis's spine as more genuine fear rushed through the boy, "And I don't care why that damn demon is not trying to kill us now, but I'm grateful for it since it allows me and Akroma to deal with you and Orzhova! Rakdos probably thinks that by letting me finish you, he is cutting down out power, but we both know that you would just be dragging us down and getting in my way like you always have done, you pathetic burden of a Lucerna!"

Across the courtyard, two angels that were extremely similar yet massively different faced off against each other, one a coldly angry avatar of wrath and the ultimate price of disobedience whereas the other was a golden and imperious representation of darkness combined with the light, her scythe shining with golden light as she repelled the strike of the Blade of Wrath. Unlike her young Summoner who was struggling to think of striking back against his horrible father that Orzhova had trouble believing had changed so much over the course of the two wars (the civil war and the one they were ending now) and the battle – as he had comforted Caiellis before the arguments began, and had congratulated his son before they met up after the liberation of Jeksaan – the Angel of the Black Sun had no compunctions about fighting against Akroma, and it was fully expected for her sister to act in this way.

Akroma had never cared about her Summoners in Orzhova's opinion, using them to further her own goals of making the light more powerful than the darkness and not taking an interest in them personally – which in fact was how quite a few of her elder sisters acted – and now that she had seen her traitorous sister for the second time after the reign of the Emperor of Light Akroma had decided that now was the time to turn upon her and eliminate her from the world of mortals, as the first instance in which the two had met in the material plane poor, dear Serenity had been there and would have stopped them from fighting. Nonetheless, Orzhova was still extremely perturbed that she had chosen now to do it instead of waiting until the fight against the rather pressing issue of an Archdemon finished, and the madly spinning halo above her sister's head that hissed when the blood from the Rain of Gore impacted onto it that was more visible than usual and had been a gift from their divine mother herself disturbed Orzhova, though she supposed that she had never seen her cold sister show this much emotion before and her halo could be symptomatic of that.

"What are you doing, Akroma?" she demanded, her voice full of an anger she herself felt at the betrayal of her precious young Summoner, batting aside a bolt of milky White mana with a shroud of dark shadows coiled and moulded by golden luminescence before it smashed into her and retaliating with a burst of darklight bolts that impacted upon her sister's shield against the magics of darkness and chaos that made her all but immune to weak attacks and would serve her well in fighting the Lord of Riots should they be able to put aside their differences and combat the Archdemon together, "What are you and your Summoner trying to achieve through this? Why aren't you helping me and Caiellis against the Defiler?"

She bombarded the Angel of Wrath with questions as frequently as she did magical missiles, her frustration rising when her sister simply snarled in response and ignored that magic of Black and White combined crashing into her heavenly form, conjuring several spheres of blinding and unsympathetic White mana that she hurled at the dark seraphim, who managed to deflect some of them on her scythe while others exploded in blasts of light next to her and scorched her flawless flesh.

Orzhova wasn't sure she could take on one of her most powerful sisters at the best of times, as any potential engagement in Sancturia between the two would last quite a long time, but she was well aware of how drained her Summoner was and didn't want to sap away much of the boy's manner since he was already struggling against his stronger and older father that of course would prevail over his thirteen year old son, as well as having his emotional state slowly wrecked and shattered by the man's words. The Angel of the Black Sun couldn't hear what the humans were saying, nor could she communicate mentally with her boy Summoner, but Cai's emotions of dejection and deep sadness were clear in her mind, as well as the fact he was running out of mana quite fast the longer she was active.

As Akroma flew towards her, Orzhova responded in kind and met the Blade of Wrath with her nameless scythe as the two signature weapons of First Sisterhood angels clashed, their mana clashing against each other and spraying into the air all around them as they strained against each other. Orzhova raised her eyebrows when her sister growled at her again, but this time with words, as she had been fully expecting the Angel of Wrath to have stayed silent and full of cold wrath throughout the fight, "You need to be brought to justice, Orzhova, and it cannot wait any longer!"

"What, so it can't wait until we have banished an Archdemon from the world? Am I missing something here? I thought you hated demons more than anything else, which was the one thing we could agree on, and surely the Lucaelians will benefit more from destroying him rather than attacking me?" the Angel of the Black Sun questioned, knowing that while she could do reasonably well against her sister and hold her own for a while her fragile Summoner desperately needed help and the fact that Akroma was keeping close would prevent her from initiating a Voidwalk and coming to his aid, as well as being driven further back from Caiellis by the Angel of Wrath.

The other seraph snarled again, filled with a sheer anger that Orzhova had never seen from her sister before, as normally it was simply cold and wrathful hatred that she favoured her enemies with, as she ripped her blade from where it was grinding against Orzhova's scythe and launched another searing attack against the dark angel that she was hard pressed to block, much more comfortable with magic than physical combat – a trait that she and her Summoner shared – and forced her to land on the ground in order to block the overhead blow on the shadowy haft of her weapon, the ground cracking beneath her golden heels as her black robes billowed out in response to her collecting mana within her scythe.

"I do hate demons, and rest assured that I will destroy the Lord of Riots once I have finished you and made sure that you cannot escape again!" Akroma yelled at her, her otherworldly voice suffused with a powerful and emotional resonance that heightened the strength of her blows as she pulled her sword away and attacked again, landing on the ground as well and rushing at her angelic sister, their blades clashing in scintillating and incandescent displays of opposite and complimentary energies as she replied.

"But it is the nature of demons to be destructive and evil, and they could never be good or serve the light! They are like vindictive and sadistic vermin that do not know any better and need to be destroyed!" her hissing voice became akin to a furious shriek as she screamed at Orzhova, "But not you! You were an angel of good, a creation of the light with the holy duty to protect and serve it, and you chose to throw that all away in your selfish quest for your own egotistical goals! You betrayed our divine mother and lead the Kingdom of Light into a reign of darkness not seen since the days She descended to the world of man and created the holy realm of Lucael! You served the light and spurned our mother's blessings, and that is why you are a greater threat than any demon because you willingly turned to the darkness!"

Orzhova frowned deeply. She had known that all of her sisters hated her just as much as she hated them, which was a significant amount, but to see the cold Angel of Wrath expressing such anger and fury was unheard of – as Orzhova had expected her to be as coldly irate as she had been on the day of Caiellis's Angelic Descent and want to bring her to the judgement that she apparently deserved, just not this controlled by her rage due to the Angel of Wrath usually having a harsh stranglehold on her feelings, pushing them aside in the completion of her duty. It was especially worrying what Akroma had said, that she thought her renegade sister had turned to the side of the demons and darkness despite all pieces of information indicating the opposite, as surely she and Caiellis would have turned on the Kingdom of Light if her goal had been to destroy it or corrupt it by now? Something was wrong, but she didn't have enough time to figure out what or collect all the information in her head as her sister attacked again.

The words hit Caiellis hard again, as he knew that he was just a burden, a weight around all of their necks that would be better off cut free instead of just being carried around and weighing his family – which included his Uncles – down as his dad glared at him with undisguised hatred that no father should ever feel towards their son, but even so he tried to keep his tears in even though the effort in holding them back was costing him despite being so well practised when it came down to his dad. Right now, all he wanted to do was give up and cry his eyes out while waiting for the end to come, but knew that would be even more pathetic than trying to convince his dad to fight with him instead of against him and he wanted to help in the banishment of the incredibly entertained Rakdos because it was his fault that he had been Summoned and a stronger person would have stopped it, a smarter person would have realised that killing Tradax so late wouldn't achieve anything. It was too late for that now.

Had he been any less swamped by his emotions, Cai might have noticed that all of his father's movements, magic and blows were at less power and speed than they should have been, that he hesitated slightly before every attack as if one part of his mind was railing against what he was doing to his youngest and most fragile son and attempting to hinder him.

Had he been less consumed by despair, he might also have picked up on the fact his father was quite heavily wounded, with two large holes through the armour covering his lower abdomen that leaked blood down his protective covering where it was concealed by the torrential downpour of gore from the Tempest of Craving, as well as numerous other injuries such as electrical burn marks and several blades small embedded in his back, but all Cai could think about was the fact his dad rightly hated him and wanted him dead and the reality that his big brother would be filled with worry – though I don't know why anyone would ever worry about me – and trying to his fight through the City of Pleasure to get to Cai and could well be dead, as the boy couldn't sense anything in his sixth sense past the overpowering presence of the Lord of Riots that was watching the two familial conflicts with a sick form of glee similar to that of a little child but possessed of a much darker malevolence than anything a mere human could muster.

The man rushed him again, spitting curses to his youngest son as his sword flashed through the air, and Cai predictably dived back away from it instead of facing the Lucerna greatsword wielded by the supreme king head on before realising his mistake as numerous blades of light lanced down from the sky above him, some held in place by the shield of substantial darkness he moulded around himself as he darted side to side to avoid his dad's magic. One cut into his back as he was busy blocking another on his artefact armament, and he cried out in pain as he felt the stinging sensation of a slice down his soft skin that immediately started to bleed, and he only just managed to twist to half-deflect the king's strike as the man charged at him through the distraction of the magical blades that Cai had seen him use before but never having had it directed towards himself, his arm aching in pain as he blocked the massive sword as he almost dropped his own blade.

His father was furious, but now it was bordering on madness, worse than he had ever seen before from anyone not affiliated with the darkness, and it was really scaring him. He had never been this violent before, even when he had pinned Cai down on his bed and throttled him, because even then he had ultimately held back and hadn't been as angry as he was now. At the present Caiellis was afforded no such luxury and shook with fear as he tried to resist his father's blade and stop it from carving into him, though for what reason he wasn't sure. For Alex; I'm doing this for him, and all of the innocent Lucaelians and Welkalites that need someone to kill the Archdemon and remove its corruption from this world. But dad is trying to do that as well...

The man dragged his blade away as Cai almost fell forward with the sudden removal of force against the momentum that he had gathered, but righted himself at the last second as a sword was swept past the spot his head had been in, cutting off strands of his medium length brown hair that was drenched in unnatural blood much like the rest of him was, and then a leg slammed into his right one and tripped him over with the force of the blow. He rolled frantically, indirectly firing projectiles of light at his father to delay him, if not outright hurt him, all the while cursing his weakness at harming the man who had created him while dad didn't hesitate at all to do the same. He scrambled back to his feet, cutting his hands on jagged rocks on the ground as he pushed himself upright so that he could better dodge the man's blows, though he still wasn't exactly what he wanted to achieve by doing this.

All his mind could think of was the need to be safe that Cai knew wouldn't come within the immediate future unless his big brother turned up, but because of his own idiocy the seventeen year old had probably rushed through the city and met greater resistance than their father had in coming here, and he relied upon the older boy enough. Well, that and the fact that he was a useless failure and his dad hated him. He blocked another sword blow on his magic, drawing it up from reserves within him and trying to ignore his sheer exhaustion that constantly threatened to drag him into the cold embrace of sleep, blasting chains of gold at his dad that he had planned to wrap around him and prevent him from attacking his son while they talked, but Marik snarled in a mixture of contempt and fury as a blast of White thundered around his tall and intimidating form.

Cai ignored his first failed attempt and this time flung coils of shadow at his father's sword hand and greatsword that wrapped around it, but he wasn't strong enough to pull it out of his grip as he advanced, sending a shockwave of mana at his son a second after he cast a silencing spell upon the boy that would prevent him from flying away on his wings of stained glass as the wave crashed into him, sending him sprawling as he lost his grip on his blade and skidded painfully along the cracked ground. He yanked on the chains around his dad's blade as he fell, dragging the heavy broadsword out of his grip and flinging it away despite the fact that it would leave him defenceless should the Archdemon suddenly get bored watching the show and decided to kill the Lucernas, just as a booted foot impacted into his side and sent him rolling even further as he gasped in pain and his vision was clouded by tears of agony.

At least two of his ribs had shattered upon the impact, making him able to empathise with Alex's pain when that had happened to his older brother, though his were more fragile than the older boy's were and would break after less force was applied to them, and as he blearily gazed up at his dad the man stalked menacingly closer, his eyes full of the intent to hurt the boy who tried to withdraw as best he could, knowing he had failed when a hard grip encircled his upper left arm that would definitely leave a bruise – the least of his concerns – and in the next second he was tossed through the air like an unwanted doll and crashed into one of the last remaining walls of the Protector's homely mansion that had been shattered apart by the demonic transformation of his private residence.

His head smashed sideways into the stone and burst open, spraying crimson blood in every direction as he whimpered pathetically, his back also bruising on the impact and his newly broken ribs protesting on being moved and thrown about like that. The boy's terrified eyes flicked up to where his father was striding slowly closer, taking his time now that Cai was utterly at his mercy, the boy recalling his sword to him as Marik snapped the magical tether with his boot enchanted with erasing mana as he walked towards his son and lifted him off of his feet, his blue eyes full of hatred as Caiellis tried to squirm away and let out an involuntary shriek at the pain he was in, met by his father's sneer of disdain at his son succumbing to the pain so easily.

He stared up at his dad through the haze of pain and turmoil, his head swimming and his gut churning violently which did no favours for his damaged ribs as the man glared at him, raising his son's head so that he met his burning gaze, a mirthless and cold smile utterly bereft of parental warmth stretched across his features.

"You worthless little shit," the king whispered, softly, out of place in the shouting and violence of only a few seconds ago as his son gasped in pain and tried to pull away as he was hoisted off his feet and pressed into the wall, "To think that Emili, your mother, my perfect wife, died to save you..."

He shook his head with disgust and pushed his son harder into the wall as he cried out, and then said the worst thing a father could ever possibly say to his child, "I should have just left you there to die along with her."

---

New Summonings in this chapter:

Arendus Draal: Master of Cruelties

---

I almost feel sorry for the Lucerna family. Only almost because there is worse to come ;)