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.

33. Through the Spyglass of Memory

Caiellis gasped in pain, completely mortified as the tears methodically conquered his defences because of the agony he was in mixed with the horrific words from a father that he already knew didn't love him and so shouldn't have cried about it, but in this dire situation his inner thirteen year old broke out of the shell he had created for himself and poured in liquid form out of his pained and young green eyes, streaming down his bruised and bloodied yet pale face and cascading down his gaunt cheeks, weakly pleading, "Dad … no … you don't mean that ..."

The pain in his back increased as the man shoved him further into the stone wall, a cold leer stretching across his face as he glared down at the boy, and after a few seconds a sick smile etched itself upon his features as he saw his thirteen year old son writhing in pain and feebly trying to break free, but Cai couldn't spare any of his limbs to remove the emotional tears that were pouring out of his eyes and blurring his already hazed vision, both physical and mental pain combining to put the youngest and smallest Lucerna under tremendous amounts of pain that no boy his age should have had to suffer through in an ideal world.

"Do you really think that?" the king smirked maliciously at his crying youngest son, though Caiellis couldn't see the fact that one of his eyes was baulking at the pain inflicted upon the boy as he shook him again, jolting his broken ribs painfully as the hand on his left shoulder that he was desperately trying to remove increased the intensity of their agonising and implacable grip, almost snapping the bones within as Marik ignored the frantic thrashing of his child, the other hand holding the front of his fabric shirt – as the enchanted leather above hit had split open – pressing into his upper chest and making it even more difficult to breathe, though not so much that his terrified sobs couldn't be heard. Marik studied the just teenager like he was a pathetic and weak insect under a magnification glass, and Cai suddenly felt as – or perhaps even more – worthless than his dad had declared only moments earlier, not that he didn't already, although now his emotions were amplified by the distraught torment he was in.

"Let's see then. I had to leave my eldest boy, my only true son..." Marik seemed to enjoy the flinch of purely emotional hurt Caiellis displayed for a second and shook his son again, sending the tears misting up his vision cascading down his face as they were soon replaced by more, but now Cai could actually see – and it certainly didn't confer any reassurance, as the brief glimmer of aghast terror and remorse had disappeared completely from the man's cold blue eyes before the littlest prince was given chance to observe it in his dad, and now there was only unadulterated hatred, disappointment and anger present in his simultaneously frosty and chilling yet burning gaze that increased in power as he fatefully and sadistically spoke his next words, "All alone in the capital city of Welkas with the largest army he has ever fought against just because I had to come fix your mistakes."

Cai sunk further into his misery and despair, blocking out everything around him as one part of him tried to conjure up some form of mana to blast his father away – though that urge didn't belong to him and was Orzhova trying to help while she was still occupied with a frenzied Akroma, as Cai was utterly despondent and knew that he couldn't fight back – but was cancelled out by his father's powerful technique of preventing his enemies from casting spells when in close contact with the king of Lucael, a similar ability to those from the former City of Quiet and now the City of Silence but one that was amplified to a whole new degree by his Lucerna heritage.

He let the thoughts take him away from the pain, though the emotional hurt still seethed around the temporary conscious sanctuary he had inadvertently created for himself to block out the agony his young and fragile body was in and screamed his father's accusations and degradations upon him, both in the man's original voice and Caiellis's hissing tone that was full of self-loathing and hatred directed at himself, his own idiocy that could easily have led the Lucaelian force to defeat and put his precious big brother that was ten times the Lucerna he could ever hope to be in terrible danger.

A vicious backhand from a mailed gauntlet soon broke him from his sorrowful reverie as his already hurt head bounced off of the wall behind him that hadn't crumbled under the wrath of the Lord of Riots who had leaned forward so that he could hear the words of the gift delivered to him by one of Malfegor's brothers, Cai letting out an involuntary yelp of pain as his dad shook him, the pressure on his shoulder and chest that he had previously thought couldn't get any worse increasing even more to the point where he felt that his very soul was being crushed out of his body.

Had he been able to process normal thought through the turmoil of sadness and despair swirling within his mind, Caiellis would have been worried about the amount of damage his body was sustaining in this battle for Usnaan, especially since it couldn't be healed because of the Rain of Gore that fell down from the dark heavens of the crackling Tempest of Craving, but right now the boy was entirely focussed upon his thoughts and what his father was saying to him, though for a moment all he could hear was a white noise resounding through his skull because of the further abuse inflicted upon it, until that faded and he was able to perceive what his dad was saying anyway, although he soon came to the conclusion that the sensory deprivation was much worse.

"Are you hearing me, boy?" the man hissed, suddenly much more angry than he was before as instead of just cold fury his rage then became inflamed, the grip on his shoulder and the front of his shirt becoming even more painful as the boy whimpered, slumping against the wall and resigned to his fate, though his dad wouldn't let him attempt to escape from the pain and pressed his face forwards, letting go of his shoulder with his right hand (which only eased the pain slightly, suggesting that it was broken or near that point, and subsequently heightened the pain on his chest as he had to be pressed harder so that his father could keep him off of his feet) and grabbed the side of his youthful face, forcing him to look into his eyes as the purple light of the tears streaming down his Black Sun birthmark was contrasted heavily by the pure White light emitted by the man's normally large hand that was even bigger with the bloodstained gauntlet sheathing it, the man's large metal-clad finger resting just above the large cut on his head and pressing into the wound.

Cai tried to pull away, but his dad's grip was as strong as it had ever been and easily held his physically weak son in place, leaning closer so that the boy could feel the heat of his breath on his bruised and bloodied face, and if he didn't already have blood from numerous cuts and the steaming Rain of Gore as well as tears rushing down his ashen face underneath all of the crimson, the boy would have felt the flecks of lifeblood from Marik's breath spattered onto his face that suggested internal bleeding as he was forced to look into the man's eyes. Caiellis could feel his very soul and internal essence shrivelling up under that white hot glower of rage and felt smaller than he ever had done in the past, powerless to move or force his father away from him, not that it would erase his failures and his uselessness and the fact that everyone he had ever loved had gotten in danger because of him.

The pressure on his lungs made every breath he took painful as his dad hauled him further up the wall and pressed his own face closer until they were virtually nose to nose, the king's physical strength coupled with his youngest son's insubstantial weight making the move easily possible as Caiellis squirmed as his father shouted right into his face, "Your brother, my precious Alexander who will one day make a great king, could die at any moment just because you thought that it was acceptable to disobey my orders and rush into the city on your own! You could have at least got yourself killed without allowing this to happen! Alexander could be murdered at any second because of the fact that you made me have to run after you! He is the best thing that has ever happened to you, you worthless, useless, disgusting little brat! And what is worse, your mother who almost died giving birth to a son we never wanted, died to save your pathetic, miserable existence! The most perfect woman on the planet gave her life for you!"

Every word was like a piercing stab from a blade designed to inflict huge amounts of torture into the boy's brain as he cried, knowing that he looked as pitiful as his father suggested as he recoiled away from the words that condemned his whole life and even his existence, Caiellis's dad punctuating every bellowed statement by pulling his son back and smashing him into the wall again, sending dust and rubble crumbling from it and crashing into the ground next to them because of the fact his already strong attacks were augmented by the mana pouring out of him because of the fact he had Summoned the now crazed Angel of Wrath as he roared, "SO YOU COULD WHAT?! WASTE IT ARGUING WITH ME AND PUTTING THE KINGDOM AND THE ONLY SON THAT I EVER WANTED IN DANGER?!"

The man pulled the hand holding Caiellis's head in place back and punched him across the face, though not hard enough so that it would knock the boy unconscious nor prevent him from hearing the words that he was shouting at him, simply to put his son in more pain in an act that wasn't characteristic of what Marik would normally do nor something that matched his earlier assertions that he simply wanted his son dead or out of the way so that he could focus solely on the grinning Defiler as the king grabbed the boy again and shook him hard, once again forcing him to look back into his eyes as he shouted, "YOU CAN'T BE MY SON! NO SON OF MINE WOULD BE THIS PATHETIC, THIS PITIFUL, THIS SELFISH OR USELESS! EMILI WAS THE PERFECT WIFE, AND ALEXANDER IS THE PERFECT SON, AND YOU HAVE CAUSED THE DEATH OF THE FORMER AND ENDANGERED THE LATTER! TELL ME NOW THAT I DON'T MEAN IT!"

"Dad … please stop … please … I'm sorry … I didn't..." Cai gasped out through the pain, looking pleadingly up at his furious and mad father in the vain hope that his words and pain would penetrate through to him, but if what Marik had said was true – and the youngest Lucerna had no reason not to the believe the words – then the man had never loved him, that the affection Marik had shown to him in the past had never happened and had just been conjured by his young mind because he hadn't truly understood what was going on, because of the fact that the king had never wanted another son after having Alex. Marik simply glowered at him, moving his hand round from the side of the boy's face to the front as he alternated between gasps of torture and attempts to get air, and whimpered sobs at the feeling of utter hopelessness and despair worse than he had ever experienced before, even when trying to kill himself in the past because of him learning about the terrible deeds of the Angel of the Black Sun inside of him, begging, "Dad … Please … I'm sorry … I just … wanted to-"
Marik's hand lingered over his son's thin and still bruised throat for a second, assuming the exact same position it had been at the morning of yesterday, though this time if it was placed on there then it would be squeezing with a killing force, but some internal force within him prevented him from keeping it there and strangling his youngest son to death, the last remnants of free will that the king had over his anger stopping him from re-enacting the worst actions apart from these that he had ever inflicted upon either of his sons.

This was all unbeknownst to Caiellis, who had snapped his eyes shut, unable to take his father's piercing gaze any longer and was still whimpering, pleading desperately for the man to let him go despite the fact that deep down he knew he deserved his dad's punishment, knew he deserved the pain for his crimes and his failures against the people of Lucael and his big brother that had always protected him while his sibling failed to reciprocate the acts of kindness and do the same. He then opened his eyes again, tears still slipping out of them from the whirlpool of emotion within his broken heart, still imploring his dad to let him go despite the fact that he could barely string together a few words in a row because of the pressure on his chest and small lungs and the fact that his body was wracked with shivering sobs that made it hard to speak, "Dad … stop … I only … wanted to help."

Instead of grabbing him by the throat, Marik forced his son's mouth shut with his hand instead, harshly closing the jaw with a force of grip that would leave bruises afterwards as the metal of his gauntlet dug into the boy's chin, shouting, "Shut the hell up, Caiellis! Just shut up!"

Pawing at the man's arms didn't achieve anything but increase the pain he was in, and Cai's dad's grip didn't even move in the slightest despite his son's resistance as he tried to pull away or somehow make his father let go of him and release him, though Caiellis wasn't sure was he hadn't just given up already and let his dad end his pitiful life so that he couldn't be there to ruin anything else. No, he decided, he needed to live because the Lord of Riots was his responsibility, the Archdemon had led the Welkalites to this dark fate and abused the population through the Orders of Violence. He had caused this, which was exactly what his father had said, and it was his responsibility to end it no matter how wounded he was at the moment.

There was no doubt in Caiellis's mind that he was in an awful state, as he was still crying like some sort of pathetic child, though right now he was honestly very surprised he could focus his thoughts into clarity with the amount of emotional pain and turmoil he was in, or until his dad suddenly overcame the compulsion with him that was preventing him from going for his son's throat and slammed the boy against the wall by it, releasing his chin and shirt in favour of wringing his neck. Pain blossomed in Cai's back when he was smashed into the wall again, his ribs aching with agony that shuddered throughout his being as his air was cut off violently, his train of thought immediately disrupted as his fear resounded tenfold through his body as he tried to cried out in pain, but all that came out was a muffled and strangled gasp for air as one of his greatest fears was enacted upon him by the man that was supposed to love, care for him and nurture him until he became an adult but who instead had never even wanted him and now was going to kill him in the worst way possible to Caiellis's young mind.

Tears dripped down his face as he frantically tried to pull away or wrench himself out of his father's grip as the man smiled mirthlessly and sadistically, clearly taking pleasure in his son's pain despite himself, before the smile was replaced by further anger at Cai's barely heard pleading and he squeezed tighter to cut off the boy's air completely, leaving him utterly oxygen deprived as he thrashed despite the pain and primal fear flowing through him even though he knew that he had earned this torment through his failings and his worthlessness in keeping the people that depended upon him and protecting him safe in firstly rushing away from them to try and prove himself in a naïve attempt to have them, his fellow Lucaelians that either looked up to him as a divine Lucerna prince with an emissary from the highest of heavens to aid him in his exalted duty or the ones that knew him more personally and tried to nurture him (much like his dad had failed to do, although Caiellis could still remember a time where the younger him had loved the man and felt that it was mutual, which made the fact that Marik was killing him even more terrifying) go through less hardship, and secondly failing to stop the demonic Summoning of the Lord of Riots through the poor Jarred Redhand when he had been distracted by his victory over Tradax.

As black spots appeared in his vision and the drumbeat of the adrenaline fuelled blood within his skull became even louder and more painful, his consciousness – and with it, his life – slipping away from him every second, the tears slipping out of his now bloodshot emerald green eyes ran down his chin and onto his father's gauntlets, collecting there and fusing with the blood from the Rain of Gore and Caiellis's injuries that had poured onto them while the Black Sun on his pale cheek stained with crimson rivulets pulsed with a malevolent purple glow entirely eclipsed by the White mana emitted by the king of Lucael.

He couldn't breathe at all, that much was a given with his dad's prodigious physical strength directed against him in the man's anger and hatred, and he looked up at the one who had been an essential part in creating him imploringly, knowing that he was going to die if Marik didn't let go within a matter of seconds as darkness swirled around his vision and distorted his father's visage into something more akin to a demon, twisting the man's furious expression into the one of sadistic glee worn by the grinning demon that had killed his and Alexander's beloved and loving mother, and though that was terrifying in itself his starved and terrified mind blended the reality of the situation with the boy's memories, presenting him with images representing both the death of his mum and the fact that she had been ripped away from him and his brother, and the anger, disappointment and pure seething hatred of his dad's current appearance, the betrayal of his dad.

Well, it wasn't really a betrayal, as Marik hadn't ever wanted to have a second son, and Cai didn't blame him because of how much better Alex was compared to him. However, despite the fact that he had once thought that Marik had loved him when he was four years old as well, some part of his mind insisted that Emili Noctis had wanted him, had loved him, but it had been his fault that she had died. He had clearly been strong enough to kill the demons that had murdered his mum, as he could remember with absolute clarity the rush of pure Black mana that had erupted from his extremely young hands and had utterly destroyed the demonic assailants in a blast of dark flames, but had been too weak, too useless, to protect one of the few people in his life that actually loved him and she had paid the price for it.

Caiellis looked up at Marik pleadingly, his fingers scrabbling at the edge of his dad's armoured and unstoppably strong hands, not even dislodging one of the fingers with the increasingly faltering combined strength of both of his own thin and small hands as he tried to eke even a small breath of air into his burning lungs, his father's hands clamped harshly around his windpipe and putting painful pressure on the bruise that he had created the day before, not letting any life giving oxygen into his choking son who couldn't even gasp. Unbeknownst to him, his beloved big brother Alex was suffering the exact same fate as him at this moment in time, but the seventeen year old was much further away from death because of the fact he was stronger and his larger lungs could make his last breath last longer, whereas his fragile younger sibling was moments away from a plunge into darkness of which there would be no end or escape.

He batted weakly at the man's constricting hands before his fingers lost all energy within them and his arms fell numb at his sides as his dad's thumbs were pressed harder into the centre of his neck, the man's eyes piercing blue mixed with the gleaming peals of midnight obsidian the shape shifting demon that had ruined his life had fixed the four year old him with, and a thin trickle of crimson blood that was stark against the bluish pallor of his gaunt features and the vivid, almost pulsing red of the Rain of Gore spattered upon his face ran down from his corner of his mouth, just as unnoticed as the tears that joined it on the way down his face, splashing on his dad's uncaring and choking hands as his son died in his arms, his kicking legs falling still as well as the extremities of all of his limbs became number still, Marik almost completely crushing his windpipe though it was evident that at the moment he wanted to avoid that – as he could have easily snapped Caiellis's neck by now, or smashed his brains out on the wall behind him, or incinerated him in an immensely powerful bolt of wrathful White mana, but the man seemed to be enjoying prolonging his suffering for a few seconds longer than entirely needed as he killed the thirteen year old.

So this is what my life amounts to, Cai thought, deep within his mind as the rest of it drowned in fear and began to shut down in a last ditch effort to preserve his oxygen deprived form, A complete failure, a burden to everyone that has ever tried to help me or had to take care of me or protect me because of their duty in protecting the Lucerna line. I've failed in every way possible, and now all that is left is for me to die, killed by the one that made me in a mistake. But … But I don't want to die, one whimpering and quivering part of his mind begged, sobbing uncontrollably and providing sustenance for his tears that slipped silently out of his eyes, his fear controlling him and removing the more calmly disappointed and loathing-filled part of his psyche.

The young adolescent tried one last time to pull his father's hands away from his throat and didn't even succeed in moving his arms from where they had fallen limply at his side as he hung in the air, lifted up by Marik and pressed up against the last remnants of masonry in the Protector's Mansion as his vision began to fade away and he began the plunge into the place he hoped would take him away from the pain, the place that might allow him to see his mother again and feel the touch of her loving and tender hands on his forehead again. The loving embrace of his mother after huge amounts of pain that he didn't remember that must have been due to his premature birth was his first memory, and some gentle and caring part of his mind tried to focus on that, interspersing it with the brotherly love Alexander had always shown to him and the friendship that the older boy had forever given freely to his little brother so that he could concentrate on something happy before he left this world of hurt, but that happy image was soon shattered by his father's words and the realisation that Emili had died because of him and Alex may well suffer the same fate because of his foolish and selfish actions.

Marik placed his mouth next to Caiellis's ear as his son's eyelids began to flutter and more blood trickled out of his open mouth as he tried to breathe and fill his dying body with revitalising air, ensuring that his whispered words were loud enough to be heard over the pounding that would be inside of the boy's skull as his body began to give out, though there would be less than a minute after the slip into unconsciousness where the king would have to keep up the pressure of his grip if he wanted his son dead, as he muttered, his voice full of hatred and disappointment that made Caiellis's heart ache and would be the last thing he ever heard, "Why don't you do us all a favour, and just die?"

Cai was wracked with one last sob, though he couldn't hear whether or not his whimpering had got out past his forcefully closed windpipe over the crescendo of adrenalized blood resounding within his brutalised skull, though none of the pain in his body was worse than the burning in his lungs, and even that was easily outmatched by the emotional torment of his entire life focussed into one point of sadness and terror as his eyes began to close, mere seconds away from drifting into an unconsciousness he desperately wanted to avoid despite knowing that he had earned it, before the pressure on his throat suddenly eased up and he slumped to the ground, scraping his back on a jagged spike of rock as he tumbled down the wall and jarring his ribs on the fall.

He fell to his knees, automatically gasping for breath and unable to do anything other than greedily drink upon the air that flowed into his lungs, the taste of copper on his tongue from his own blood that had got into his mouth because of his father almost crushing his already fragile windpipe mingling and mixing with the unnaturally rich and vile metallic flavour from the Rain of Gore and the taste of ash derived from the corrupted air that flooded into him as he took in several long shuddering gasps, his vision still blurred with tears and the rush of air to his brain that would have seemed euphoric – and did to Alexander, as the same had just occurred to him in the Champion's Quarter – had he not been suffering so much emotionally, and his head pounded with the new air and blood – as his father had cut off his supply of it in the last moments of his near death – rushing through his form that was trembling with fear in spite of the proximity to death being removed for now.

He could sense an incredibly powerful presence filled with anger and hatred in front of him, but all the boy could see past his blurring vision was alternating streaks of different shades of light and darkness flashing across his vision, and past the resounding drumbeat within his skull that was resting limply against the wall despite the pain that it brought on he could hear the beating of angelic wings and feel the air buffeted around by them on his face. His head hurt, but Cai knew that moving it would simply bring on more pain as his lungs drank upon the gift of malicious air that was tainted by the overwhelming and land-altering power of an Archdemon that was increasing every second they delayed, no doubt warping Usnaan into its own hellish visage of a hedonistic and degenerate paradise for pursuing any and every forbidden sin.

The fact that he was breathing at an extremely heightened rate and almost hyperventilating – though each of the breaths was very long to maximise inhalation in spite of his fear and screaming instincts – was causing large amounts of pain to his damaged ribs – pain that I deserve because I allowed this and much worse to happen to Alex when we were fighting Aksua – which could help him immensely in empathising with his older brother who had suffered worse, and felt very light-headed because of the fact he had almost been asphyxiated and now he could breathe again and his body was taking full advantage of that sudden freedom, though his throat hurt more than anywhere on his body and would almost certainly develop a gigantic bruise to supplement the one already inflicted upon it by his father that hated him.

Caiellis knew that he wasn't out of danger yet, and that he should be moving to help whoever had saved him – probably Orzhova – against either his maddened dad that rightly hated his failure of a son more than anything else on the super-continent at the moment or the Archdemon if for some reason Marik thought that he had punished his son enough and that was why he let go, but didn't want to move and couldn't get over his sadness of having the life almost squeezed from him. It was similar to how he had reacted the first time it had happened with his father, unable to process any information in his mind other than the fact that the person he had idolised for the awful nine years of his short life in the brutal civil war caused by his uncle hated him and had tried to kill him, and for real this time – although the youngest Lucerna supposed that the incident previous to this one had been prevented by his Uncle Tristram who was probably being hurt right now because of his smallest student's utter failure to achieve anything in his pitiful life.

That was probably because if Marik had been seen killing his son by someone else, while the kingdom would be happy because the dreaded Angel of the Black Sun would lose her ability to enter the mortal realm for a long period of time, those that were for some stupid reason close to the thirteen year old would never forgive the king, whereas now Caiellis's father could blame his death on the Lord of Riots and get away with it easily, and that agonising revelation came with another burst of despair within his mind as the frequency of tears spilling out of his eyes increased as he succumbed to his sorrow again, wishing that whoever had saved him hadn't done so that he could have just died and got away from this horrible world that hated him and held the people that he held the most dear to his heart that the boy was just hurting by existing.

The adolescent could vaguely perceive the stony and angry tones of his father snarling something at the one stood protectively in front of him, but couldn't make out the content of the words over the sound of his blood rushing through his head - had the youngster been thinking rationally, Caiellis would have identified the concussion when it occurred, which was the first time he had been thrown across the courtyard by his furious dad and monarch and his frail skull had collided with the wall that was the only thing stopping him from sprawling out on the blood slick stone of the plaza now and had been accentuated by the repeated slamming against the aforementioned wall that had almost been the site of where he had died, but right now the ringing in his ears that temporarily blocked out the sounds of the world around him proved to be a perfect opportunity for his sorrowful thoughts to drown out any other logical thinking that might occur as he sobbed loudly in pain and mental distress.

I wish … I wish he hadn't stopped. It would have been better than having to face his anger for a second time and having that happen again, because I'm not strong enough to face him – just like I'm not strong to do anything of merit – again. I can't do this any more … I don't want to live any more … I'm just a burden … I don't want to hurt anyone else; I don't want the people I love to be hurt because of me. All I want is for Alex to be safe and happy, and he can't be with me here, putting him at risk and making him feel that he has to protect me because I'm too pathetic to do so myself. I don't know … I'm so scared … I want my big brother, but he's probably being hurt because of me right now. I don't … I don't know what to do. Caiellis's was wracked with more sobs that hurt everywhere on his fragile form as the tears cascading out of his eyes became a torrent of sadness and misery that he could remain drowning within forever because of the wounding of his heart that most likely didn't survive any more.

Stop being so damn selfish! Another part of his mind shouted at him, rousing the saddened part of him from where it was submerged in a pool of shed tears and the dejection that had encapsulated his entire life after the death of his mother; Cai could say that the voice sounded like the strong and confident tones of his older brother mixed in with the accusing voice of his father that had failed to deliver all that he had ever wanted from him, which was parental love that Caiellis knew he hadn't earned but greedily wanted anyway, the same type of love that he showed to Alexander, or the urging tones of Uncle Tristram when he was about to give up on the final lap of one of the brutal exercise regimes the Guardian had set for him and his brother during the civil war so that they could keep up their fitness, but most prominently the voice was his own, inflected with self-loathing that made the other part of him want to hide away from himself and continue wallowing in misery and self pity.

Nobody cares that you don't want to live any more, you have a duty to the kingdom and to those that had loved and protected you since you were born to atone for your crimes and end the threat of an Archdemon that you caused to be Summoned with your own weakness and stupidity, Caiellis Noctis Lucerna, and I will not let you give up now! You will fight, you will destroy Rakdos and banish him from the City of Pleasure so that the Lucaelians who are depending upon you as a Lucerna prince can win this war that the Lord of Riots caused and so that the people that have given up so much for you. This is your duty, your responsibility, and I won't let you run from it any more despite the fact that you feel terrified, sad and betrayed by your father who had no cause to love you in the first place. You can have your rest once you have killed the Defiler and removed the stain of your mistakes from the world so that everyone else can get on with their lives and stop worrying about you.

Caiellis forced his eyes to open, tears still dripping out of them but at a much lesser rate than they were before, and was presented with an upwards range of vision that indicated his head had lolled back and he was staring at the roiling and rumbling Tempest of Craving that streaked bolts of lightning across the sky. He shut his mouth, grimacing at the pain he was in and the foul taste of his own blood mixed in with that of the Rain of Gore that he was sure would corrupt his insides should he accidentally swallow it, and tried to ignore the horrible throbbing within his head because of his overwhelming fear at what had occurred so far in this battle against Rakdos and then his father, the horrific images of ultimate debaucheries and abominable vice dancing behind his open eyes as he stared up at the crackling sky that fulminated crimson lightning as well as releasing gouts of bright orange and red hellfire that erupted out of its gaping maw of angry clouds onto the City of Pleasure below, lighting up the courtyard where the Lord of Riots resided in a wan glow of flames that augmented the hot illumination of the pits of lava surrounding it. Ash fell down from the sky, mingling with the bloody droplets still falling torrentially onto Usnaan and placing a bitter taste on Caiellis's tongue, though every sensation the boy was feeling – including his pain and terror – was exacerbated by the malicious effects of the storm above and more prominently his proximity to the Archdemon that had created it and was an avatar of hedonistic destruction.

The boy placed his palms on the ground that was covered in blood, his own and that generated by and deposited from the Tempest of Craving, the hot and sticky liquid flowing between his thin and weak fingertips that only moments early had been feebly trying to pry his father's own large, metal-clad and incredibly powerful fingers from wrapping around his neck, and Cai was afflicted with another wracking sob as he came to terms with how close he had got to the death in his dad's hands that hurt his broken ribs and back and had him coughing violently by the end, his hot saliva inflected with blood coming from his throat and drooling down his face like it had done when he had been on the precipice of a death he had wanted yet had been extremely scared of. He watched as the screaming tempest above ejected several large and screeching meteorites out of its passionate depths that streaked through the sky and left contrails of fire in the after images of Caiellis's vision as he blinked to remove the tears of pain, melancholy and fear and blood that was blurring his eyesight and stinging his eyes, and felt the impact of the ones that smashed into locations nearby to the dead Protector's private mansion shaking the ground and increasing the pain he felt.

Cai could say he was in agony, which was true, but he knew that Alexander had been through much worse with the wounds he had suffered at the delicate but vindictive hands of the last vampire temptress they knew existed and that was just the physical injuries the seventeen year old had been forced to endure, as Aksua's vampiric curse had travelled through his bloodstream and made him cough up buckets of thick and viscous corrupted black lifeblood that the thirteen year old saw in some of his nightmares that taunted him with the near death of his big brother, and so if he wanted to try and prove one last time that he was at least worthy of the title of Lucaelian, if not Lucerna – as there was no possibility of that happening – then he would have to suck it up and continue on with this fight. He could have his escape from the pain soon, and would rather die in combat against the Archdemon that polluted the New Empire of Passion with its malignant presence than give up now and succumb to his wounds. Maybe then, even if he couldn't ever make Marik love him, his father might be proud of his loyalty to the cause of righteousness and his desire to help other people that had helped him and preserve the lives of innocents.

Cai started first by moving his head round in an attempt to look over at where he now sensed the hazy presence of Orzhova protecting him from any further attack from his father and, he assumed, Akroma, though his sixth sense was heavily distorted by the entrance of an Archdemon made of disruptive Red mana sadistic Black and, because of the concussion he had now identified, it was extremely painful to try and focus on his magical detection, much less use the Lenses of Innocence or Guilt for more than a second, but soon regretted the quick movements as they sent pulsing waves of pure torment resonating through his hurt body and increased the loudness of the ringing in his ears, reminding him of when he had suffered through migraines in the past – such as the worst one he had ever experienced eight days ago – although the littlest son of Marik knew that he wasn't going through one because of the fact he wasn't that confused, just incredibly scared as his heart pounded in his ears and was in his mouth. He cried out in a gasp of pain that hurt his heavily abused throat as the world began to swim, instantly stopping his actions and waiting until the pain abated and the thirteen year old would be able to move his bleeding and seemingly extremely light yet paradoxically monumentally heavy head again.

He slumped again, tears falling out of his sad green eyes that were full of fear until he closed them, almost fully exhausted and incredibly tempted to just to give up – what is the point in living if all I do is put other people in danger because of my weakness and my father, my last living parent, doesn't love me? - but with that came an adamant steel he hadn't felt since Orzhova had pulled him out of the courtyard during the Lord of Riots's explosive entrance into the city of Usnaan and they had talked in the Voidwalk, a determination to at least atone for this crime slightly fortifying his mind because of the fact he was still oxygen-starved and scared almost more than he had ever been before – Cai was just as terrified as he had been when his kind mother had been ripped apart in front of his young eyes and there had been nothing his pathetic self had done about it until she had died, the moment that had defined his entire life of being a burden to others and having his loved ones torn away from him because of his worthlessness that his father had informed him of.

Caiellis tried again, opening his eyes for a second time and ignoring the blurriness of his vision that came with the feeling of light-headedness at suddenly being able to breathe again after almost being choked to death, moving his head slower this time so that it didn't hurt as much and pushing his hands on the ground, the sweaty and hot palms almost slipping on the gore on the cracked and heated stone, something that would have sent him toppling over and put a stop to his recovery, his breaths coming in short and sharp wheezes as the numbness he had felt as his body had shut down due to the lack of oxygen within it caused by the constricting hands of the angry Marik dissipating completely as painful sensation returned to him, and he would have smiled wryly if he could manage any other expression than a grimace of pain and mournfulness as he couldn't even recall all of the wounds he had suffered since first fighting against Tradax in what seemed like months but was less than half an hour ago – which, coupled with his forced second Summoning of Orzhova, did not bode well for his current situation – and he repressed a yelp of agony as he shifted his ribs.

That was before imperious golden-white mana that didn't heal because of the disastrous consequences that would entail due to the rejuvenation preventing effects of the unholy Rain of Gore wrapped around his limbs, and while it did little to sooth his pain – even forcing him to stifle a shout when coils surrounded his broken ribs – the boy knew that it would help him with his goal of standing up and then continuing in his fight with the Lord of Riots, perhaps even helping his father if the man- right, get that ridiculous notion out of your head now you idiot. There is no way that dad, who has just tried to kill me and almost succeeded in his task because of how shamefully weak I am, will permit me to fight by his side against the Archdemon, so stop thinking that now. You know that he hates you, and rightly so, because you caused his wife to die and are now stopping him from taking care of your much more deserving of his help and love older brother, and I don't understand why some part of me keeps thinking that there is a small possibility he will aid me, because there isn't.

I don't deserve anyone's help, that much I've already established, because I am just a weak, frightened and scared little boy that is trying (and horribly failing) to be an adult and emulating the rest of his family and who isn't strong enough to protect himself and forces other people to do it instead, who end up getting hurt because of it. No matter what I have tried – whether it be constantly rebelling and defying, or trying to act as the perfect son and silently obeying all the orders that come at me without objection – it has always just ended the same: in failure. I can't do anything worth me continuing to live, and it has forever been that way, but maybe I will be able to help before I die.

That's all I want now. Just to help, to try and repent for my failures so that most of all Alexander can be safer and have a happy life, and maybe that Marik can be happy as well, though if I'm honest I don't really care that much about him at all. I mean, how could I? He threw me across the courtyard, broke my ribs and burst my head open, hit me in the face and lifted me off my feet and choked the life out of me, and all of these things are exactly the opposite of the perfect father I had imagined in the civil war. But in the end, all of our arguing, all of our disputes over strategy as well as personal issues relating to our fractured relationship and both our failures to help my brother, has led to this, this fight in front of the laughing Rakdos who is clearly the greater threat and needs to be dealt with first, no matter that I know that my life is pointless and dad would rather end it sooner than later, and I refuse to let the Lord of Riots exist for longer in this world than I will.

I refuse to let other people have to deal with my mistakes, and if that means immobilising dad because he won't stop trying to kill me then so be it. Fear and determination warred for supremacy within the young boy's mind, who marvelled that his brain hadn't simply shut down because of the amount of emotional stress it had gone through and the conflicting thoughts that had battled for dominance over the last month as his hope had been crushed and rekindled almost too many times to count.

Even though he knew it was extremely selfish to everyone else, Caiellis had often wished that they were still within the civil war, that he hadn't met with his and Alex's dad after nine years of wishing to do so and imagining it as the perfect point in his mind (although his sibling had seemed to realise (having progressed out of his childhood naïvety whereas his little brother was still stuck within it) that it could never be as fantastic as the image they had cultivated, just hadn't had the heart to dispel Cai's foolish dreams of a flawless parent that had been looking forward to seeing them just as they were emboldened by the possibility of meeting him again), that it was just the four of them (Cai, his brother and his two "Uncles") relying on each other again, but each time he thought it he reminded himself how much happier everyone else was now that the civil war had ended, and that he should be incredibly grateful that it had and he had survived. At any rate, there was no time to think about that now, and he had to focus on what was important.

Which was the damned Archdemon that had caused this entire war and the arguments between him and his dad in the first place, the focal point of all of his hatred apart from the darkness that was reserved solely for Johnias (and to a lesser extent those that had betrayed the Kingdom of Light with him, enticed by the promise of power from the abyss) and that he had no idea if he was strong enough to beat or not (haha. Very funny), but the teenager would be damned if he didn't try and remove the stain of its presence that, in his laxity and premature thoughts of victory, he had allowed to gain a foothold in reality because of the fact he had been the only one that could have stopped it. Dad was right. I could have at least succeeded when I made them all worry by rushing to the middle of Usnaan alone. And this is my last chance to do so.

Caiellis forced himself to calm down, trying to block out the screaming and terrified voice that he knew belonged to him in his mind as it whimpered in emotional pain and shrieked in a child's fear at the presence of a scary demon and the betrayal of the trust that he had stupidly placed within his dad to save him from the Lord of Riots, and the tears rushing out of his eyes dried up, though his wide and apparently adorable green orbs were still wet with stinging tears as he slowly pushed at the ground, glad that his arms and legs weren't that wounded.

He would have snorted derisively at how pathetic he was being, as in essence he hadn't been injured that badly over the course of the battle, and when Alexander had been badly hurt – much worse than the eldest prince's brother was now – he had done everything in his power to comfort a scared Cai who was in the process of rightfully blaming himself for his big brother's fate, and it was with thoughts of Alex in his mind he gripped the ground hard, cutting his fingers on the shredded ground and the jagged rubble that had tumbled from the destabilised wall, but he didn't care and pushed on to it, trying desperately to get to his feet as he was confronted with one of his more recent memories of the battle for Fort Egetau the day previous to yesterday when he had been knocked unconscious by a Red mana explosive and had his legs burnt painfully, unable to stand up despite his uncaring and stony dad's insistence and urging. He refused to have a repeat of that, one of his many failures in attempting to be a Lucerna, and bit his lip hard as his ribs screamed at him because of the movement as he forced himself upright, possessed of a determination that would have been praised had this been any other situation, and ignored the wave of exhaustion that threatened to halt this endeavour to stand back up and face the Defiler once again in his tracks.

Despite the fact that Caiellis felt it had been hours since his father had been crushing his windpipe with his gauntleted hands against the wall he was using for support now, it had been just less than forty seconds ago and by all means he was still suffering from the effects of the oxygen deprivation that had almost killed him and would have caused permanent brain damage if it hadn't and Orzhova hadn't come to his aid as quickly as she had.

He felt light-headed, his body ached with pain in numerous locations but most prominently from his ribs, split head and (slightly less) his throat as breathing hurt the first and the last as well as exacerbating the concussive effects of the second, and because of the Rain of Gore he couldn't heal any of it, though the enchantments his kind angel who for some reason believed in him and thought he was special had blessed him with were helping out greatly and reducing the pain from moving, as well as the shining respirator that was surrounding his mouth once again now that the silencing mana of his dad and supreme monarch had been removed purifying the air so that he could breathe easier without having to ingest too much of the ash when he had gasped almost convulsively for air after having been dropped.

Caiellis pushed past the pain, knowing that this was what his brother would do and that the quicker he ended the threat of the demon, the quicker Alexander would be out of danger (if I haven't caused his death already...) and the less likely he would be injured or hurt, and surged to his feet with the fortifying mana accommodating his movements and moulding around him like a full set of crystalline armour that shimmered in the flashing and blaring lights of the Tempest of Craving that hurt his eyes and reminded him of the headache he had suffered after first laying eyes on the City of Pleasure during the abduction that had been his fault and that he had been in the throes of recovering from a lack of air then as well because of Arendus Draal that would be fighting against the Lucaelians now (or hopefully dead), just these dangerously individualistic and hedonistic flashes were the product of demonic and sacrilegious magic instead of machines that used mana to power them.

The small and frail boy that was not yet five feet tall scrambled to his feet through his adamant will to succeed with at least one thing worthy of merit in his life, his head pounding and ringing as if it was attempting to distract him and force him to submit to the pain and let the tears that were retained in an endless and eternal reservoir of sadness and despair that could pour out of his eyes at any moment despite the fact that the amount that had done already could provide water for a whole Lucaelian metropolis drown him in their cold embrace, and his vision spinning with the sudden change in altitude (as, contrary to his earlier thoughts, he had decided not to take it slowly and complete the task as soon as possible and ride through the pain) that almost had him staggering over and falling flat on his face the second he stood up, which would not have been nice on his head and broken ribs, before a slender yet extremely strong and restraining hand held him upright and prevented him from falling. Caiellis couldn't suppress a yelp of pain that slipped through his bloodied and split lips at the touch that was intended to be gentle, although it was more due to the fact that his body decided that now was a good time to put him under even more pain as circles of light and shadow spun behind his eyes in tandem with the vibrantly disgusting images that he had seen ever since Rakdos entered reality and had caused a constant pain in his young mind that he had ignored and had been overrun by other emotions and thoughts because of his dad arriving and almost immediately starting to kill him.

The first thing that he heard when the ringing in his head dissipated slightly, receding to tolerable levels that would allow him to hear other things, was the cacophonous rumbling of the Tempest of Craving combined with the sound of crackling lightning, booming thunder, screaming meteorites of hellfire as they howled through the darkened sky, cries of ultimate pleasure and sounds of the most debased indulgence and excess combined with the agonising deaths of thousands of weak innocents, but after that he could hear his own heavy, almost sobbing breathing, and could feel the saturation of three types of mana – White, Black and Red – in the air around him.

"I half expected you to stay down after that and just give up, you damn disappointment of a son," a voice that had last been heard by him when it was whispered in his ear just as he was about to be throttled into unconsciousness spoke from a few metres away, full of hatred and barely repressed anger like his father had managed to push it back inside of him now that his son wasn't close to him and he didn't have chance to unleash it upon the boy right at this moment, as if he was saving it for another chance to attempt to kill his youngest son once again, and Caiellis looked past the angel that he could now see was stood protectively in front of him who had let go of him with her hand and spun back around before he could thank her or look into her eyes, though the boy could sense the darkness swirling within the Angel of the Black Sun rising to the fore through her flawless skin and felt some of the magisterial awe and terror he had experienced when meeting her and Summoning her for the first few times, although it was still eclipsed by his fear and sadness.

The man snorted, stood only a few metres away with him, and crossed his arms with his Lucerna greatsword pointing into the ground, evidently having retrieved it in the time it took for Caiellis to recover from his strangulation, although underneath the disdain and the contempt the man was trembling with barely suppressed anger that seeped through his entire being and make the imposing man shake with the force of it, and aloft next to him was the Angel of Wrath that Cai almost gulped to see but pre-emptively stopped himself from doing so because he knew that it would only make his throat hurt further and ideally he wanted to avoid that, wishing that the Rain of Gore wasn't active so that he could repair some of the least significant wounds and not have to deal with them while he fought, but then again if he was going to be wishing for things then there was a lot he would prefer to have instead of being able to heal himself.

One part of him still felt the almost primal and instinctual desire to have Alex here so that they could face this threat together like they were apparently (according to the older adolescent, although the youngest Lucerna knew that while Alexander trusted his little brother to back him up in confrontations the eldest prince would much prefer Caiellis to be away from the fighting so that there was no chance of the weaker thirteen year old being damaged), but the rest of him knew that if his older brother and best friend was there with him then there would be a very high chance of the blonde getting hurt as he threw himself in front of blows intended for his sibling in order to protect his physically (and mentally) weak brother from any harm that would affect his fragile form much more than it would Alex's toned physique that was usually filled with youthful energy that barely ever failed to make Cai happy.

"But then again, it is typical of you to take every opportunity you can to do the exact opposite of what I expected of you and to disobey me at every turn," the man continued, his voice as relatively austere and stony as it usually was, and if his vaguely normal tones didn't belie a hint of anger that Caiellis's life had been taken out of his grasp and that his youngest son had survived to bother him further then the boy would half believe that his father was utterly unconcerned by the turn of events, like choking your son half into unconsciousness was just a generic routine that he had gone over millions of times and didn't require his attention any more than remembering to eat did, though it was the fury present underneath the cold and dispassionate voice reminiscent of how they had first spoken after nine years when Marik had been informed that his second born hadn't yet passed his Summoning trial despite being the age of thirteen and having started his teenage years and when his dad had attempted to stay calm during some of their arguments, an endeavour which inevitably always failed, that scared him.

For all the boy might profess that he didn't want to live any longer and that he wanted to leave this world that was full of pain and failure as he, the square key, was rammed into the circular hole built for a Lucerna again and again and again with potentially cataclysmic consequences for everyone involved, he was utterly terrified of having his dad place his large hands around his son's throat for a third time, as he knew that if it happened then there would be no way he would survive and that his dad wouldn't make the same mistake of not snapping his neck almost immediately and ensuring that he died instead of revelling in his pathetic and feeble struggling to remove the obstruction to his breathing in a way that seemed uncharacteristic for the king of Lucael but aptly emphasised how much he hated his youngest son. If he was to die at his father's hands, he would much rather it be by a bolt of incinerating holy light, or to be impaled or decapitated by the gigantic broadsword he wielded – a quick death, not one accompanied by the thoughts of desperation and fear as his last reserves of air seemingly slowly but in actual fact quickly gave out as he tried frantically to breathe.

Caiellis tried not to shudder in fear at the thought of going through that for a second time on this day, as he had barely recovered from the first and his mind was in a state of heightened adrenaline – both from the sense (apart from his magical one, as it simply disrupted and confused that) enhancing effects of the Tempest of Craving most likely meant to allow those underneath it to relish the ultimate sensations and augmented experiences they were undergoing, and the fear and terror as well as his hatred of demons that made his small (and in the minds of others, courageous, though Caiellis would never think that about himself) heart beat ever faster – that would mean he would be extremely exhausted when it ran out and he couldn't sustain Orzhova any longer, and the only reason he hadn't yet collapsed and given into the pull of blessed unconsciousness at the back of his mind was because he was in an adrenalized state, and when that ended he would definitely fall into some form of sleep, whether it be one that he engendered himself to free himself from all this pain and free others from the detrimental responsibility of caring for him or one fuelled by his utter bone tiredness.

"Do not speak to him!" Orzhova snarled back at the king, her voice full of more hatred than Caiellis had ever heard from it before, which was surprising considering they had spoken with Archdemons, the manifestations of vile sin itself and the highest order of power within the darkness (known to mankind, at any rate) that surrounded the Kingdom of Light and the land known as Lucael, though Cai sensed that this was a different type of detestation than the semi-righteous (as the Angel of the Black Sun was dissimilar to her other sisters in that respect, her desire to kill the demons derived more from her hatred of them than any particular loyalty to protect the things that they destroyed or threatened – in Caiellis's point of view, at any rate) she reserved for the demonic denizens of Sancturia – this was the hatred of traitors that he had felt himself, which was in itself quite ironic considering her past, but this was more the loathing for those that broke bonds of family and endangered things that she loved, a variation of his own all encompassing fear at having his father turn on him then.

A sudden thought occurred to the small boy, who was incredibly grateful for the auras clothing his fragile and damaged body that allowed him to stand, as he wasn't entirely sure how Orzhova had got to him to protect him from the king of Lucael because of the fact he had been half-conscious and dying at the time – Cai assumed that she had initiated some form of Voidwalk and had been able to pull it off without the influence of the (vaguely attention seeking in the thirteen year old's opinion, although his fear of the being far outweighed his desire to make fun of it, which reminded him of his older brother – Alexander had always used to make jokes or insult their opponents when they were fighting (sometimes when they were sparring against each other as well) malicious residents of Sancturia in the civil war, but Cai sensed that he had done it to make his little brother feel less scared and to allow him to place more trust in his sibling, as if he was joking like they would in a normal situation then Caiellis would feel more comfortable – not that he ever became at ease) void demon that seemed to enjoy taunting him and making him feel small and weak, which was true, but if the dark seraphim had been fighting Akroma as Cai had seen, there would have been little chance for her to rush through the abyss to her Summoner's side with the Angel of Wrath assaulting her relentlessly.

However, at the current moment in time the youngest prince knew that there was little time for a chat about how his angel had saved him from a death he had earned, as he was aware that because of his father's fighting style logic dictated that Marik wouldn't leave long for his smallest son to recover from his near death ordeal and press his attack further, and was only delaying slightly so that he could get ready to launch his next assault with the angry looking Angel of Wrath by his side that Caiellis did not look forward to fighting at all, though he knew that he would rather die at her hand than because of his father due to the fact that she was an angel of the highest order and as such wouldn't make his death painful because she didn't care about him as a person and simply hated the Angel of the Black Sun that was inside of them.

He retrieved the magical artefact armament that laid still a few metres away, glad that his father hadn't been able to stop him from getting it back this time and hadn't taken it himself, and when he gripped the hilt of the blade in his trembling and thin hand that was lacerated with numerous cuts from the ground that made it painful to hold things – though there was much more torment going on elsewhere in his fragile body, which made it easy to ignore to more minor wounds he had suffered – he was reminded of a time less than two weeks ago when his dad had finally interacted with him nicely after the end of the civil war and proceeding his family's discovery of the self harming he had enacted so that he could cope with the pressure of not passing the Summoning trial that he had attempted every single day on his own, and it just made him feel even sadder that despite his dad never wanting a second child in the first place, he had still occasionally acted pleasantly towards Cai and the boy had just spurned it, although Caiellis knew that it wasn't his fault for all of their arguments – well, it was, but at the time he hadn't thought that, and with that realisation came more internal pain.

Even though his father had tried – he remembered the two times they had talked over the personal mana communicator that had involved the king of Lucael praising him for things that he had done, which must have been incredibly hard for someone that didn't want their last son – Cai had always pushed him away and argued with him instead, acting like the pathetic and petty little boy that he was that didn't deserve the effort other people put into him because he was just a failure – how else could a father countenance choking their youngest son to death other than hating him as much as an enemy that they would happily kill?

Caiellis had never been blessed with a particularly high self esteem because of the fact that the closest person in age to him that he had to train with in the civil war was four years older than him and as such the smaller and more fragile Cai had always compared himself unfavourably to Alexander, and it certainly didn't help that the people that didn't know the two that well did the same and measured the Lucerna brothers alongside each other, but now the confidence in himself had been steadily dipping ever since that day thirteen days ago when his self harming had been revealed after everything that had occurred, and was now at an all time low after rising slightly when he had initiated the Voidwalk that had lead him into the Protector's private residence and allowed him to kill the most likely self-styled Archlord of Rapture, his father's words having utterly crushed the tiny semblance of a stunted and fledgling ego that he slowly developed into millions of tiny pieces that the boy knew would never be repaired.

Then the youngest Lucerna saw something odd in the way that his father appeared. Now that the man wasn't trying to kill him (in or the process of stopping him from living) and wasn't slamming him up against a wall with a strength that far outmatched anything his littlest son could muster in response, he could see clearly that Marik was breathing very laboriously and heavily, probably due to the ash laden and corrupted air that he had no protection from, and two quite large holes in his stomach that he must have sustained coming here to clean up after his second child's awful and potentially deadly for the entire Lucaelian force mistakes, the wounds bleeding out over his armour and combined with several others, but without being able to employ any form of healing the injuries in the man's lower abdomen could be fatal if they were left untended to for a while – despite the fact that he was an exalted Lucerna.

Caiellis cursed inside. His father was far more injured than his son was, as while broken ribs and a bleeding head weren't exactly pleasant occurrences the wounds in Marik's stomach area were quite bad and his heavy breathing suggested that they were in fact worse than they looked, but of course Cai hadn't noticed and had been too swept up in his own misery of having the man he had thought would finally provide some form of protection against the primal terror of the Lord of Riots, not that his dad had let the injuries prevent him from almost squeezing the life from his son either. Cai was pretty sure that in his frantic and desperate thrashing to try and somehow have the king removed his hands from where they were clamped firmly (though the word "firmly" was a significant understatement in this case and didn't do justice to the strength that the man was using to try and throttle his youngest potential heir to the Lucerna throne) around his windpipe he had kicked the holes in his dad's armour, but that wouldn't have – and hadn't, without the aid of Orzhova -stopped the eldest Lucerna from killing the young adolescent.

It was a testament to how powerful his and Alex' father was that he was still standing with the amount of blood he had lost, much less looking completely unaffected by the wounds that must have been accentuated by his movements, but the youngster knew that there was no way the forty year old would be able to contend against the destructive power of the Defiler in the state that he was in – not that Caiellis was sure that he would be able to either, as while he wasn't as physically hurt as his dad he was aware that he didn't have that much mana left to battle his father with, much less banish a godlike Archdemon from the mortal plane all alone (as it had been established that there was no way Marik and Caiellis would be working together), and Cai knew that if he died and then Marik took on the Lord of Riots then Alexander (assuming he still survived) would be the last Lucerna left in the world of man.

That meant that, as was right because he had been the only one that could have stopped the unholy Summoning of the Archdemon and failed shamefully in doing so, Cai was the only one that could take down Rakdos and save the Lucaelian force, and as such if Marik was to survive – as Caiellis didn't want to leave Alex without any family members and knew that there was no way (physically or mentally) he would be able to kill their father – he would have to incapacitate the man in such a way as to not hurt him, maybe with a spell that would end if he died so that if he did get killed by the Lord of Riots the monarch of the Kingdom of Light would be able to finish the job and hopefully capitalise upon the wounds he may have created with his sacrifice. Despite what his dad had done to him, Caiellis didn't feel anger towards him, he didn't feel anything apart from a sense of self worthlessness and pain that ran soul deep that could never be erased apart from by one thing, one thing that he had earned already but that could wait until after he dealt with the problems he had created. He could have cried forever, but that wouldn't accomplish anything, and he had to do something right for once in his life.

"And who are you to tell me who I can and cannot speak to?! Caiellis is my responsibility (the boy noted how the man didn't say "son" like he would have done at any other instance) and he belongs to me!" the king snarled back at the terrifying Angel of the Black Sun, not worried at all by the fact that the seraph's onyx eyes had become two of the darkest things he had ever seen in his life and that black and purple lightning seething with hatred was coruscating along her entire heavenly body of light and shadow, her eyes no longer glinting with the holy and imperious luminescence that usually tinted them and suffused utterly in shining darklight that covered her entire form in a sheen of blinding darkness that created golden covered shadows around her and exacerbated the shade caused by the towering Rakdos who watched with entertained and flaming eyes at the spectacle.

Orzhova knew that she was using up the last remnants of her young Summoner's mana pool quite quickly in the display of channelling mana ready for her wrathful opponents to rush her. She didn't care. The Angel of the Black Sun was furious; what sort of father could ever do that to their own child?! She had seen her precious and delicate boy Summoner in the hands of his dad and the host of the hated Angel of Wrath that was being far more emotional than usual, his pale cheeks streaked with blood and tears as they started going red and purple as he gasped for air, progressing into a shade of choked blue that still coloured the youngster's gaunt and young features and lips (where they weren't split from the abuse Marik had heaped upon his youthful form) and then finally simply pale and coloured with the strangled form of the former colour as he had almost slipped into a sleep he would never have awoken from if Orzhova hadn't had anything to do about it.

She had gradually become more and more desperate the longer that she had been fighting with Akroma and watching Marik throwing his youngest son and the second Summoner she had ever been able to choose around the courtyard and slamming him into the wall that he had almost died against, but had not been able to help as she was forced to concentrate upon the quite drastic issue of preventing her almost frothing at the mouth sister splitting her apart with the overly gigantic Blade of Wrath.

Orzhova had got increasingly frantic and therefore distracted as the king of Lucael that thirteen years ago she had respected because she thought he had loved his son more than anything but his four year old and his wife (the Angel of the Black Sun suspected dark powers at work in the potential manipulation of Marik, but couldn't be certain and if there was something involved it was beyond her extremely powerful sense of Guilt that was admittedly very distorted and confused by the presence of a hellish member of the Archdemonic Brotherhood of Seven – she also didn't want to lie to or misinform her Summoner about it and get his hopes up), but, conforming with what she had seen of him through the eyes of her Summoner, Marik had changed drastically in the civil war after the murder of the queen and Caiellis's mother, pushed her thirteen year old host up against the last remaining infrastructure of Redhand's mansion and then started choking the life from him.

Orzhova had fought tooth and nail to get Akroma away from her so that she could come to the aid of her asphyxiating and dying Summoner who was desperately pulling on his father's crushing hands that were wrapped around his throat, but she throughout the entire fight she hadn't managed to push the Angel of Wrath away and tear a hole in reality then step away into the abyss and returned to Caiellis's side, but the thing that had done it was when the Black Sun on the boy's cheek reacted in a way that she had never seen before through the mix of tears and blood pouring onto it, allowing her to turn herself into incandescent darklight and pulse out of the birthmark, defending the small and helpless boy with her powerful magic and pushing the sovereign of the Kingdom of Light away from him, reforming herself out of rays of shining darkness that allowed her to protect him and give the boy time to recover, which Cai had done so admirably despite the pain he was obviously in and the deep sadness within his eyes that appealed to the softer side of the dark angel and made her heart ache in empathetic pain for the one month teenager.

She once again wished that the final stage of the Tempest of Craving and the presence of the Lord of Riots wasn't preventing her from hearing her Summoner's thoughts and stopping her from talking to him, as while she knew that he would be immensely sad Orzhova couldn't hear what Marik had said to his son while he had the tiny boy at his mercy, and she desperately wanted some glimpse into how emotionally hurt he was and how that would impact upon the fight. Orzhova would like to say that she sensed darker powers at work with the Angel of Wrath and her male Summoner turning on them instead of allying with them – as it should be – and battling together against the greater threat of the Archdemon, but she knew that Rakdos wasn't manipulating the two to his own ends and she could well believe Akroma using this chance to remove her from the material world and then turning on the Archdemon, as even if the Angel of Wrath had attacked her without her Summoner being in danger Orzhova would have simply retreated back inside of his Mind Realm and remained there.

"How dare you treat Caiellis like he is some sort of burden, like he is your toy that you can just throw around and abuse!" the angel shouted back at the man, her choler risen at the mistreatment that Marik had shown to her defeated looking young Summoner who had at least stopped crying for now, blinking his eyes fully free of the tears and staring fearfully at the one that had almost killed him yet was related to him in the most direct way possible, and it was Akroma who responded, cutting in front of Marik's opening of his mouth as he snarled darkly at his son's traitorous angel, his eyes full of hatred directed against Caiellis that roused Orzhova's protective instinct that she barely ever felt (especially now that Serenity was dead) as the Angel of Wrath yelled, her heavenly voice infused with an otherworldly resonance combined with fury as well as abhorrence, "And how dare you show yourself in the material plane again without submitting to your punishment in the Sanctum Angelica, Orzhova! How dare you choose a Summoner without the express permission of our divine mother, and how dare you talk about protecting the boy who's life you doomed from the onset by forcing him to become your host!"

Orzhova fell silent for a moment, her eyes opening wide at what had just been said as more than a little guilt worked its way through her mind because she knew how hard her Summoner's life was because of his intrinsic Black mana that was abhorred within the Kingdom of Light due to what it had done over the millennia (and two centuries) the nation had been formed and existed relatively prosperously because of the blessings of the First Sisterhood angels belonging to the Lucerna line. Caiellis tried to speak, intending to refute Akroma's claim and add his own thoughts to the discussion, as speaking to his dad despite the fact that there was little to no chance of it accomplishing anything was something that he wanted to try before he enacted his plan of removing his father out of the way without hurting or killing him and then attempt to deal with the smiling Archdemon, but all that came out was a cough that hurt his throat and brought more tears to his eyes as he tried to form words, a hacking sound that would have concerned him a dramatic amount had he been in any other state of mind erupting from his mouth as he was forced to bend almost double, his vision blurring as he tried to control it and felt sticky blood being coughed up from his mouth before he wiped it away and shakily returned to his former upright position.

Marik glared at him for a second, another cold sneer of expected disappointment, as if he fully anticipated his youngest child acting as pathetic as he was now and as such didn't have any of his hopes dashed, etching itself across his hard and stony features, though his blue eyes still transfixed Caiellis in place and made him almost desperately wish that he could somehow avoid fighting him again and fleeing from the possibility of more pain and agony, but he soon told himself that that was just his fear talking and that there was no way to get past this without incapacitating his dad and then battling with the much more terrifying but less emotionally scarring Lord of Riots (who for now at least was very interested and entertained by the fight and as such hadn't decided to intervene and tear the participants apart yet – Cai would have to twist that arrogance to his advantage if he was ever to win against such a powerful being), and that if he let other people clean up his failures again then he would be more pathetic than even he thought that he was.

"I will treat Caiellis how I damn well want to," the man coldly but forcefully told the Angel of the Black Sun, the words suffused with malice and each syllable dripping with the intent to repeat the actions he had performed earlier, and the way he said seemed to Cai like he was dismissing Orzhova's concerns and informing the seraph that this was between father and son and that she, a denizen of the heavenly domain within Sancturia, should stay out of the violent proceedings, and then he laughed, the sound scaring Caiellis to the core, although the anger present in the false mirth frightened the small boy more, the fury that Marik had erupted with only a minute or so earlier that had lead to Cai almost dying before atoning for his mistakes bottled back up within him but slowly leaking out of him, ready for him to explode in rage and hatred once again when he could attack his son once more, chuckling without humour or parental pleasantry, "In fact, in spite of what Akroma may think, I like the fact that you are that worthless brat that dares to call himself my son's Summoning, because it means that no one will miss him and you when you are gone, Orzhova. Prince Caiellis died in combat against the Archdemon in the centre of the City of Pleasure! How does that sound to you?"

Orzhova saw the boy stood behind her flinch out of the corner of her peripheral vision, still hurt by the stinging and insulting words thrown almost casually out by his father in spite of the high frequency of them from what the Angel of the Black Sun could gather, but before she could ruminate upon a reply that would both offer comfort to her Summoner and dispute his father's horrible words, the Angel of Wrath launched herself at her younger sister, the titanic blade in her hands thrumming with White mana that crashed through the air in its release as Orzhova deflected it with her golden scythe.

Despite not wanting to return to the almost fatal combatant arrangement of earlier, the Angel of the Black Sun knew that in his current state there was no way little Cai would be able to contend against the might of Akroma whilst he may still stand a chance against his powerful father because of the fact Orzhova was at his side supporting him – as she refused to be driven away again and would happily throw herself in front of blows aimed at her Summoner now that she was back next to him, and she supposed that because Marik was Caiellis's father it was how choice how to deal with him, whether he wanted to kill the man (which was very doubtful as the boy was very compassionate and had a gentle heart that he often tried to lock away so that he could better perform as a Lucerna) or simply to remove him as an obstruction from fighting the Lord of Riots that Orzhova ideally would have liked to avoid battling against with just the two of them, though it was extremely unlikely that any of the other Lucaelians fighting their way through Usnaan to get to the Hedonist's Quarter would manage to reach here (as it was representative of how strong the duo of the king and his Angel of Wrath was that they had been able to get to the Summoning location of the Defiler, even though that in turn made it even harder for them to defeat it instead of aiding them with the already monumental task) – because if it was up to her then the dark seraphim would be hacking the man apart with her scythe because of what he had done to her Summoner.

"Dad … why?" was all Caiellis could force out of his mouth, his voice extremely shaky after the ordeal that had only occurred approximately a minute or so ago, and the tone was brimming with sadness and despair that Orzhova hated to hear as she blocked another strike on the shadowy haft of her scythe. The man snorted back, hefting his huge broadsword and ignoring the blood spilling out of his lower abdomen and cascading down his armour because of the movement, prompting Cai to think of how immune to pain his father seemed to be and how much of an asset the man would have been on his side in the greater and much more important fight against the demon, and Caiellis knew that while his question was pretty stupid and that he had already had the reasons explained to him (well, shouted in my ear), but he wanted to make sure that this course of action was correct one last time before enacting it as the man growled derisively, "You know full well why, you stupid little shit. You caused the death of my perfect wife and endangered my perfect son, and that is why you are going to pay! I never want to hear your voice or see you again!"

The man was fuming once again, the anger that he had at his disposal to direct against his youngest child saturating his tone again despite the fact that he had obviously attempted to pull it inside of himself for a while whilst the Angel of the Black Sun defended the boy and he had thought that Caiellis was going to die, a fresh supply of rage fuelled by the kid's escape from death shooting through him and infusing him with fresh strength as Cai's new sense of purpose did the same to him, allowing him to focus his mana much more than solely his fear, terror and mortified despair had done, his determination mixing with his sadness and sheer disappointment and interacting with his mana as it flowed around him, though he kept a metaphorical eye on how much he had left and how much he had to expend against his heavily wounded father now – although if it came to it he didn't have the advantage of time and the late game on his side now, and not just because of the removal of his draining magic that was almost essential for victory to be achieved – it was because despite his dad bleeding out (though he wasn't the only one dripping with blood that belonged to them and Cai wasn't sure if his more fragile body could last as long in spite of the lesser severity of his own wounds), Marik could sustain Akroma far longer than he could allow Orzhova to remain out of the Mind Realm through his own mana.

He made sure to fortify his perception of things with White mana so that his concussion combined with the effects of recovering from a near deadly stretch of oxygen deprivation didn't distort his vision whilst he was fighting as the ringing in his ears receded to tolerable levels so that he could hear the sounds of the battle around him, the crystalline auras surrounding him and allowing him to stand instead of forcing his frail and weak self to capitulate to his wounds as the Sword of Glass lit up with shining White mana and dripped with shadowy tenebrosity. He knew what he wanted to do in this fight, whereas before he couldn't process the notion of his dad betraying him and suddenly turning to try and kill him, and while it could be said that Cai was more confident now and less affected by the awful words and accusations they cut precisely as deeply as before, he was just more determined now and knew that the words were right so instead of trying to rail against them he simply accepted them, the boy becoming filled with a solidarity of purpose that was quite strange because of the fact he was less confident than ever but knew that there was no one else to kill the Archdemon now and that he had to rely upon himself and do so so that Alexander didn't lose both a father and a younger brother on this day.

Caiellis shook his head sadly, wondering where it had all gone wrong and why it had ended that his life would amount to this, and blocked a bolt of blinding White mana that carved through the air towards him on a scintillating shield of stained glass much like the wings he would have conjured if he wasn't so light-headed or hurt (as the Gift of Orzhova would have likely caused him to misjudge his flight patterns and end up with him crashing into something), the shining purple of the mana formed crystalline material absorbing the force of the opposing magic, though Cai wasn't able to turn it into healing that would repair his wounds.

Now that he knew that his father was attacking him and so Marik didn't have the element of surprise on his side any longer, the man was clearly more tired and his wounds were affecting him more, and he had gotten over the shock of the horrible words that had pierced into his mind and almost drowned him in a tsunami of youthful sorrow that aptly emphasised how weak he was mentally as well as physically, the youngest prince knew that he needed to keep his dad at a distance so that Marik couldn't bring his much greater physical strength to bear again, and his defence of shadowy tendrils of solid gloom that wrapped around the ubiquitous golden magical blades that lanced down from the sky in a storm of holy energy was fuelled and powered by his primal fear of being forced into the same position of a few minutes ago for the second time in one day, as well as not wanting to die by his father's hand because while the man may hate him with a passion, Caiellis thought that there was a slight possibility that he would feel guilty over it afterwards, and as such that might affect Alex's life in the future which was something the young boy wasn't willing to allow happen.

He pulsed more numbing mana through the empty (apart from the bloody droplets from the Rain of Gore and the ash) air between him and his dad, hoping that by building up layer upon layer of debilitating magic he would eventually be able to easily overcome him and send him into an unconscious state where he wouldn't be able to endanger his own life further, and was vaguely unprepared for his dad to leap through the air on wings of pure White mana, having never seen him use the technique before and wondering why he didn't if he had access to it, launching a strike from above with his sword humming with the mana placed into it, his eyes set in cold fury once again as he growled his hatred of his target. Caiellis responded by letting his desensitizing and peaceful White mana channel through the translucent crystal blade of the Sword of Glass, all the while wondering why his dad had ever wasted the time giving him the gift if he had never loved him, and brought up a shield of hindering shadows with his left hand that coated the relic weapon as he blocked, the two types of delaying mana aiding him in absorbing the force of his dad's powerful strike as he landed, cracking the abused ground with his boots and pressing into his son.

No no no! No! Don't let him get close to you! Don't let him disarm you, and don't let him get an advantage over you unless you want to be lifted off of your feet and pinned to that wall again by your throat! A frantic part of his mind shrieked at him as the two forces of White mana – one a pure representation of light and righteous wrath, while the other was more imperious yet paradoxically solemn (suggesting that it came from within Cai instead of his exalted and magisterial angel) at the same time and backed up by the force of darkness, the thirteen year old's instinctual hatred of what had made his life become so horrible (mostly focussed upon Johnias, though there were other things) mixed with his desire to see every single demon dead so that they could no threaten anyone else – clashed against each other, sending Cai's hair that was matted and slick with the constant torrent of blood from above that would send lesser warriors than hardy Lucaelians used to unnatural circumstances due to living within darkness for almost their entire lives into screaming frenzies (which was, in essence, what it had done to the Welkalite troops who were probably already insane) blowing back from his head as his dad snarled, his mouth twisting into a sneering and mad growl.

"I don't know why I ever bothered with you, boy!" the man shouted at him, although this time Cai was fully prepared for the insults and harsh words that would be coming from his dad and therefore wouldn't let him use them to create an opening against him. His heart still ached worse than any of his other wounds scattered around his small body, so to combat that he had almost closed it off completely, assuming the blank expression that had served him well over the past few weeks the few times he had been able to keep it up instead of letting the emotion swirling within him overtake him and control him, but he didn't shut off all of his feelings completely as that would have reduced the potency of the magic that he desperately needed to triumph against his wounded father that was breathing heavily and showing his strain more obviously now that there was actual resistance coming from his second child, letting the hatred of his life and of demons leak out of it to empower his Black mana whereas the desire to protect others was emboldened by his White mana and combined with the Black in a prosecution of duty above all else.

He withdrew his Sword of Glass suddenly, leaping backwards and ignoring the way his vision blurred and a horrible and shaking pound ricocheted through his skull, but before he could cast the spell he had been intending to Marik leapt after him and crashed through the shield of delaying darkness that he conjured up in an attempt to slow down his dad and create a bit of distance in between them, the purifying White mana exuded out of him making a mockery of the effects of the Black magic that Cai was using and overwhelming the White as well with the sheer amount of it, and he coughed again, his head swimming despite the enchantments that Orzhova had cast upon him that he had reinforced with his own auras more tailored to what he was going through (as, from a very young age, Caiellis had become proficient and using supportive magic and enchanting his allies because he was too young to fight with the princes' protectors (and Alex when it came down to it and the eight year old tried to protect his four year younger brother) but could still aid them in that manner and improve their combat capabilities from a distance) as he flung a bolt of scathing darklight at his dad, although it wasn't at the same killing potency had he thrown it at an enemy that needed to be killed.

Caiellis wished that he could be ruthless enough and not as weak as he was now to be harsher on his father, considering the man had lifted him off of the ground with the clear intention to kill his youngest son, and knew that if he wanted to defeat the man quicker he could have used more offensively powerful spells that he would never dream of using on other people that he loved and were innocent – though his dad didn't fall into that category (as as much as Cai wanted to deny it, he still automatically loved his father and wanted the man's affection in return because he didn't have a mother either and wanted – no, almost needed – the love of person that had helped conceive him and brought him up (despite his current professions that he had never loved his smallest boy) and his support in things, which was why it was even harder to countenance this betrayal, especially since they were in the middle of a war and as much as he didn't want to admit it Caiellis had needed emotional reassurance just as much as the physical help) – but he couldn't get his mind to hate his dad for what was happening and what he had done.

How he was feeling now was a far cry from the emotional turmoil he had experienced these past two days (and before then, but the occurrences after the liberation of Jeksaan were what had rekindled his hatred and defiant anger and the fights before that had been down to Alexander's wounding) when his rage and aversion had sky rocketed to levels higher than they ever reached before even in the most dire argument with his older brother, though when he had been choked the first time the fear had at first doused his obstinacy but then provided more fuel for it when Alexander had arrived and had to break up their final strategy dispute that had lead to them throwing themselves into Usnaan in the first place.

He wished that he could blame his dad for this, reason that it was his fault that Alex was in danger now and not Caiellis's – no, just combined with the blame that was directed to the youngest Lucerna – as Cai had always accepted the part he had played in things and become guilty and contrite because of it, but he couldn't because he couldn't muster up any emotion or feeling other than a deep sorrow that would never be erased from the core of his being, one that he had tried running from and distracting it with the presence of those that made his life worth living, but now that those people had been launched into perilous situations because of his weakness and stupidity (both in allowing himself to be captured and therefore having the brothers abducted (he still maintained that Marik and Alex should have just let him be killed and left the Scholaria Magnus safely) and by failing to prevent the entrance of Rakdos) he had nothing to stop it overwhelming him, and his dad's words were just repeating what he already knew but had never wanted to hear from anyone else.

He stayed silent, not willing to hurt his throat or to indulge his maddened father with his words, knowing that they would come out as a mixture of a sorrowful sob that would aptly show the sadness he was desperately trying not to let overcome his determination to kill the Lord of Riots as his final act, and a terrified mewl entirely unbefitting of the glorious Lucerna that he should be but had failed to become ever since his birth and selection by the reject of the First Sisterhood, although the kid didn't feel any bitterness towards Orzhova because of it any more (as that emotion had been dispelled after the first proper talk he had with her and the conversation they had had after Alexander's near death) and just wondered what the Angel of the Black Sun had seen in him – whatever it was, he must have disappointed her expectations of him, and Cai assumed that she had simply rushed to the occasion of being his Summoner because he was cursed with Black mana that had made him hated and feared by the people, albeit they would never show that in his presence and most would retreat from him under the pretence of being respectful.

"I don't know where you have got this penchant for failure, disobedience and blaming others for your mistakes and expecting them to clean up after you like you are some sort of incapable child – which I suppose you are – from, Caiellis!" the man snarled, rushing him with another flurry of sword strikes as his thrumming blade cut through the substantial shadows permeating the air between him and Cai that were thickening every second and drinking upon the boy's despair as his father's words hit him, his mana levels rising as the last vestiges of his mana pool were being dragged out of his young form, the effort of holding back his tears hurting him more than most things ever had when all he wanted to do was cry his eyes out and let someone else take control, let someone else come to help him, one part of his mind protesting that he was far too young for this and that a thirteen year old child should have to think about his foray into puberty (which had started in some areas and not in others, such as facial hair or growing taller) and the raging hormones (and attraction to girls that he hadn't exactly developed yet) it entailed instead of the fate of thousands of adults that shouldn't have to rely upon a child to take care of them, no matter how powerful and magically gifted that child was, that he should be worrying about his education and friendships instead of how best to kill demons and how to lead an army of legionaries into war, but he soon crushed its pleading underneath the cold and adamant will that he had most likely inherited from his father, not that the man would ever say that or tell him about his own experiences.

"It is not from me, and you certainly haven't inherited these qualities from your perfect mother!" Marik bellowed, the sheer volume of his shouted words amplified by the White mana suffusing the already rage steeped tone with an otherworldly and wrathful resonance as his sword crashed into the ground, Caiellis retreating back into the shifting shadows in a way that he hadn't ever done before, though the abilities he was using were coming to him naturally and he supposed that this was the result of using solely Black mana, or at least with less of an emphasis on his White for now as he focussed the colour of healing (that he couldn't use) and fortifying mana onto ensuring he was actually able to fight, although his dad's heavenly light that showed he was a Lucerna penetrated through the darkness quite easily, which meant that it was a good job he wasn't intending upon relying on them to hide and retreat within forever as he jumped back from a shining pillar of mana that his dad conjured by raising his free palm to the sky and shouting loudly, the loudness of the words coming from his father hurting Caiellis's abused and still bleeding head just as much – if not more – as the movements he was enacted were.

Had Cai ever been told about his father's and grandfather's almost constant arguing as Marik railed against nearly everything that Garius did because of the fact he had never been able to love the man as a father (and though he respected him as a king, that didn't influence his actions as much as his fear did) and as such didn't feel that he should have any authority over him despite the beatings that just served to incense the boy Marik further and make him colder like Alexander had been informed by Tybalt, Cai might have been able to figure out that his dad's current words weren't quite as representative of reality, but since he didn't he took the words to heart just like he did all of his father's awful assertions and things that one should never say to their own son.

The boy's inability to speak without hurting his throat wasn't affecting him one bit because he had expended all of his protestations and pleading with his dad before the man had forcefully cut off his air and watched him struggle with a soul burning scrutiny that defied all paternal love instincts the man might have possessed (and undeniably did when directed against his eldest son), and he had exhausted all of his begging and denying what his dad said as the man shouted threats and hissed horrible statements at him when Cai had desperately tried to refute them and get his father to come back onto his side so that he could have the tall and strong man help him.

The youngest Lucerna was glad that his mind went into a robotic and almost emotionless state of thought after he was hurt badly physically and emotionally by someone that he loved (no matter how far down one had to dig and find that love) because otherwise he knew that he would have given up the second Orzhova saved him and he had been given a second chance before the end and before his dad had choked him to death, and it meant that he could focus much more instead of bawling his eyes out and curling up into a foetal ball, clinging to the foolish and childish hope that one of his elders would fix his broken heart and repair the situation for him. He had no one to rely on but himself because of his own mistakes in abandoning the (apparent at the time, though now he knew that the former man was lying) protection of his father and big brother, and everyone else was embroiled in their own precarious battles because he was too weak to have ended the battle before it had really started in stopping the sacrilegious ascent of Rakdos.

However, he knew that after the state of mind he had developed to help combat these situations by locking up his emotions after someone hurt him (such as firstly when Marik and he had talked after nine years of not seeing each other and the forty year old had set the precedent for their subsequent interactions, and secondly the first time that the man had harmed him physically and almost crushed his arm, a wound that still hurt but was more than eclipsed by his more recent injuries, such as his throbbing head and aching lower ribs) and turning him to his survival instincts with logical thought also unimpeded by most of his emotions that would usually detract from it, similar to a big brother within his mind that would activate when the weaker and more sensitive and gentle part of his psyche got hurt and took it away from the pain so that it wouldn't be harmed any more, his emotions always resurfaced with a greater intensity than before unless the thing that had worried or harmed him made it up to him (like in some of the more recent arguments with his brother (as before he was around eleven or twelve he hadn't yet developed the technique) where the older boy had always apologised afterwards), which meant that if he couldn't sustain this type of thought for very long then he would soon be drowned under a flood of dejected tears.

Orzhova swung her scythe round into the Angel of Wrath, the hatred of these beings that would dare to harm and betray her now recovering Summoner who was definitely hiding away his emotional and soul deep pain so that he could better fight against his father, as there was no way that the king in his current maddened state would ever be able to defeat the Lord of Riots who would be fighting against the victor of the two Lucernas and their exalted First Sisterhood angels, fuelling her strikes and allowing her to take the initiative against her heavenly sibling, who blasted several lances of milky white energy at the Angel of the Black Sun. She spun her weapon in an arc of protective mana that nullified most of the magic and had them crashing to a halt upon it, but knowingly let one of the bolts through so that it could crash into her and send her tumbling backwards, her balance in the air disrupted by the thunderous mana as the Tempest of Craving roared its approval of the violence and murder enacted underneath it.

More than any notion of pretending to be weak so that she could ambush her pure and xenophobically White sister, Orzhova let one of the blasts of purifying energy hit her so that she could assess the Angel of Wrath's mental state and to make sure that the hypothesis she had come up with about her sibling's sudden rage and emotional fury reflected in her madly spinning and bloody halo that gyrated frenziedly above her blue hair stained with blood from, the symbol of her membership of the Angelic Sisterhoods that wasn't normally visible other than being a white and golden glow usually surrounding Akroma's head.

She grimaced at the pain in her lower chest as her golden armour absorbed the force of the magic, leaving it smoking as the blisteringly hot White mana impacted upon it and almost melted through the elegant protection and into her flawless pale flesh that hid underneath, but hid a smile that would have been quite unbefitting of the current situation and also not suiting her thoughts of enacting vengeance upon those that had hurt her precious Summoner that was far more affected by the words than he was letting on now as he fought against his father, as her sister capitalised upon her sibling's apparent weakness and shot forwards, the need to spill her divine blood evident in her usually inscrutable and cold eyes that had always made it hard to know what Akroma was thinking (only Serenity had ever managed that), though all of the angels had guarded thoughts so that their deceitful enemies could not manipulate them and Orzhova's usually twinkling but now utterly dark and malevolent onyx eyes were just as impenetrable as Akroma's milky orbs normally were, but now her intent to do as much violence as possible to her traitorous sister as possible was as obvious as the plan of Marik to kill his son.

However, Akroma's rush to attack her downed angelic sister was incredibly reckless but exactly what the dark seraph had predicted from the Angel of Wrath in her current way of fighting, as apparently she was now unable to restrain her anger and hatred that she had reserved for the only angel that had every betrayed holy Serra in the Sanctum Angelica who was the creator of all (well, almost all) angels, which subsequently made Orzhova think even less of her puritanical and zealous sibling that had aided the scions of the Lucerna family ever since she was the first queen's Summoning after the death of Matalis Ortus Lucerna that their mother had exclusively blessed with her aid in the darkest days of the innocent humans in the abyss as all of monsters of the night and the civilisations that had willingly used the power of the darkness (such as the Drenure and Grafnica) preyed upon those without the power to defend themselves and those who used White mana.

She was glad of Akroma's lack of foresight as it meant that she would be easier to manipulate, although the worst thing the Angel of the Black Sun could do now would be to become conceited and arrogant and assume that she had achieved victory prematurely, as while the Angel of Wrath's all consuming fury that was controlling her every action meant that she was less inclined to pursue strategy in the fight or battle cleverly, making her just as aggressive as Alexander's fanatical Aurelia that could at least restrain herself from trying to kill her twilight sister, she was just as dangerous as she ever was and potentially more so as she would be more vicious than usual against her disloyal fellow member of the First Sisterhood.

Orzhova hoped to be able to turn the battle to her advantage soon enough so that she could come to the aid of her young Summoner who was embattled against his snarling and horrible father who still had tremendous amounts of rage that he was still shaking with to expend against his little boy, as while he had recovered from his ordeal remarkably well considering he had almost been asphyxiated, had at least two of his ribs broken and had the back of his head split open and dripping blood down his back the boy still needed her aid and was fighting against a man over a foot and a half taller than him that was at least three times his physical strength, though the Angel of the Black Sun sensed a type of magic she hadn't sensed from her Summoner before coming from the child, although he wasn't releasing it against his father – if Orzhova had been in the same situation she would have had no compunctions about blasting him apart for what he had done to Caiellis over the last few days, but if her Summoner was willing to forgive and simply wanted to end this conflict by incapacitating his dad then she wasn't going to disobey his orders despite the fact that she thought Marik's continued existence could be immensely detrimental to the boy's future if the man didn't change at all.

"Are you even listening to me, you damn ignorant brat?!" the man growled angrily, crashing his left foot into the ground as a shockwave of White mana rose up out of it all around him with a thunderous discharge of wrathful mana and dispelled the darkness that was making it hard to hit his son, and if Cai thought that he might get used to the insults coming from his father he would be sorely mistaken and disappointed, as in spite of their frequency each one hurt precisely the same – if not worse than (though one thing that Marik had said was the worst so far) – the last, as he tried to conjure up a shield of glass surrounding the area underneath him so that he would be protected from the blast that his father had just thrown in his direction (or mire accurately in every direction) before it shattered apart almost immediately, his dad's magical potency terrifying to behold despite the fact that he was clearly wounded – and unbeknownst to Caiellis holding back through no fault of the director of his current modus operandi of killing his youngest son, preventing him from utilising his most powerful spells in the prosecution of that awful task.

Nonetheless, when the White mana blasted into him it sent juddering waves of kinetic force throughout the boy's fragile body, jarring ribs and sending him falling to his knees as he began to breathe heavily in an attempt to push through the pain, as while it may seem that he had recovered well from his ordeal at the hands of the supreme sovereign of Lucael that was only if he didn't sustain any more wounds or damage, as anything remotely harmful that was inflicted upon him would be severely exacerbated by his prior injuries – just like what was happening with this shockwave of light that juddered through him and jolted his wounded ribs as his hand went to his mouth, more blood coughed up out of him as his dad advanced, though this time he refused to become a victim again and his instincts began to scream into overdrive, mana rushing through him in response to his sudden surge of desperation as he launched himself at his father, the Sword of Glass whipping through the air and leaving contrails of light and shadow behind it as it crashed into his father's swiftly prepared block, magic coursing through both their bloodstreams at a greater intensity despite the boy's face remaining blank, though his eyes still reflected his pain and sadness in spite of the fact he tried to keep them blank as not to incense his dad further, as he really didn't blame the man for his hatred of his son any more.

"Trying to act all resolute and determined now, are we Caiellis?!" the monarch snorted derisively and mockingly at his son's sudden change in tactics from all out defence to all out offence but ready to take advantage of it as he used his much greater physical strength to grind his larger weapon against his son's crystalline blade in an attempt to either force to boy to withdraw and therefore fall prey to a retaliatory strike, disarm him and then finish him off or completely overpower him and carve into his fragile form as Cai struggled against the weight and power directed against him, the only reason he hadn't been smashed backwards yet the powerful magic that was augmenting his strength and discreetly sapping his father's as the man mocked, "It is a bit late for that now, don't you think?! Where was that strength when you were watching your mother be ripped apart in front of your eyes?! Where was this strength when you lost yourself in a dream of darkness whilst your brother, my precious true son, was being assaulted by the last vampire and I had to go and protect him?! I think I have an answer for you!"

Caiellis failed to stifle a yelp as his dad pushed against him harder and bolts of light rained down from the sky above him, shattering and effortlessly piercing straight through the hastily crafted shield of stained glass surrounding a mass of shadows the youth automatically created when he sensed the threat from above, though he couldn't pull away from his dad and dodged the attack because the Lucerna greatsword wielded by his father would crash into him, and couldn't execute some sort of ridiculous evasion manoeuvre because of the pain it would cause in his ribs and concussed head that was most likely making his pupils dilated. The bolts, instead of burning holes through his young body, merely pierced into the skin (luckily his head was unscathed, but his shoulders and back were not) and were intended to restrict his movements as well as prevent him from calling upon some of his mana reserves that were being drained every second he didn't give into the pain and rest, Unsummoning Orzhova as well, and Cai resisted the urge to shut his eyes in an attempt to block out the agony and fear cascading up and down his spine, knowing that he had to be perfectly aware and have access to as many of his senses as possible if he wanted to achieve victory over his dad.

Marik seemed to know that his son was against hurting him as otherwise he would have employed more potent magical defences to ward against any potential bombardments of magical light or darkness, but right now all he was using was a guard against the possible delaying negative auras his smallest and youngest son might try to use to subdue him peacefully or force him away from him, and pressed in with his attack as the bolts impacted into his son, splitting through some of the enchantments of White and then making a mockery of the boy's recklessly light armour and piercing into the soft and young flesh beneath, drawing more blood that was instantly joined by the unnaturally vivid and extravagant Rain of Gore as it pattered and splashed into the circular cuts and starting stinging. The man wielded his words as weapons against his youngest heir just as much as he deployed his magical attacks and utilised his ancient relic greatsword, continuing on with his demeaning and hateful assault that Cai tried to block out of his mind but failed to do so, Marik hissing, "It is just a façade, a show of false power that you don't possess and never have done! You are weak, fragile, and an unworthy bearer of a First Sisterhood angel!"

Caiellis had noticed that, in this fight between two members of two very different but fatefully entwined families, once that Akroma had been used to take Orzhova away from the youngest Lucerna the king and the Angel of Wrath didn't seem to be fighting together, though the most plausible explanation of that would be that the two wanted to deal with the failures of their different families individually with no input from the other, and he assumed rightly that the father of two and his dutiful and furious seraphim wouldn't be able to mentally communicate because of the disruption caused by Rakdos. It was quite different to how Marik and Akroma usually fought, as while the two weren't as close when in combat as Caiellis and Orzhova (though that was because he was still young and weak, therefore dependant upon his angel – even so they usually fell into the tried and tested strategy of having the Sancturia creatures fight one another as the Summoners duelled most of the time) and the forty year old wasn't as reliant upon his angelic guardian as Cai was his, they usually directed a series of blows in unison and exploited their enemies' weaknesses together, but now each was fighting alone with seemingly no coordination with the other, happy to deal with their respective targets alone and allowing Marik to make use of his son's emotional and physical fragility.

He hadn't realised how much he had come to depend on the Angel of the Black Sun being able to mentally converse with him when the two were fighting together, and he was taking an immense risk by following through with this course of action, but the last time he had looked over at Orzhova – which was when he had been able to hide within his shadows, using it as a temporary respite from his dad's wrath as well as a chance to quickly observe what was going on the battle between two First Sisterhood angels – she had been either hit by an attack born of wrathful White mana, or was baiting her heavenly sister in so that should could strike her down or gain an advantage in the fight against the very powerful Angel of Wrath, which was what Caiellis was betting on. This was an immense risk, and it did not suit his fighting style at all, but not having access to the most powerful ability in his arsenal – his healing – didn't suit his fight style either, and neither did having to suppress his enemies peacefully or battle with wounds. Hopefully his dad wouldn't expect it from him, since the man seemed to have observed his way of combat quite well in the opportunities that had been afforded to him, silently assessing and judging it whilst also declaring it unfit for purpose, but that was another matter entirely. He just hoped that Orzhova wasn't truly on the back foot and would somehow be able to pick up on what he was doing and that she wasn't too distracted by Akroma.

However, Cai knew that he would never win against his dad in the conventional manner, as even though the man was bleeding quite heavily – having done nothing to staunch the flow of the wounds in his lower abdomen – he was far stronger than his thirteen year old son who was still unlocking his own power and growing in strengths of magical and physical (although the latter left a lot to be desired in terms of its development and Caiellis was pretty sure that he looked thinner than ever despite having access to plenty of food (as opposed to during the civil war that had contained most of his life), as the fact that he had grown taller (to a fantastic four feet eleven inches) meant that he looked even more skinny), as well as the fact that Marik was fully prepared to kill his progeny whilst the littlest Lucerna was extremely reticent to even harm his flesh and blood (apart from one person that fell under that category that was no longer part of his family) in triumphing over his dad.

He was glad that he wasn't too pathetic to even take control of his emotions and lock them away for now, although each and every one of his father's awful words cracked the dams he had placed around the whirlpool of remorse and sadness inside of him, because it meant that the boy was able to think objectively about his current situation. Caiellis made sure to let more of his pain and internal agony leak out of the crumbling barriers in his emerald green eyes, hoping that it would signal to his father that his words were having an effect upon his second born and that he would continue upon his attacks and focus upon his words, concentrate solely upon ending his son's life instead of looking at the wider battle to see what the angels were doing.

It was very dangerous, because Cai knew from past experience that his dad was quite a good strategist and had to be perceptive of all the different occurrences across the battlefield, but normally he was leading an entire army and directing them whereas now he was focussed exclusively upon his youngest son and had no soldiers to order around, and perhaps his anger would stop him noticing what was going on behind him, though to be fair Caiellis wasn't exactly aware either because of the fact he had to intently watch his father if he wanted to avoid death. He winced at the pain in his back, the bruising from being slammed up against the wall flaming up in tandem with the pain caused by the bolts of immobilising mana that had stabbed into his shoulders and back, used to restrict the movement of an opponent more than cause them pain as his and his father's massive sword of cold Lucaelian steel shining with the power coming from his dad, the mana crashing against his own and threatening to overpower him at any moment as his dad continued on with his words, damning his son with each of them as he forced the boy further backwards, and Cai grimaced as his father yelled, "But I tried with you! I tried, you ungrateful little shit, despite the fact that I had never wanted you, but instead you threw it back in my face and endangered the life of the only son I had ever wanted as well as causing the death of the one who almost gave her life to bring you into this world!"

Cai felt sadness stirring within him when he heard the slight tinge of an emotion other than anger in his father's voice, one of severe disappointment in his youngest son, and wished that he had tried harder to repair their relationship as well and hadn't been as weak as he had been, but now was too late for thinking about the past and his pushed the thoughts back into their prison within his mind, focussing his thoughts down to only those required by the battle with his dad, utterly smothering all of the unnecessary mental pathways until all that was left within his mind was a complete and utter concentration upon the battle at hand and the emotions required to empower his mana, those of sadness and his hatred for demons combined with his desire to protect those that had given up so much for him and keep Lucael – or even the world – a prosperous place for people to realise their dreams and not have to go through the same things as him, a potent mixture of White and Black mana generated within him allowing him to resist his father and keep upright against his might.

"Dad … please can we just stop this? Neither of us want it, and if you want me to die that badly I can throw myself into the battle against Rakdos while you watch and wait for a time to strike against the Archdemon," Cai pleaded, and although mostly he was doing it to rouse his father's ire and contempt – knowing that the pathetic and begging words was sure to elicit that sort of reaction from his furious dad – so that he could be baited into further attack and want to hurt his son even more, one small part of him was using this chance to throw his and Alexander's dad one last lifeline, give him one final opportunity to renounce his earlier words and fight alongside his youngest son in the name of the Kingdom of Light and unity instead of division, even though he was aware that building up hope within him was absolutely pointless and that if someone hated him enough to try and strangle him to death as well as breaking his ribs, smashing his head open and attempting to eviscerate him with his sword, then there was to be no swaying them to suddenly want to ally with him and help him against a common enemy.

Not that the boy considered his dad his enemy any way, as while that may have been how he had thought even just the day – or perhaps up until the point where he had started to battle the Lord of Riots and realised how foolish his arguments with his father had been and how stupid he had become in rushing through the City of Usnaan without help in spite of knowing that otherwise the Archdemon would have been Summoned without opposition – before now, all he wanted was the man to help him and in fact felt sorry for Marik, knowing how much of an incidental disappointment that the king's second son happened to be and the amount of failures that he had caused. He didn't blame anyone for not loving him or wanting him dead, because there was nothing that he had that was worthy of merit compared to anyone else – but that meant he was perfect for being the sacrifice needed to slay the Archdemon.

Caiellis had already prepared himself for what his dad's response to the words would be, but to get him to be convinced that Cai was succumbing to his sadness once again and that he was all alone while Orzhova battled with the growling Angel of Wrath, he carefully let out sections of his mind that screamed for this to stop and for his dad to embrace him like a father should, irrespective of what he had done in the past, and battle together with him so that the nations of both the Kingdom of Light and the innocents of the New Empire of Passion could be safe and they could return to having a happy family again. He needed to balance it out, make sure that his voice reflected the all too real internal despair that he had locked away behind his eyes at being rejected by his father and having one of his greatest fears being enacted upon him by the man, the agony knowing that his big brother could be in immense danger because of him and the truth that his dad wanted him dead so that he couldn't put any more people in a similar situation, and the hope, that foolish, childish, naïve hope that the adults and elders in his life would fix everything and transport them away from this city of pain and death that contained foul demons of hedonism and destruction as well as their corrupt mortal servants.

"Dad, we can work this all out, please, I don't want this and neither do you," Caiellis begged as his father increased the pressure of his greatsword against the littlest Lucerna's crystalline and glowing Sword of Glass whilst simultaneously calling down more holy missiles from the sky that thudded into his son, reducing the amount of mana he could take in – obviously Marik knew him well enough to realise that weakening his youngest son physically any more than he had already done was completely superfluous and wouldn't accomplish anything, deducing that the only source of power for the fragile boy was his magic and it was the sole reason he was able to stand up and, however fleetingly, resist his dad's sword and power, the man's lip curling into a derisive frown all the while as his son cried out in pain, his voice youthful and shaky and inflected with large amounts of the agony that he was in.

While Caiellis would have liked to say, if for no other reason that to have some semblance of pride and self confidence within his mind that he could stoke in these last few hours, was that he had yelped in pain to better reinforce the image he was creating of himself and adding to the plethora of things he had done to convince his dad that he was on his last legs and that this was his final hope – which is was, but not in the way that the king would think – instead he had done it involuntarily because the magic was burning through his skin and sending an awful and tormenting stimulus coursing through his nervous system that made him want to arch his back and cower until it ended, but the fact that his pain was all too real meant that the appearance of a terrified young and fragile boy that just wanted his dad to help him like a father should – which was not far from the truth at all – was even more persuasive.

The wounds caused by the magic would probably take days to heal (as if he didn't repair his wounds near instantly with his draining magic the instantaneous healing would cease to work and force him into conventional methods, such as waiting for his Lucerna bloodstream to repair the injuries) even with his faster healing (which was balanced out by his increased fragility, making him rejuvenate minor things only slightly faster than normal Lucaelians unless he utilised mana – also meaning that during the civil war he had caught many more illnesses than his older brother), and could even leave permanent scars – like the ones that hadn't yet disappeared on his abdomen and chest through his self harming. It was a good job that Caiellis had ceased to care about what happened to himself any more.

He coughed again, feeling his saliva that was flecked with blood dripping down his face in a rather unpleasant display as his throat felt raw and his body begged for a drink, a nourishing and cold intake of refreshing water, but Cai had no idea where the army standard bottle that he had had in his light armour had gone, and there was no time for a short break now anyway (not that there was any guarantee that the water wouldn't have been hot and corrupted by this point at any rate), not with his father bearing down on him and his mind needing to be utterly focussed upon what would happen if he was to avoid death.

Knowing that there was little point in holding them back any longer and that they were already at the threshold for pouring out of him in a tidal wave of dejection and sorrow, he let the tears start to rush – no, cascade – out of his young and emerald eyes that aptly showed his pain again, spilling down his soft pale and bloodied cheeks and carving clear paths through the blood with the transparent liquid (as his tears were only shining when invoking powerful magic, the fact that they were clear and normal aptly emphasising that in the end he was just an innocent and scared child – not a Lucerna, just a normal boy that only wanted love and to be accepted – forced to go through such a large amount emotional strain that many adults would never be able to recover from) before his ashen skin was again stained with the vivid blood from above and that it turn was swept away by more tears replaced by more gore splattered onto him from the Tempest of Craving.

"Stop it! Please! Dad, just help me … I'm scared … why … why are you doing this?" Cai implored, knowing that his eyes would be wide with terror and sadness, the tears pouring out of his right one streaming over the ominous Black Sun birthmark that had set the standard for the rest of his life, a stain upon him that made him the recipient of the people's fear and mistrust when all he had wanted to do was to help them just as much as he wanted help himself, an utter lack of confidence in anything that he did mixed with a deep hatred of himself that was only staved off and made non-existent by his older brother (and to a lesser extent his "Uncles") who had encouraged, supported and loved him, made him feel wanted and worth something. The dark mark was flashing and glowing with a riotous and sombre purple glow, gifting him even more mana in return for tasting his emotions, and Cai suddenly realised what he had to do to make this plan work and to ensure that Orzhova had enough time and warning at her end, something that would make those that care about him baulk in concern and fear for him but something that ultimately didn't bother him one bit, because physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional agony that had suffused his mind.

Now it was time to deliver the final part of his admittedly true speech, the boy wielding the truth as a weapon to manipulate his dad into over extension just like Orzhova had lied to make Akroma do the same a moment or so earlier, taking a step back to ensure that he didn't lose balance and died before he was ready to initiate the next part of his plan that would end with the death of the Lord of Riots, who was watching the proceedings with a sick sense of sadistic entertainment that made Cai want to end his wretched and abhorrent existence even faster and made hatred war for control with his misery within his breast.

He took a breath wracked with sobs as his dad pressed harder, knowing from his son's strength weakening with every second that the boy would soon give out and be at his complete mercy as he growled at the child's weeping and begging for forgiveness, before speaking for the final time as the loser in this fight, infusing the words with every ounce of raw emotion that he possessed within him as it all came flooding out, releasing the hold upon the cages restraining his overwhelming mournful sadness and allowing all of his despair to pour out of his eyes and take a physical form, and to be brought to melancholic life through his words, "Dad … I love you..."

"That feeling is not mutual," Marik started gravely, the seriousness of his words coloured with his monumental anger but moreso severe dissatisfaction and disaffection mixed in with his disgust that this pleading and weak boy was related to him in any way, all of this showing in his piercing blue eyes as they glared at his youngest son in a way that would stay with Caiellis for years if by some turn of fate he would survive this battle for the City of Pleasure, as Cai was slowly pushed backwards, their swords grinding together in a furious display of colliding magics and physical sparks as the last vestiges of his body's non magical strength began to give out, pain clouding his vision as his ribs ached with the strain as he held his blade with both hands, one covered in a small cloud of shadow that allowed him to grip his extremely sharp sword's luminescent crystalline blade whilst also protecting him from any attempt his dad might make to hack off his fingers, his relic weapon slowly pressed back against him until he took another step back and found himself back against the wall that had been the site of his near death in the hands of the one who was trying to repeat that act.

Adrenaline flared up in his mind. No! I need to have space behind me in order to go through with my plan! The youngster cursed himself; he had been far too focussed upon his emotions and his father's reaction to his release instead of where they were in comparison to the geography of the desolate courtyard. Cai's back ached in empathetic pain from the ordeal it had suffered earlier, and his eyesight began to be blurred with tears of agony and despair that streaked down his face and were absorbed greedily by the radiating Black Sun before he forced his vision to be cleared, knowing that the next few seconds were vital for the success of his incredibly hazardous strategy that placed him at immense personal risk, and while he knew that it didn't exactly match his appearance as someone who was about to give up he supposed that this could be seen as his final act of defiance, his last try in an ultimately wasted attempt to preserve his life seconds longer in a desperation born from his overwhelming fear, and pulsed an immense beam of light out of the flat of his sword and into his father.

The man was completely prepared for such an attack, absorbing most of the gigantic pillar of blinding radiance onto his swords as interlocking shields of milky White mana were birthed into the air around him to protect his body from the last ditch effort to kill him, but he still took a step back and allowed the boy to move away from the wall before pressing his sword in with a renewed offensive against his now exhausted son who had used everything in a final blast of mana to try and resist his inevitable death, and though his eyes highlighted how he found it pathetic that his child hadn't been able to scratch him – or even singe the hair on his skin, leaving him exactly the same as he had been before the admittedly powerful blast – he didn't transfer the thoughts going on in his head to any more insults, simply infusing them into his words as he ended with more than a hint of finality, "And it never has been."

Everything moved in a shining blur after that. Caiellis pulled back his sword the precise moment before he would have been overwhelmed by his father's large physical strength augmented to inhuman levels by his magic and sent sprawling as the man's blade lashed forwards, carving a blinding slash across the air between them that hit the boy in his thin chest, luckily just avoiding his already broken ribs as otherwise he may not have been able to pull off the manoeuvre. He leapt backwards the second his father did so, pressing his back against the wall again as one part of his mind wished for more space before he crushed it and clamped down on his emotions, one part of him ignoring the stinging pain as his dad's ancient Lucerna broadsword cut into his fragile skin through his armour that offered no defence whatsoever, clamping down on the emotions that he had released from himself and crushing the pain that shot through him as the tip of the blade sliced into him and carved a line across his lower chest that joined several others that were self inflicted and had faded with time, although the fact that he had jumped backwards meant that it hadn't impaled him or hacked into any vital organs.

There was a large explosion of blood and pain (that the boy dismissed) as he cried out, the red liquid spurting out from the wound that was slightly more significant than just skin deep but didn't penetrate to his organs (though it did graze his ribs above those that were broken) and fountaining into the air as he brought his desire to enact justice upon the Archdemon and mixed it with his deep sadness at being attacked with by his father as the Black Sun began to shine with a blinding intensity of purple radiance and luminescent darklight that eclipsed even the light coming from his dad, Orzhova sensing and ready for his plight and infusing the boy with huge amounts of mana as more blood jetted from his wound as the light and shadows began to be collected into the spray of scarlet.

He dropped his Sword of Glass and held his hands out to the sides, palms open and facing opposite areas of the courtyard as the one in his left began to be suffused with an imperious and holy White light that collected into an orb of blinding intensity and golden luminescence as the opposite happened to his right, coils of snaking darkness and billowing shadows wrapping around his thin forearm and accumulating into the rough shape of a sphere dripping with tenebrosity and hovering above his right hand as his White and Black mana rose in intensity. He slammed the orbs together, fusing them for a second into a shining star pulsing with darklight before releasing the power trapped within it.

All of this took him less than a second, and the magic of White and Black combined flowed into the blood jetting out from the wound inflicted by his father who was, instead of instinctively recoiling in an effort to preserve himself – as while Cai was not using the magic to kill, his dad didn't know that and he could easily turn his mana offensive (although he doubted that it would be strong enough to dramatically harm his father) if he so desired, though that would most likely end up with him dead – and the crimson droplets fused together in a cascade of lifeblood began to crystallise, vitrifying into a stream of scintillating glass fragments made out of the caster himself that surrounded his father, pulsing with debilitating and numbing mana as they built up a cage around the king that would not harm him but would lull him into a sleep until his youngest son finished what he had started, Cai's eyes shining with tears and full of pain at the magic he was using, siphoning off bits of his own life that wouldn't have to be reclaimed later to heighten the power of the spell made from his own pain that restrained his father, who released light indiscriminately all around him in an attempt to break free from the glass fragments surrounding him that were infinitely fragile and delicate but ultimately unstoppably strong as they slowly drained him of the will to stay awake.

He shouted in fury and rage, banging his fists (as he was forced to drop his sword due to lack of strength) against the perfectly formed crystal droplets of blood that shone with a calming but forceful purple light and hummed with a quiet but resounding melody that sounded strangely comforting, and Cai knew that instead of damaging his dad it would keep him safe until either his duty was complete or he died fighting the Archdemon, and sudden panic rushed through the boy's mind as some of the blood crystals that contained all of Caiellis's pain and sadness and simple desire to protect those that he loved, to protect Alexander from further pain, shattered because of his father's resistance. He could hear the frenzied clashing of blade on blade a few metres away but assumed that Orzhova was delaying the Angel of Wrath so that he could finish here.

"What are you doing, you damn brat!" the man shouted furiously and incredulously, although in his voice there was a slight hint of something that scared Caiellis – fear, though it was not a fear for Marik himself, as he protested in rage, destroying more of the crystalline prison as the other thrumming stones of bloody amethyst increased the spaces between them to compensate, and Cai poured more mana into the spell despite knowing that he would need enough to defeat the Lord of Riots. He started to have doubts – if I don't have enough mana to complete this spell, then what hope do I have against that – before brutally crushing them under the heel of his determination when he saw his dad cough up blood himself, one large gauntleted hand automatically clutching his bleeding lower abdomen as the other banged on the prison created by his son and his angel's mana.

The man's wounds were far more severe than his violent and strong actions would let on, and Cai wished that he was as strong as that – able to easily ignore any form of wounds in the pursuit of his goals – but knew that with his fragile frame and admitted over reliance upon magic instead of his physicality (although any training he did seemed to just make him become thinner, and he couldn't stomach eating as much as his brother did without exploding), and that meant that the youngest Lucerna was the only one able to take on Rakdos, as it should be because it had been his mistakes that had lead to his Summoning after the Archlord of Rapture was killed, just like he had been the only one able to prevent the entrance of the Lord of Riots before all of this, he had simply failed to do so. He reinforced his magic with those thoughts, calling the Sword of Glass to himself and gripping it when it levitated in front of him, using it to strengthen his magic and allow him to channel it through the crystal blade and trying to ignore his father's shouts as the volume of his magic increased, "You'll get us all killed, you foolish brat! Let me out of here, you worthless little shit, so that I can finish with you and then kill Rakdos! Release me now, or we will both die and Alexander will as well!"

Cai gripped the handle of his sword tightly, blocking off the more sensitive and emotive parts of his mind that would be affected by the words and start forming doubt within him when he desperately needed to be focussed on what he intended to do once he had finished this spell for it to work. Some parts of him were considering the possibility that what his dad was saying was correct, as he wasn't exactly sure how long it would take his father to rouse from his slumber if Cai failed and was destroyed by the Archdemon, but it was better than letting the man who looked extremely pale despite the blood pouring off him – that was now splattering and sizzling on the shield of purified darkness surrounding him in the gaps between the gems formed from blood that he had shed from his own youngest son, infused with emotion and pain that allowed the spell to work and his dad to be restrained as he smashed another of the crystalline droplets. Caiellis didn't let it faze him, not even whispering an apology to his dad in his mind as he increased the strength of his mana and held the man's arms to his body to stop his resistance with coils of gold that sapped the will to do violence – or even stay awake – from him, also blocking out his vision of the man as the light formed from imperious and golden incandescence as well as the paradoxically blinding shadow that the host of the Angel of the Black Sun had got used to but would be extremely surprising for any who hadn't witnessed the full power of united White and Black mana combined with the purple and melancholic glow of his sadness completely removing all hope of seeing the man, who shouted, "Is that what you really want?! For your brother to die, all alone, just because you had the foolish conception that you can defeat a demon of Archdemonic magnitude alone?!"

A multitude of thoughts rushed through Caiellis's head in response to the words, ranging from, I wouldn't have had to fight Rakdos all alone if you had just helped me instead of trying to choke me to death and kill me, and me defeating you this easily shows how bad a state you are in, and that you are in no way any condition to be fighting an Archdemon either, dad, but he didn't voice any of them, focussing on ending his spell as soon as possible so that Orzhova wouldn't be in any more danger as Akroma threw herself into her darker sister with an almost suicidal fervour that the Angel of the Black Sun was only too eager to exploit and use against her, leaving the words unspoken because he knew that they would be too quiet to be heard over the magic and the crashing noise of his dad still managing to release mana in an attempt to free himself from the cage that would give Cai one final chance.

He tried not to visualise his big brother being surrounded by endless hordes of enemies on each side of him and bleeding from numerous wounds scattered across his body, wearily raising his sword one last time as Aurelia faded from existence and he was left on his own, pushing it down whenever it tried to resurface as he almost lost the hold on the spell and his dad attacked the barrier with an even greater ferocity, light blasting out holes in the black and white luminescence surrounding him as the crystals that were destroyed release their payload of blood upon the man, panic rushing through Caiellis's mind as he was forced to sidestep a bolt of disintegrating white incandescence that shuddered through the air only a hair's breadth from him, his concentration intentionally disrupted by his dad, before suddenly plunging his mind into the image of Alex dying horrible deaths at the hands of swarms of Welkalites because he had been alone and no one had been able to help him, his magic levels increasing as he brought the situation under a form of control again by blasting a bolt of darklight at one of the vitrified drops of his blood, the rough glass refracting the unlight all around it and into the others, creating a shining matrix of darkness around it that resisted his father's endeavours to free himself from his youngest boy's magic.

"Why are you wasting time trying to restrain me?! Why don't you just finish me off now, eh, Caiellis?!" the man questioned, trying to bait a response from his second and unwanted son, who didn't bother to favour him with one as he drew several shimmering sigils that thrust themselves to the forefront of his mind with his Sword of Glass, knowing that if he turned the magic to be killing it would lose its restrictive and numbing properties and allow his dad to burst out and swiftly end the life of his son as he taunted, his voice inflected with that same hint of fear for his firstborn son and those that he cared about within the armies that might have sparked a flare of jealously from within Cai had he still been under the illusion that his dad should worry or be concerned about him, but instead just made him feel sorry for both himself and his father who had been forced to deal with him. Both of them knew that his spells wouldn't be powerful enough to end his dad, not with the Lucerna crown resting upon his brow, and Marik was just trying to put him off so that he would be able to escape, so he closed his eyes, took a deep, shuddering breath as his father jeered, "What, are you a coward?! I suppose I already know the answer to that, my boy! You were never cut out for honourable Lucaelian life, ever since you first developed Black mana within you!"

Caiellis would have liked to say that he was disappointed that his dad couldn't look beyond what type of mana he had inside of him, like precious few others had managed to do, but truthfully he already knew that it was one of the many reasons he was inadequate and didn't expect anything more from the king of Lucael who had already tried to kill him. He reopened his eyes, determined to see this through to the end and endure his father's insults and degradations to their fullest extent, knowing that they would increase the amount of sadness that he was experiencing and that if he faltered now and gave the man the chance to escape because of his words then he deserved his death, and increased the power of his magic further, not even flinching at the pain blossoming within his limbs as he calmly traded more of his life force for mana and subsequently converted it into White so that the spell could be empowered in that more peaceful respect, the light covering his dad fading to the point where he could see the man glaring at him and conjuring up magical energy to fling at the barriers preventing him from getting to grips with his youngest son.

He looked deep into those coldly angry and contemptuously furious blue orbs, meeting his dad's disappointed and damning gaze with his own that was probably full of raw emotion and welling up with tears as he thought of what could be harmed if he failed now, and forced himself to keep looking into them instead of doing what he wanted, which was to avert his eyes and stare at the ground in shame and fear as he felt his own soul shrivelling up underneath the white hot fury of the glare directed at him by the one person living that had created him and raised him up until the tender age of four, failing to keep a few tears from spilling out of his eyes as his dad's desperately angry visage was replaced by one of cold fury and a sneer of hatred as Cai murmured softly, not sure if the words would be carried over the din of the combat (although, saying that, it had fallen eerily, almost hauntingly, quiet), "I'm sorry, dad."

He truly meant it, but it was far too late for apologies now and he swept his blade across the pattern of different symbols he had etched upon the air that sizzled with the potentially fatal torrent of the Rain of Gore, carving them in half as his dad was pulled into an abyss of sleep from which he would be roused if either Caiellis ran out of mana (which included him dying) or deactivated the spell himself, but before the king fell unconscious Caiellis still saw him glare at his youngest son one last time, hissing, his voice full of utter and absolute hatred tainted by worry and love for Alexander, "You're not my son."

Caiellis couldn't stop himself from flinching back, because, even after all the damnation heaped upon him by his father's words and violence, the words still hurt the core of his being, and his dad frowned one last time before plunging into unconsciousness within his cage, his eyes snapping shut as his head drooped, and if not for the battle damage tarnishing his father's armour and the large wounds in his stomach that must have been exacerbated by the fight one could easily mistake Marik for simply being in a peaceful slumber, which was quite ironic and unexpected since Cai had anticipated him fighting it as soon as he had lost consciousness, but the way that his dad seemed to be sleeping was almost blissful, though his heavy and pained breathing soon put that impression to rest.

Cai turned from his dad, glancing over at Orzhova who sent a look back at him, her onyx orbs impenetrable to her Summoner which suggested that she wanted to hide her emotions from him to not worry him, not that he could get any more worried, as strangely, instead of being Unsummoned and returning to the Mind Realm, Akroma fell to her knees as if in repose, closing her eyes and falling still. To her credit, the dark angel didn't even glance at her sister despite wanting to bury her scythe in her skull while she had the chance, knowing it wouldn't achieve anything other than forcing her away from reality and back into Marik, and flew to Caiellis's side silently, landing next to him as he turned towards her, his eyes full of emotion that made Orzhova's heart ache like little else did and made her want to protect this little and fragile boy that she had picked as a Summoner that was one of the strongest people she had ever met and would certainly help her achieve her goals in the future.

The smallest Lucerna was trembling with fear and pain, and she knew that what he had done must have been incredibly hard for him because of the fact it would have been so easy to lash out at the person who had wronged him so much and betrayed him when he had needed him most, and his breaths came in short gasps as he looked up at her, fear, pain, and sadness all flashing through his wide green eyes before he evidently attempted to crush the emotions within him. Orzhova wanted to comfort the boy, who was filled with dejection from what his damned father had said and most likely thinking that he wasn't worth anything; she wanted to remind him that he was precious to a lot of people including herself and that he shouldn't be downhearted because of what his idiotic dad had said, but there was no time and if there had been Orzhova knew she wasn't entirely sure what she would have said.

She wished she could sense the entirety of what was going on behind the fortifications that were starting to be built up in his young and soulful eyes, or to be able to read his surface thoughts and ascertain the truth of his emotion from there, but she couldn't and the reality was she, the dark seraphim that had had him condemned through the years for no fault of his own, might not have been able to help him. However, what she could do was make sure that he lived through this battle and help him to kill the Archdemon, who was rising up now that the family feud had ended and laughing balefully.

"Ha ha ha ha ha! HA HA HA HA HA! That was truly entertaining! Now do you see, young (he paused for a second, almost comically, as if he had forgotten the boy's name) Caiellis?" he roared tempestuously, almost sending the boy flying off his feet as his head snapped round to where the Lord of Riots was bellowing, cracking the ground with its grip as it pushed himself upwards opened his massive leathery wings to their fullest extent, sending the blood that had collected on them spraying everywhere as he shattered some of the massive spikes of rock that had driven up out of the hellscape the plaza had become around him, the sheer volume of the demon causing his head to throb violently as the world threatened to spin all around him until Orzhova's resolute grip steadied him, the concern that she had hoped wasn't showing in her midnight eyes turning to hatred as she glared at the cackling Defiler and gripped her Summoner's thin shoulder tightly as he continued, "Now do you see how futile your resistance is? Subduing your poor daddy has taken everything out of you, and you didn't even kill him! HA! If he, a pathetic mortal, almost killed you, then what possible hope do you have of defeating me?!"

Caiellis swallowed nervously, before calming himself as he began to shake even more visibly, somehow having forgotten the terror of being alone against the Lord of Riots through the emotional turmoil of the fight with his dad that had almost killed him, trying to space out and increase the length of his breathing before he hyperventilated and hurt his throat even more. This was his responsibility. This is my duty. I cannot fail now, or my big brother and the people of Lucael will pay the ultimate price as the Lord of Riots rampages across the world. I cannot allow that to happen, and I will fight until my last breath to kill you, Rakdos. I need to end the Tempest of Craving so that the soldiers and the innocent people of Welkas can live and enjoy their lives of freedom from the dark beings that the foolish Orders of Passion invited upon their new empire. I am the only one that can do this, which means that I have to succeed, I cannot fail now. I cannot fail now. I CANNOT FAIL NOW!

.*.*.*.

The hall was moderately large and had been the scene of many of Marik's undesirable memories to do with arguing with his father that had now been dead for five years, and was one of the many scattered around the vast Lucerna Palace that had always been massive throughout history unless one went back to its construction in the reign of Matalis Ortus Lucerna. Despite the fact that several sections – such as this medium sized hall (although it would be seen as cavernous by those not used to the scale of Lucaelian buildings) that could be used for strategy sessions or training depending upon what needed – had been refurbished over the years by the ever diligent servants and reverent caretakers that saw to the running of the imposing and gothic citadel, every single room in the palace still exuded a sensation of magisterial awe and ancient sacredness that Marik's wife had been taken aback by the first time she set foot within it, after being impressed to rare speechlessness by its size on the exterior.

It was still the morning, and whilst when he had been a moody teenager Marik would never have dreamed of having eaten breakfast (on the few days that he had done in the past) and been fully dressed and showered before ten o'clock unless his father forced him to or the day was special in some way, now after six years of having children it had become a normality for the king. He felt more relaxed than he had done in a long time, as today, barring anything sudden happening, was one of the extremely few days where he didn't have anything to do, and that meant that he could spend time with his family again. Marik had, in his opinion, failed in his promise to himself on his wife's birthday in the earlier months of this year that was now almost at an end, as while he had definitely spent more time with his family as a whole it had been quite unrealistic to promise himself that he would devote almost all his time to them.

Then again, Marik had always been extremely harsh upon himself, a trait that he hoped his sons only inherited as much as to make sure they weren't too arrogant and cocky, but not to the extent that it afflicted him, and both his wife and his two little boys seemed to be very happy at the moment and loved having their dad around more often than he had been in the past, as the tensions with the New Empire of Passion had died down for now after some Yentarian intervention and the absolute annihilation of a raiding party sent to assault trades routes between Civitas Sol and Crescia by an army lead by none other than the king's own twin brother.

He swept his gaze along his family that were stood with him within the hall after finishing the breakfast that had been attended by the Guardian and Hierarch of Capitalia Lux as well (and, surprisingly enough, the nineteen year old apprentice of Axeclion Tristram, although his surliness suggested that he had been forced by the albino Light-bearer to interact with the Lucerna family that he would one day be guarding), and he knew that today would be quite special in a way that it shouldn't have been. Well, it was unique in two ways, one of which he was immensely proud of and the other not so much. Alexander, his eldest son that was six years old and full of childhood enthusiasm, was about to start his official combat and magic training with Guardian Axeclion and his apprentice, and while Marik would have watched he had not spent the entire previous day schooling the excited youngster personally to ensure that he was ready for this formal training session.

Alexander was incredibly thrilled by the prospect of finally beginning to learn the ways of the warriors that he idolised, something that Marik might have objected to if he didn't know that as a Lucerna the boy had to learn combat and become more skilled than most of the soldiers across the Kingdom of Light, as he wanted to preserve the six year old's innocence as much as possible, though it was good that Alexander saw it as more of a game and something to be excited about instead of what war truly was, a mixture of the highest glory and one of the most horrifying things known to mankind, not that Marik had thought that way until he had married and had children of his own and baulked at the prospect of them having to fight for their lives.

The blonde was even more animated than usual, something that had amused his mother and his little brother to no end as he bounced around the room, seemingly unable to contain himself until the training began. Marik had known that Alexander had itched for this moment for several years now, and had often caught him wrestling with his little brother – although luckily not too roughly besides a little tumbling, and it was more done to Caiellis's benefit than anything else as his big brother gently tossed him around. The younger boy in question was stood next to his mother, who smiled at the six year old's antics as he jumped up and down on the spot in hyper enthusiasm, although he himself was quiet for now as he studied the paintings on the other side of the hall's walls, his green eyes full of silent introspection and a curiosity for knowledge that was borne from both his parents, and it was with a slight pang of guilt that Marik looked at the two year old, who didn't realise that he was being observed and turned back to his brother.

The other reason that this day was noteworthy was because it would be the first day since Caiellis had been less than one year old that his father spent solely with him, as while Marik had been staying with his family for longer periods of time he had spent that time with his entire family. He had privacy with his wife when his two adorable little munchkins went to bed, and also had longer with Alexander as he was older and didn't have to go to sleep as early as his baby brother, whilst Marik had also trained his eldest son in the art of combat alone the day before this one. That meant that, as was entirely wrong, he had stayed with Caiellis the least and had spent the shortest amount of time with just them alone.

This was because Emili was going to visit other noble families today in a way that his sociable wife surprisingly didn't do very often, as she enjoyed interacting with the circles of her friends in the families, and it was to reinforce the diplomatic appearance of the Lucerna family as well as make sure that they would have the support of the other prestigious households of the capital city that could also trace their ancestry back to the dark days of the first king and had aided the Lucerna royal family since should there be another push from dissidents across the kingdom for a discussion about the continued existence of young Caiellis, who had thankfully been kept away from the hatred and fear directed to the angel inside of him.

Caiellis already knew that this day was reserved for him to spend some time personally with his dad, which, to the man's sadness, was why he was acting slightly sullen, not joining in with his brother's happiness as he stared at the opposite wall, clutching his mother's hand tightly as she smiled down at him, and not even directing a glance at his dad, who stood rather awkwardly to the side and next to the Capitalia Lux Guardian that grinned at the eldest prince when he asked, bouncing on the spot, "Can we start the training now?"

Marik shared a glance with Axeclion, who smiled back at the limitless energy of the boy that he would be training today, and the king couldn't wish for a better combat mentor for his eldest son than the dependable yet masterfully skilful Guardian that had risen through the ranks of the army one by one until he reached this post, his utter undying loyalty to the Lucerna family one that thousands of others aspired to. He patted his son on the head fondly, and replied, "Of course, if Guardian Axeclion is ready for you." When the albino that had surprisingly friendly red eyes nodded, the man continued, "Be good, little man, and behave for Axeclion. He is giving up a lot of his time for you, Alexander, and I don't want you to waste it, ok?"
Marik heard his wife tutting at the overly strict message that he had just delivered, but he had hoped to impart the seriousness of this type of education that his little (well, "big" as he'd rather be called) boy was about to participate in, and it was shown that his words had penetrated when Alexander stood still for a moment and nodded solemnly back, making his father smile proudly at how grown up his boys were becoming as he cautioned, "Alright then, champ, make sure that you say safe during the training, though I'm sure Axeclion and Tristram will make sure that this won't be dangerous at all."

He directed the last statement at a kind of barb to the teenager, knowing that the only reason the Guardian tolerated his apprentice was his combat skill and potential for the role of Guardian, but the youngest man in the room stared back resolutely and nodded to the king, clearly realising that he had been too disrespectful this morning and eager to please Marik. Alexander nodded again as his dad ruffled his short blonde hair and he ran over to his mother's open arms, Emili kissing him on his forehead and grinning widely at the boy. When he was free, Alexander turned to his toddler brother, who had finished staring at the wall opposite and looked up at his older sibling with his wide and young green eyes, a smile forming on his face as well as the older boy wrapped a small arm (though he was growing very well for his age) around smaller shoulders.

"I'll see you later, Cai!" the boy declared loudly for all to hear as the adults in the room smiled at the brotherly bond developed by the young Lucerna siblings as Caiellis smiled back and remained silent despite the fact that he knew full well how to talk at this stage in his life, having shown the ability to do so the last birthday of his mum, and when Alexander pulled away he found a tiny hand grasping at his arm, turning back to the brother that barely came up to the bottom of his chest and asking him, "What are you doing, Cai?"

"Can I come with you, Alesh?" the youngest Lucerna inquired, his doleful green eyes brimming with hope and the want to remain with his big brother. While the younger brother still slurred and gurgled his words because of his age, still mispronouncing his brother's name as he had difficulty with his x's, it wasn't something that would concern Marik as all children were the same at that age. However, Caiellis seemed to be able to converse in a way that was not common at all to those his age, grasping nuances and ways of speech in a way that Marik hadn't seen a two year old before and interacting with his older brother almost as well as the six year old spoke to him. Alexander grinned down at his little brother and ruffled the curls of dark brown hair adorning his head affectionately, though obviously a little too roughly for the younger boy's liking as he tried to push his brother's hand away with his tiny own, mumbling a small yelp of pain, making Marik almost reprimand the eldest of his two sons, though he knew that his six year old wasn't doing the actions with the intent to harm his fragile sibling.

"No, little buddy, you have to stay here with dad," the older boy informed his little brother vaguely sternly, making Marik smile as Alexander favoured the titles that he had used on his eldest son when talking to Caiellis, and the smaller boy hung his head in a sorrowful manner that made Marik's heart ache, although he supposed that his youngest boy wasn't acting in that way to make his dad feel bad or insult him and was only two years old, but the boy's cuteness level increased even more as he looked up at his big brother with adorable puppy dog eyes that the king himself might have been swayed by, as he asked, "Pweeease?"

"When you are older, Cai," the older boy told him, filled with older brother importance and responsibility as he used what speaking with his dad had taught him when he put his hands on the smaller child's shoulders and looked him in the eyes when Caiellis sent a dejected glance at the floor, before turning back to his older brother and curled his bottom lip in disappointment as Alexander grinned at him despite his sadness at not being able to be with his brother and added, "And as big as me. Then you will be able to come with me."

He pulled the fragile two year old into a hug and squeezed him tight, lifting him off his feet before putting him down and running over to the side of the Guardian and his apprentice, who was smiling in a manner that the king hadn't seen often from the nineteen year old at the brotherly interactions. Alexander waved to Caiellis, who looked back hopefully, as if his brother was just pulling one of his jokes and would rush back to his sibling's side any moment now, and shouted, "I'll see you soon, little guy! Then I'll be able to show you some of the moves that I learn today!"

Caiellis turned around in a huff as the three left, not meeting eye contact with his exasperated father who wondered what he had done to incur the toddler's wrath that he had never experienced before, supposing that it was only directed at him because the boy would rather spend time with other people and hadn't spent a protracted period of time with his dad with the two on their own, and then looked up at Hierarch Mithres when the young man said, "I'd best be going then, my lord and lady. The papers won't write themselves, and the students at the academy certainly won't get taught by being left to their own devices." he smiled at his king and queen before grinning down at the youngest Lucerna, who stared back at him before thrusting out his hand, another expression of hope etching itself onto his young features as he looked into the eyes of the Hierarch, deploying his puppy dog eyes once again on the twenty one year old.

Mithres flicked his eyes to Marik, his expression remaining a smile although his eyes showed that he was vaguely uncertain on how to respond, because he knew that the youngest son of the king liked him because he read books to little Cai and helped him with his mathematics, and often took the youngest boy off of the hands of his family to satiate his unlimited curiosity for learning. He was aware that he would have to turn the two year old down, but wasn't sure whether the king or queen wanted to do it themselves or let him do it. His question was answered when Emili picked up her smallest son and held him in her arms as he snuggled into them, "Come on, Cai, you know that Mithy is very busy today. He has a job teaching other students at the academy, and while I'm sure he would happily spend time with you he doesn't have any to spend."

The pleasant twenty one year old grinned at the woman using the old nickname she had developed for him when he had just been a nine year old learning under the fantastic teacher (at the time) Hierarch Tybalt and ruffled the disappointed youngest Lucerna's hair, much more softly than his brother had done, before etching a quick bow and leaving the room and the Lucerna family alone apart from the ever watchful Lancalo who remained to guard them just in case, saying as he went, "Your mum is right, kiddo. I am busy. I'll read a book to you tomorrow, ok?"

"Ok," the youngest member of the room replied quietly moments after he had left, his young voice infused with dissatisfaction as he hung in his mother's arms, Emili realising her mistake too late but making sure that her son didn't know that as she looked over at her beloved husband, kissing her boy on his brown curls that, if her own hair was any indication, would straighten out and only curl at the bottom if he was allowed to grow it to a reasonable length (for a boy/man, at any rate), and then putting him down on the ground and glancing back at Marik, who seemed to be lost in thought and staring at Caiellis as he began to glare over at the wall again. Emili opened her mouth to inform her son that she was going to leave before the boy cut in before she did and said, "Mummy, can I come with you?"

"No, Caiellis. You would find going and seeing the other noble families very boring," the twenty nine year old woman replied quickly, though her voice was tinted with a soothing and motherly note that Caiellis and Alexander loved to hear from her, before she knelt down in front of her premature second son that was still small because of his birth, gently turning his head towards hers before asking, "Why don't you want to be with your daddy, Caiellis?

"...I..." the boy cut off, seemingly lost for words as his young mind wasn't able to articulate what he was thinking and unable to transfer the thoughts into words, his eyes highlighting that he didn't know how to make his thoughts heard and making Marik feel sorry for him, although he knew full well why the boy did not want to spend time with him – it was because the two year old didn't know him well enough and hadn't done it before. Emili looked at him expectantly, before murmuring when the boy fell silent, "There's nothing wrong with daddy, Caiellis. Daddy loves you just as much as I do, and you know that. You've played with him before, and now you are going to spend a whole day with him. Doesn't that sound exciting?"

Caiellis's adorably incredulous expression showed that he evidently disagreed, his face falling as he realised that this meant that he would be with his daddy, who he wasn't quite sure was someone that he wanted to be with. Sure, the man was cool, and he had played with him and his big brother, and he had helped Caiellis speak and he felt protected when he was with the towering and encouraging daddy that aptly exemplified how big and strong his already big and strong but not yet as big and strong as that brother wanted to be in the future. He wasn't exactly sure why he didn't want to be all alone with daddy, because he loved the times that he saw him and felt more safe than even when he was with his big brother and mummy, which was why he found it hard to say what was wrong. Emili continued regardless, urging, "Well I think it does. You two are going to have loads of fun together today."

She brought him into a hug and kissed him on the head, vaguely concerned by the fact that he seemed to be lost in thought and didn't respond to the motions, before rising to her feet and embracing her apprehensive husband. Emili laughed inside – here was Marik, who had stared down a powerful greater demon without even flinching and banished it from the world of man, held his own against his late father that had terrified Emili despite the fact that Garius had always been very polite and courteous to her, if not even loving to his daughter in law and faced Hierarch Incedian's potent wrath without even a blink, scared and nervous about confronting a two year old boy that was his own second son and someone that he loved more than anyone apart from the other members of his family.

Emili could have snorted. Her beloved husband constantly thought that he was an inadequate father, useless compared to her at caring for his children, but if he took a step back and saw that all he had done for his little boys without thinking about it, then he would realise that he was the best dad this world had ever seen, especially when one considered that he had his kingly duties to complete and the fact that he prosecuted them admirably.

"You'll be fine with him, Marik," he assured him in a comforting whisper as they hugged, resting her head on her husband's solid chest for a moment before turning to their youngest son and holding out a hand for him to grab so that they could share the cuddle with him, but Cai didn't even glance over and persisted in staring at the walls quietly. Emili wondered how reticent to speak he would be in his teenage years if this was how hushed he was at the age of two, although she supposed that he wasn't usually this quiet and normally chattered away about different things and posed a multitude of different questions to his family and their friends, though it was vaguely concerning for her that her youngest hadn't made any friends of his own age.

Marik smiled, because personally, he was massively glad for this chance to be with his baby boy and knew that he wanted it to be special for the boy, but also anxious about the fact that he was never sure how to interact with children. He had known with Alexander, because the eldest of his two boys had become a known quantity after the years, but little Caiellis was a different matter entirely and Marik was unsure of whether or not the techniques that had worked (and still did) with Alexander would prove to be successful on his baby. He let go of his vaguely small wife of only just more than five feet and six inches, and smiled as she left the room, leaving him alone with his son who was still staring intently at the opposite wall.

From what Marik had seen, which was quite a bit although he didn't give himself nearly enough credit for it, his youngest son was quite a quiet boy, as while he did speak and wasn't completely silent he was nowhere near as cutely loud as his big brother had been at that age, even though he was the centre of attention in any of the official celebrations due to his status as the youngest and newest Lucerna, and was more likely to stare at things inquisitively and let his thoughts play out in his mind instead of voicing them. Marik had always got the impression that the now two year old knew more about the world and his surroundings than was usual for those of his very young age, and his intelligent and sparkling wide green eyes seemed to confirm that.

However, for all that Caiellis was quiet in the presence of other people, there was one person that brought out the talkative side of his youngest son, and that was Marik's eldest. When the two sat by each other or spent time together as they often did, though Caiellis was always sad when his brother went to school because he wasn't old enough yet, Caiellis almost became as loud as Alexander himself, chattering happily away to his smiling big brother, giggling adorably when his sibling played with him and lifted him up in a way that he barely ever did and acting far more his age than at any other time. Alexander had become even more endeared by his little brother when the youngest Lucerna had learned how to talk in the quite remarkable capacity that he did, and loved having conversations with the two year old despite Caiellis not knowing as much as his brother and sometimes not understanding exactly what was said.

Watching his two sons play was one of the most enjoyable things in the world to the king, a chance for him to forget about the rigours of his occupation and the responsibilities of his holy duties, a time where he could just be a father instead of the supreme sovereign of a gigantic and powerful nation and have all of the needs of the people resting on his shoulders. Alexander broke Caiellis out of his peaceful quiet and made him excitable and happy, and the bond between his sons was something to behold and something that would aid them both in the future if anything awful like war happened. Marik pushed the thoughts of his mind; right now he had a vaguely surly two year old to bond with and enjoy a day with, not spend time thinking about the future and revelling in the present instead.

"Caiellis," he said, but the young toddler didn't turn around and continued to stare at the wall opposite silently, an introspective and slightly thoughtful tinge colouring his eyes and relaxing his face that had been pulled into a frown as his father walked closer to him, towering over the small and fragile boy before he knelt down to his height (although he still dwarfed his youngest son and was far taller than him even on his knees), coaxing and infusing his voice with both an affectionate timbre and a firm note, "Come on, Caiellis, look at your daddy."

Slowly, the boy turned his head towards his father, a mixture of curiosity, attentiveness and apprehensive disdain inflecting his young and pale but healthy features, regarding his dad with a kind of judging resonance which made Marik feel like he was being placed under a spotlight and was back training against his twin brother in front of their cold father, although it was nowhere near similar to that and Marik was just nervous about making a good impression upon his son and didn't exactly know what to do to interact with him, whether to throw them into a day of closeness and fun from the get go or to take a while to build up their familiarity with each other – well, his son's familiarity with him at any rate, as he had seen the boy every day of his just two year life.

Caiellis's eyes said it all, and Marik found himself doing what his wife often did and trying to measure and imagine what their son was thinking through his sparkling emerald orbs alone. They seemed to suggest: Right, I have looked at you like you told me to and stopped staring at the wall to do this. Now amuse me, and Marik hoped what he was doing today would impress his smallest child and show him that a dad wasn't just someone who protected and guarded from a distance and made them feel safe, but someone who could enjoy themselves and have a laugh with their children as well, someone to talk to in times of need and share their greatest hopes and fears with in confidence. He smiled warmly at the boy, who did not reciprocate the gesture, and Marik was sure that had his youngest son possessed and known how to read a watch or chronometer then he would have looked at it impatiently and maybe tapped his foot.

Marik didn't exactly know what to do, so instead used a tactic that had been tried and tested upon a young Alexander and had worked wonders for breaking the awkwardness and amusing the child, placing his hands in front of his eyes and face to conceal them from his baby boy, although he could still see through the gaps in his fingers and saw his youngest watching intently, as if slightly taken aback by this new development and gauging what would happen next, narrowing his eyes but remaining where he was as he stared at his dad. Marik chuckled to himself inside, knowing that had he not been a father he would have wondered how stupid he looked to other people (such as Lancalo who had remained in the room) and been embarrassed but because he had children he couldn't care less – his sons' and wife's happiness was his happiness.

He then revealed himself quickly, pulling his hands away from his face and hoping that Emili hadn't often done the same, otherwise Caiellis would have been used to it, shouting (but not loudly) "Boo!" to his son, who blinked in vague surprise and then smiled back, laughing softly which was an improvement to how sad he had seemed to be left with his dad before Marik had pulled the move. He giggled, a high pitched noise that warmed Marik's heart and made the world seem even more perfect, and his eyes were lit up in reasonable amounts of amusement as he told the man, "You're funny."

"Being a comedic genius is one of my many talents," the king replied nonchalantly, although inside he was extremely glad that he had provoked a response from his two year old son, who then narrowed his eyes and stopped his soft giggling, a frown of consternation furrowing his brows as he looked at his dad bereft of the humour that he had possessed only moments ago, making Marik vaguely concerned that his son was puzzling over what his dad had just said and was annoyed at himself for not understanding it – as Caiellis had exhibited that trait before and seemed to put himself under a lot of pressure to be able to understand what his elders were saying to him – before the toddler stated firmly, "No. You're not mummy or Alesh funny, you're … you're..."

He seemed to be lost for words, his face screwing up in concentration and irritation as he tried to find the right word to say, to voice his thoughts, stamping his foot on the ground in a display of annoyance that Marik had never seen from his quiet and often shy youngest son, before he raised one tiny hand and began tapping himself harshly on the forehead in a way that would leave bruises, rousing the king's fatherly instinct to instant action as he shot out his arm and gently but firmly encircled his son's immensely small and fragile wrist with one large hand and tenderly stopped him from hurting himself, exclaiming slightly aghast," Don't do that, Caiellis."

The boy glared at him for a moment before he stopped trying to resist the overwhelming power of his father and let his arm fall still in the man's warm grip, before excitement and elation flashed in front of his eyes and he smiled proudly, obviously having located the word for describing his father within his young mind as his dad let go, always worried about bruising or hurting his youngest son who was still affected by the fragility conferred by his premature birth and natural smallness that he had inherited from Emili, Caiellis smiling happily at having found the correct word and making Marik feel happy himself as he smiled at the boy. Caiellis then declared happily, "You're stupid!"

"Thank you, Caiellis," Marik replied without a hint of annoyance or surprise, knowing from his son's expression that the boy had said the words without meaning any harm and sending a fiery glance over Lancalo as the Lucerna Praetorian stifled a laugh that came out as a choked snort at the words of the youngest prince who seemed to have no idea what he had just said, proud of himself for speaking the words and not realising that they could have a negative affect upon other people's feelings. Marik turned back to his son, who directed a cute and confused glance over at the bodyguard as he repressed more laughter that was converted into more loud snorting, a question in his wide green eyes as to the reaction of the man when his dad had been perfectly fine with the words.

Marik could have rolled his eyes. Of course his youngest son would find him stupid, that was just typical because of the fact he had an older brother and mother to interact with who had probably pulled the same move before on the newest member of their perfect family, and Marik needed to find his own niche so that he could have a unique influence on his boy that wasn't just a faulty replica of his mummy or Alexander. Maybe he should tell Caiellis that it wasn't very nice to call people stupid, but he didn't want to make a negative impact upon the young toddler.

Instead he wanted to revel in the fact that his boy had such a good grasp of communication at his tender age despite not being exactly aware of the connotations of his words and what they could do as he turned slowly back to his dad, his eyes returning to their earlier tint which informed Marik that he only had a limited time before the boy dismissed him and decided that his earlier apprehension over being solely with his daddy was correct.

"So, Caiellis," he began, smiling as his boy turned to him attentively again and regarded his dad with a mixture of inquisitive curiosity, love and also a slight modicum of annoyance and sullenness over being prevented from being with his big brother, mummy or Mithy. The youngest member of Marik's family stared up at the second oldest, ready for his father to initiate the conversation and giving the man a small smile that Marik found very encouraging despite the fact that Caiellis wouldn't realise the amount that it was helping his dad – or perhaps he did, but his eyes still seemed to say that the king had to hurry up in spite of having his second son's full attention. He then asked, his voice comforting but not patronising at all because he knew that his children shouldn't be spoken to in that matter, "What do you want to do today? You have a whole day with me. We could play with your toys, or we could go out of the palace and into the city, or play hide and seek, or..."

Marik broke off as his son didn't react to any of his suggestions, still staring at his dad with his wide and innocent eyes although they were more eager than before, and the man knew that he had made the right decision in asking his son what to do instead of deciding it for him, though he hoped that Caiellis wouldn't ask anything absurd or ask to be taken to his brother that would be distracted with the two year old watching him and Alexander needed to be focussed and serious, because if he did then his baby boy would be severely disappointed. The boy looked at him, another question working its way into his dazzling green eyes that would one day help him a lot when it came for him to find a woman and continue the Lucerna line, and Marik grinned cheerfully to encourage him to voice his own ideas, telling the boy, "Anything you want (within reason), little man."

"Can we go to the librawy?" Caiellis mangled the word at the end of his sentence because of his age, although it was very clear what he meant to his father, who frowned for a second before turning his expression back to an affectionate smile so that his son didn't think that he was disregarding or disagreeing with the proposal. It had simply taken him slightly aback, but he supposed that he was more used to Alexander's incessant need for excitement and action whereas Caiellis had always been enthusiastic about being read to by anyone that was available and loved being taught how to read himself, and he knew that his little boy would be an avid reader like he had been in the past and Emili was now, although hopefully infused with his mother's desire to learn and expand their knowledge instead of his father's former want to get away and escape from the world. It was a good idea, he admitted, because it meant that his son would be heightening his mental education and it would be much easier for him than chasing the boy around the palace (not that the exercise was a bad thing).

Even so, Marik wanted to make sure that his son was entirely set upon this course of action before starting upon it, because if Caiellis got bored then he would probably blame his dad and the two would have to do something else, so he asked, "Are you sure, Caiellis?"

The boy narrowed his eyes almost comically once again, as if wondering what the problem with his suggestion was, before opening them wide again and eagerly nodding to his dad who had placed a large hand on his slender shoulder, still not sure what to think of the man quite yet when they were on their own (apart from the praetorian that Cai kept occasionally staring at when he thought that the perceptive Lancalo was unaware, though the man was used to childish adoration from the eldest of his lord's two sons), and he wrapped a warm hand around his dad's large index finger as the man stood up, taking care to leave his arm dangling down so that his son could hold his hand as he declared, "To the library it is then!"

He didn't fail to notice the unamused glance Caiellis sent in his direction then, and he cursed again, knowing that while his eldest son had loved everything being exciting and dramatic and loud his youngest probably didn't enjoy things being overblown or made to seem more fun than they were, not that Caiellis though the library a boring place because he himself had asked to go there. It was early in the morning still, a couple of hours until midday, and Marik thought that perhaps he should have made his son participate in an activity that would help him release some of his limitless energy that he possessed as well as his brother (as the king had seen both of his children's endless ability to run around in circles in action) instead of going to the library and reading, as there was no room to play there if Caiellis decided that he wanted to.

The second eldest Lucerna held his son's fragile and small but warm hand that was full of life and clutching onto his father's own as they walked out of the hall and into one of the many vaguely comfortable corridors in the palace, nodding respectfully to servants as Caiellis hid shyly behind his dad's leg when the aged woman asked how the youngest son of the king was doing, prompting the man to roll his eyes to her and wait until she walked past before turning around to his son and automatically kneeling down in front of him when the two year old stared at the floor, Marik's concern rising slightly as his son brushed his free hand over the ominous Black Sun mark on his right cheek that could serve to make him look terrifying for some, but to Marik just emphasised his innocence and purity in spite of the First Sisterhood angel that had chosen his precious baby boy.

"What's wrong, Caiellis?" he asked, wondering why he had been acting so timid in the presence of one of the motherly servants that had known him all his life, and Marik gently tilted his son's head up so that he could see into the toddler's eyes as the boy mumbled, "Nothing, daddy."

"Is your Lucerna birthmark hurting?" Marik inquired, and the second he did so the boy stopped touching it and let his arm fall by his side in an extremely exaggerated motion that would seem to suggest that it was, but the baby didn't look like he was in pain and would have communicated it by now if he was. He replied, "No, daddy. Let's go."

He tried to stride straight past his kneeling dad with his toddling gait set determinedly on the destination of the palace library that stretched, but the man gently wrapped an arm past his waist and pulled the boy into a hug. He fidgeted for a few seconds and tried to pull away, before realising that the effort was fruitless and resigning himself to the cuddling embrace with a sigh that sounded far older than his short life of two years, used to being forced into hugs by his sometimes overbearing big brother, but then again in Alexander's defence Cai knew that he often pushed himself into cuddles with the older boy because he liked the feeling of them even though Alex found them lame and girly.

"You know you can tell me if anything is wrong, don't you?" Marik told him, the soothing question in his voice rhetorical, and Cai was slightly annoyed though tried not to show it. He wasn't sure why he had wanted to hide from the nice woman, but at that moment all he had wanted to do was to stop her from looking at him and so took the chance to conceal himself behind daddy's leg, not comfortable being fawned over. Marik felt his son nod into his shoulder and smiled patently, deciding that he may as well carry Caiellis the rest of the way because it would be much faster and it would allow him to enjoy the feeling of his young son in his arms, even though it concerned him how little the boy weighed – which was a good deal more than the first time he had carried his youngest son only a month or so after his birth – and adjusted his grip as the toddler squirmed uncomfortably for a moment.

Marik let himself be moved around by his son as he walked, the boy altering the position of his dad's muscular arm to better accommodate him so that he could snuggle into the crook of it, murmuring softly, "I'm fine, daddy." The king planted a kiss atop his forehead, taking in the scent of baby boy as well as breathing in the smell of the girly shampoo that Emili used to wash him with earlier that morning before striding quickly to the library, his son leaning forward almost precariously until Marik moved him backwards slightly to prevent him from falling over, Caiellis looking like a captain directing his vessel around as they entered the vast repository of ancient knowledge within the palace that stretched far underground and contained things that only the Lucerna family were able to access – and some documents were exclusive to the reigning monarch, things that others could not be trusted with and information that could easily be wielded by the forces of darkness should it be misused.

He smiled friendlily to the aged caretaker that tended alone to the palace library as he organised some of the books again, and noted that Caiellis also gave the man a little affable wave of his own when the venerable curator waggled his wrinkled hand to the toddler, Marik recalling that his youngest son spent quite a bit of time here with his mother or Hierarch Mithres when the twenty one year old was free to teach the boy (having wanted to start mentoring the king's sons like his own former master Tybalt) and so would be well acquainted with the warm and lonely librarian that had tended the library when Marik had visited there himself as a young child to get away from his stony dad and well intentioned but irritating twin brother and had looked just as old then as he was now, which made him veritably ancient.

"Good morning, my lord," he bowed as far as his aged back and aching bones would allow him to the king, who hadn't entered the library with just his second son before unless his addled memory was making a mistake, and he shook his head slightly as the large man's visage was replaced by that of the slender and lean youth he had been in the past when he had first starting coming to read in the storage of ancient books and tomes that had been tended to by the librarian's father and his father before him, and he smiled as he saw the resemblance of Caiellis's little face to what Marik looked like in his adolescence as he mumbled distractedly, "Would you like me to make you some tea or sandwiches?"

"No thank you," Marik replied succinctly, knowing from the past that for some reason there was a small facility for making tea or coffee as well as a small kitchen within the library but supposed that it gave the old man the ability to make himself meals and vaguely recalled some texts mentioning the creation of the tiny storage kitchen as being a way in which the Lucerna family children that were too young to fight could hide below in the event of a siege of Capitalia Lux or an attack on the palace, as well as the fact that it was easy to replenish due to its proximity to the underground prestigious photo-refectories that provided the palace with its meals of the highest quality. He then added, "We've just had breakfast. But thank you for offering."

"Thank you for offering," Caiellis's soft and polite voice was an echo of his father's, and he looked up at the man who held him to make sure that he was doing the right thing, confirmed when Marik grinned down at him proudly and ruffled his medium length and vaguely shaggy curls that would become straighter in the future according to Emili, and both men smiled at each other as Marik put his son down and he began to wander further into the vast library, Lancalo not following them into the many rooms of the archives and instead staying to converse with the old curator to give him a bit of company so that he didn't feel too lonely.

The king let his little boy lead the way, gently nudging him or giving him a helping hand when his balance became treacherous and grinning as he followed him into a familiar piece of the library down a large aisle with both large walls filled almost to the ceiling with books, as for one this place had also been one of his favourite aisles to randomly walk down and was the one that he had found Caiellis and Emili in before when he went to pick Alexander up from the school located in the palace and available for the children of the noble families in Capitalia Lux. His son located a comfortable looking fortress of blankets and cushions that must have been created the last time he visited and looked up at his dad for conformation that was given when he nodded and the boy sat on the cushions.

Marik saw several children's books slotted neatly into a cleared out compartment in the bookshelves, with some ranging back hundreds of years whereas others were very new books that he had bought himself for Caiellis, and supposed that they had been left here whilst the others that were in the nursery bookshelves remained there, and picked out one of them to read to his son, one that Caiellis had often loved having read to him about the conquests of Queen Arie. It was strange; most children grew up fantasising about the heroes of the Lucerna family and reading stories of those from the royal bloodline in the past that were passed down through the generations and even from birth learning to have faith in the ruling family and the champions of the people within it, whereas Caiellis and Alexander would get older being read stories about people that were considered akin to divine beings belonging to their own family and who's ancestry could be traced directly to them. All other young boys and girls would read stories of the Lucernas of the past whilst Marik's two sons would read stories about those that they were descended from and related to, but such was the way of the Lucerna family.

Anyway, this book was made for young children and had been one that Emili had purchased for Alexander that the blonde hadn't liked very much, but Caiellis had adored it and so Marik wanted to start by reading one that he knew that his son liked. He turned back to the small toddler that looked almost drowned by the blankets (something that Hierarch Mithres and/or Emili had definitely conceived to make Caiellis appear even more adorable) and was about to shift him up slightly and sit beside him before the boy exclaimed, "No, daddy! Not that book."

"Which book do you want then?" Marik asked, trying not to let his exasperation show, and it occurred to little Cai that he had just assumed that his daddy would know exactly which book he wanted reading to him when the man hadn't ever come to the library with just him before, but even so he acted slightly petulantly and with a bit of irritation when he jumped up out of his cushioned citadel (that Marik had to admit made his frail son look safer) and pointed towards one at the very top shelf next to the one that Mithy had finished reading to him a few days ago, a history of known Second Sisterhood angels that the Hierarch had read to him to test that he wouldn't be too bored and could understand the historical texts before they progressed onto the First Sisterhood angels that Caiellis was massively excited about reading on, telling his daddy, "A Compendium of Firwst Sistewerhood Angels pwease."

"Are you sure? That books is for grown ups and you might find it very boring," Marik questioned, though he realised that there was no child friendly literature on the angels of the highest order bar the First Angel that had helped form Lucael itself and if Caiellis wanted to learn about them then that would be the easiest way of doing so, and his son scowled at him in a way that he must have copied from Emili when Marik asked his wife a stupid question, although on his young features it made him look immensely sweet instead of angry and Marik knew why most of the people that met his second son wanted to baby him, and the toddler huffed and crossed his arms stubbornly, frowning deeply at his father as the man rose his hands to placate the boy, "Ok, ok, I'm getting it. I just think it will be a bit complicated and dull for you, that's all."

"Mithy read the Second Sistewerhood one to me," Caiellis stated, and Marik nodded in reply, quite taken aback at the fact that his youngest was perfectly fine with understanding the material of the older and adult books, though he presumed that the young Hierarch had diluted the words and hadn't just read straight from it, showing the youngest Lucerna the detailed pictures that became even more breathtaking when powered with mana (almost as brilliant as the ones inside of the Codex Angelica were). Anyway, that was what he was planning to do, though in now way had he been expecting to have to read adult books to his son and would definitely cut out some of the more brutal sections detailing the power of the angels, and he settled beside his book with the ornate tome in his hands, preparing his reading voice that hoped would spark Caiellis's imagination and help him to visualise the words he would be saying, and asked, "Which one do you want me to tell you about first?" he asked his son, who was snuggling up in his warm sanctuary despite the fact that it was morning and most children his age would be bouncing off of the ceiling and walls at this time, and the boy smiled sweetly at his dad and responded, "Tell me about your angel, daddy. Pwease." He added after a moment's delay, as if suddenly remembering that he should use manners when asking for things from people, and Marik chuckled softly to himself, having anticipated Caiellis asking about his own angel first but instead wanting to know about the one that his daddy used. One day Marik would show his youngest son Akroma so that he could form his own opinions on the Angel of Wrath (as Alexander had already seen the awe inspiring seraph of light on a few select occasions), but for now he contented the boy with a description of her that failed to mention her coldness and sometimes terrifying lack of emotion that nevertheless made her a perfect servant of light and one of the most powerful First Sisterhood angels.

The two sat for a while together, with Marik answering the inquisitive questions posed to him by his wide eyed and impressed son that became more excited and animated the longer they remained with each other. The king wrapped an arm around his youngest son's slight shoulders as the boy snuggled up closer to him, glad that his daddy was reading to him and that he was responding to the questions in a way that made sense to Caiellis as well as didn't dumb it down too much like others made the mistake of doing. Marik was quite astonished at the toddler's patience and capacity for learning, as when on a whim he quizzed the boy about Aurelia the Warleader that inhabited Alexander at the moment and would protect his eldest boy well, Caiellis had correctly replied to each of the (admittedly not perplexingly difficult) queries directed towards him about the knowledge that the monarch of the Kingdom of Light had just imparted upon him.

"Daddy?" Caiellis asked, his green eyes reflecting his insatiable inquisitiveness that was redolent of how Alexander had been in the past but yet quite different, though Marik was sure that both his children had asked questions difficult for their parents to answer before (he just hadn't been there if Caiellis had), and the youngest of the brothers didn't ask for things that he knew he wouldn't get (such as a puppy, which to his credit Alexander hadn't pestered him about ever since his baby brother was born), probably because he had already realised from watching his sibling that they wouldn't be overindulged and that tantrums would get him nowhere, not that he had ever acted up before.

Apart from his fragility that scared his parents every day and the angel that had selected him as her second Summoner, Caiellis was pretty much a model child, but Marik knew from his past to not compare his sons (especially because of the age gap which would mean that Caiellis would naturally be at a disadvantage should they be judged against each other physically) and Emili had always told him not to do it as well, and besides Alexander's occasional childish rebellion was just as endearing as Caiellis's craving for knowledge and constant questions that Marik had been subjected to now. It seemed that once the boy broke out of his shell as it was, then once he was comfortable in the presence of others he would begin to inquire about a multitude of different things his dad was only too happy to cater for. Marik replied, relaxing further out on the cosy but not suffocating pile of cushions and blankets surrounding him and his baby boy and throwing his arm around the youngster again, "Yes, Caiellis?"
"Can you tell me about my angel now?" the boy inquired, his eyes wide and eager and Marik repressed a sad sigh, aware of how perceptive his little boy was and that he had the ability to pick up on a lot of things – just like his brother and mother, whereas Marik was sure that he himself wasn't good at detecting emotions from eyes or actions alone. He had been dreading this question since the second his son wanted to know about First Sisterhood angels, and closed the book as he already knew that the single page on the Angel of the Black Sun would be inadequate for his son. He looked the boy deep in the eyes, gulping nervously inside as his mind worked in overtime to invent a believable story that would satisfy the boy's curiosity but also not make him too suspicious that his dad was telling him lies.

"Pwease," Caiellis added after a short moment, knowing that his mummy wanted him to say the word when he asked for things so that his demands weren't so abrupt and offensive, and it was the please that did it in for Marik, who was considering distracting the boy so that they didn't have to go over the issue and so he didn't have to deceive his innocent baby that did not deserve his lies but was too young to handle the truth. He leaned in closer to the boy, making sure that his eyes conveyed a seriousness that only a father could when speaking to his son, and Caiellis resisted the temptation to hold his breath at the dramatic motions, instead settling on leaning closer excitedly as well.

It was all Marik could do not to chuckle at the way that his baby moved his head closer to his dad's like the two were politicians from another nation discussing a scandalous conspiracy, but he made sure that he was firm as well as comforting when he placed his hand on his youngest son's small cheek, the boy closing his eyes for a second at the touch as he rested his tiny and slightly chubby (which was an extremely good sign) hand on his father's much larger own, the touch soft and gentle. Marik then murmured, "Your angel is very special, Caiellis. She is called the Angel of the Black Sun, like the Black Sun of your birthmark here, and is a very unique seraph to have. She hasn't been seen very much, but the times that she has she has always protected the people."

Marik felt like he was spewing bile at his son and the words were like acid in his mouth, but he didn't want to make him feel like a pariah at such an early age and knew that if he told Caiellis that his angel had been the cause of one of the largest Lucaelian disasters in history and part of the reason for the civil war over one hundred years ago that, that she had murdered thousands of innocents under the orders of the most insane and evil Lucerna king to ever blight the holy throne and that she had only ever served him, then his little boy would begin to think that he was evil and feel like everyone would hate him because of it, and Marik personally wanted both his sons' innocence to be preserved for as long as possible. He would deliver the truth to Caiellis when the boy was ready for it and knew that it didn't mean that he was evil or cursed, but right now at the age of two his youngest son was in no way prepared for the truth, the awful knowledge of what his angel had done.

"It is a special gift to you, Caiellis, that one day you will use to help and protect other people," Marik told him, gently brushing the mark on his son's cheek as the boy stared at him in wonder, and the king knew that his words were infused with emotion that he hoped his son wouldn't understand, a deep sadness that his fragile baby boy would have to contend with mistrust and suspicion because of something that he had no association with and something that he didn't choose to happen. However, that didn't mean that the king wouldn't do everything in his power to make his second son have a fantastic life and a brilliant childhood just like his eldest would as well if he had anything to do about it, the Angel of the Black Sun and the misgivings of the Lucaelian people. He closed his eyes for a moment, before reopening them and staring deep into Caiellis's green orbs as if silently telling the boy that he would be alright in his father's care and that he wouldn't let anyone hurt him even as he smiled warmly and told him that the angel he possessed was just as good as his father's and big brother's, just wasn't known as well as Akroma or Aurelia.

"Why are you lying to me, daddy?" the innocent voice of his youngest son broke into the reverie that he had fallen into, his eyes doleful and full of childhood purity and such utter seriousness that Marik almost forgot he was talking to a two year old boy instead of a teenager or even an adult like himself, and it was with great difficulty that the king of Lucael concealed his shock at the boy's surprisingly accurate words that pierced to his heart.

He was the parent in this situation, and it was his job to make sure that his son thought that he was safe and protected and that he wasn't inferior to anyone because of his First Sisterhood Summoning, he was just startled that his baby had easily seen straight through his protective lies. Marik held the boy's inquisitive gaze firmly, pulling his hand away from his slightly gaunt cheek and placing it on his small shoulder instead, curling it protectively round his head and the top of his neck and hiding his shock so that Caiellis didn't have his words confirmed, as the way the boy was looking suggested that he wasn't entirely sure whether his dad was telling the truth or not despite having no cause to suspect that he wasn't. Nonetheless, his son's eyes reflected an intelligence far beyond his couple of years spent living, a kind of haunting version of the child wisdom that Alexander had displayed before.

"I am not lying to you, Caiellis," Marik told him, tinting his voice with a minute slice of sternness but mostly suffusing it within a solicitous parental tone that nevertheless brooked no dissent or disagreement, gazing deep into the boy's emerald green irises and hoping that his son would be satisfied by the fact that even thought that he was telling the truth – Caiellis would use his angel to protect the people, he wouldn't turn into another insane and narcissistic Xarius and the Angel of the Black Sun was a gift to him from the heavens, albeit a double edged gift that could serve to detriment him just as much as it would aid him. He could see the "gears" in Caiellis's mind twirling as his mother so often put it when he was puzzling over questions more suited for those at least two years older, Emili so proud of both of their children just as Marik was, and he cocked his head to the side, an expression of deep thought heavily reminiscent of the ones that Marik's beautiful and insightful wife often pulled, something that both his sons had inherited from imitating her but one that Caiellis did with much more similarity to Emili's.

The silence drew on for around a single minute as Caiellis considered his daddy's words and the man gently stroked the back of his head with his large hand, before Caiellis's cute face little face broke out in a wide smile and he replied happily, the earlier haunting and almost mournful look to his eyes that no two year old should feel now gone and replaced by love and cheerfulness, "Ok, daddy!"

Marik pulled his son into his arms once again as he breathed a sigh of relief inside, uncomfortable with the topic, especially with his youngest son who it directly affected, and planted another kiss on his head, stroking his shaggy and unruly curly hair that ideally needed cutting but Marik wasn't too bothered since his youngest didn't have to fight at all, and the boy wrapped his tiny arms around the king's broad chest as far as they could go, flashing his adorable dimples at his father and pressing his head into his solid chest. Marik wanted to hold the moment forever, having not been able to embrace with his youngest son that often, and the only things that could have made it better would be the presence of Emili and Alexander, although the embrace shared by dad and youngest son was special and something Marik would treasure forever within his heart.

They sat on the soft and fluffy blankets like that for a while, each revelling in the other's company silently as Marik wondered what he had done to deserve such a fantastic wife and wonderful sons, three blessings upon his life that he would preserve for as long as he lived and would give his life a thousand times for in a heartbeat, until Caiellis started squirming restlessly in his arms and he placed his youngest son gently on the fortress of blankets and pillows that must have been created by Hierarch Mithres and Emili together as it encompassed facets of what both would have in a construction (and he knew that the Hierarch found both his sons delightfully cute in spite of Alexander's petty dislike of him because he wasn't a physical warrior).

Marik raised a sardonic eyebrow when his little boy began to climb him like one would scale a mountain, reaching out a hand to steady him when his balance looked precarious despite the fact that the only thing he could possibly fall on would be more rumpled sheets that had been pillaged from the nursery if their colour and familiarity to the twenty nine year old monarch was anything to go by, and laughed softly when the boy began to try to pull himself up onto his dad's chest impatiently, pushing away his father's aid and tickling the man with his soft brown hair, squirming and wriggling on his dad like a little luminescent caterpillar conjured by very young children that would one day unfurl its wings and grow into a Goldenglow moth, and he asked with a slight tease in his voice, "Are you being a nuisance, Caiellis?"
"No. I'm being a leonin," the two year old answered reasonably, and Marik chuckled as he remembered that despite his deep wisdom and thoughtfulness, his son was only just in the third year of his life and had every right to play around with his family and friends (not that he had any and was perfectly content with the members of his bloodline). It hit Marik with a pang of sadness that he had never playfully wrestled with his youngest son before, something that he had often done with Alexander although it was with much less regularity now that he was more busy as a sovereign and spent time with all three members of his family.

At first it had been because he had been afraid to even hold his baby boy after the ordeal that was him entering the world a month early, scared of damaging his fragile bones and somehow hurting his frail youngest, and that notion had persisted to the point where he had always been far more careful with Caiellis than he ever had been with his eldest – not that he wasn't cautious with the older one of his sons, but Alexander had always been more healthy and weighty than his brother at the younger boy's current age, and then he had been too busy for playing and messing around with his sons often so could only do it. He remembered a night only a couple of days ago where he had been throwing Alexander around playfully and tickling him, and had felt immensely guilty when he saw his youngest silently watching the two curiously but also with a vaguely lonely tint to his bright green eyes so had stopped and let the two play instead.

That meant that he hadn't bonded with Caiellis in a way that only he as a father could (as Emili had always been more of the soft one and would prefer to cuddle her sons instead of playfully wrestling with them, though she had always found her husband's antics in that regard quite amusing), although he had often seen Alexander playing with his little brother in a way that Marik had played with the blonde it wasn't the same. However, there was always time to start now, and since he had already made Caiellis know who he was now and feel safe with him, and he snorted with happiness as his son leapt off him and onto the blankets, plopping down onto all fours and demonstrating his roar, "Rawr. Rawr!"

Marik's eyes were filled with love for his son, who was in essence just a normal two year old that needed attention, love and a meaningful way to expend his energy just as much as any child did despite his self sufficiency and intelligence far beyond his two years and his role as a prince, and he laughed to the boy, "No, you aren't a leonin yet. You are just a cub, I am the leonin."

Caiellis adopted a deliberate prowl, his eyes filled with an excitement that Marik had rarely seen from his more withdrawn youngest son before as he growled playfully, and the king of five years was ready and waiting when the two year old hurtled towards his daddy and launched himself off the ground. He caught the young cub easily and used his much bigger paw to flip Caiellis onto his back and tickle his exposed underbelly, knowing that sort of technique often worked with Alexander and eager to see the response that his youngest son would give to it. The toddler shrieked happily with laughter, batting at the assaulting hand and sinking further into his father's chest as he laid down on the pillows below him and fell into the soft and plump fabric, glad that he had placed the ancient book concerning the First Sisterhood to one side before this happened and the tome got ruined, and Marik grinned widely at the infectious sound that could bring a smile to even the most dour of Lucaelian warrior veterans, pushing down the thought that it probably wouldn't even provoke a little smirk from his late father when the man had been alive as Garius would definitely have agreed to the plans of murdering the his youngest son's youngest son.

The king wrestled his son gently, laughing when the boy threw his warm and mostly insubstantial baby weight against his father again, flipping Caiellis a few more times and continuing his relentless tickling until the munchkin was puffing with exertion and laughing breathlessly, a wide smile gracing his young features as he giggled hysterically in his daddy's grip, smiling up at the loving relatively young man and melting over his chest, his baby limbs splayed in a carefree hug utterly out of place with the intensity that he had summoned up earlier in his dark green eyes. Marik was smiling like an idiot, glad that the palace library wasn't that public so that they weren't disrupting others' reading with the playing but enjoying it immensely as he jostled his son, sitting upright and placing the young boy on his lap as Caiellis regained his breath, still shivering with giggles of joy from the experience. Marik starting bouncing him slowly, enough to make it enjoyable but not too much to overwhelm the boy and allowing him to recover as he laughed happily, the sound like music to the king's ears and letting him forget the pressure placed on him if only for a moment.

Caiellis pushed himself upright so that he was sat instead of laid on his father's legs, and then leapt upwards, wrapping his arms around the back of his daddy's neck as he hugged the man. Marik felt a brush of wetness on his cheek and then the nuzzle of soft hair on his neck, and it took him a moment to realise that his son had just kissed him.

"I love you, daddy," the toddler told him sincerely, his voice still full of jubilance but more soft and genuine now, and Marik's defences melted. He had missed hearing that from his sons, missed it more than he had ever realised, and he wrapped one large arm around his son's warm body as he held Caiellis close, closing his eyes and breathing in the scent of his baby boy as he replied affectionately, "I love you too, Caiellis."

"And I'm not just saying it because Alesh says it," Caiellis then informed the king, a note of indignation creeping into his tone, and the man chuckled quietly at the notion that his son was simply repeating the words of others and didn't mean it himself, as well as the fact that Caiellis showed quite incredible (although Marik would be proud of his children no matter what they did because he was their father and they were the little monsters that he had helped create) perceptiveness in deducing that perhaps his daddy might think that he wasn't genuinely expressing his love for his father because other people said the same. The king responded fondly, "I didn't think you were."

He then opened his eyes again after the hug, and saw the young face of his eldest son peering at them somewhat shyly at the other end of the aisle of bookshelves, the blonde's cheeks slightly red and the kid was regaining his breath after most probably running here. Startled, Marik almost fell backwards in shock from suddenly seeing the six year old and almost let go of Caiellis before ensuring that he didn't drop the two year old toddler, and held his youngest in one arm while he fished the ornate chronometer that had been a gift from the then Hierarch Tybalt to his favourite student (one of the few people that had preferred Marik to Johnias). His jaw almost literally dropped when he saw that it was almost one in the afternoon and that he had spent three hours in the library reading to his second son and playing with the boy, and he then composed himself and asked, "Well, Alexander? How did it go?"

"It was really fun," the boy announced, although it was without his usual burst of enthusiasm despite the words still being sincere, just more quiet, and Caiellis, hearing his big brother's voice, spun himself around and dropped out of his father's grip, crawling forward on the blankets before pushing himself up to a standing position and using a tiny fist to brush the hair out of his eyes before declaring, "Alesh! Daddy and I were playing!"

Marik saw vaguely puzzled gratification work its way into his firstborn son's warm and fond blue eyes and it occurred to him that perhaps Alexander had been reluctant to speak because he had wanted to enjoy the sight of his dad and baby brother bonding together for once. Hmm … I guess I don't do this often enough, the king of Lucael thought, not wanting either of his sons to be surprised when he showed such outright affection – sure, he often favoured them with a small kiss, fond pat on the head or a ruffle of their hair (though he had stopped picking Alexander up as much because he was six and now had to start developing his own independence, not be coddled by his dad forever), but this was the first time ever that he had ignored Caiellis's fragility and treated him like a baby boy instead of a delicate sculpture of glass. He threw his eldest an inviting wink and reached round to tickle his youngest son in the sweet spot he had discovered around his ribs and upper tummy just to hear that delighted shriek again, saying, "Would you care to join us, Alexander?"

The talk about his first son's training could wait until they fetched something for lunch (and Marik was kind of guilty that he hadn't fed Caiellis for a while, though he had taken the bottle of water with him that belonged to his youngest and had made him drink that in breaks between the reading), and Alexander seemed to agree, grinning and willingly assisting in the endeavour of playfully tormenting his little brother who batted this new attacker with his tiny paws, deciding that it would be a good idea to demonstrate his powerful roar to this new and older cub. Marik chuckled to himself quietly; he had to admit: Caiellis made a good leonin.

"Alesh!" the boy yelled at his big brother, throwing himself at the larger boy instead as Alexander caught him and made a show of grunting at the added weight which Marik knew wouldn't be bothering his eldest son at all – it might have been if Caiellis had been a healthy weight or size for his age, but since he wasn't and Alexander had trained wielding wooden swords even at the age of six he would easily be able to carry his lightweight little brother. Alexander roared back at his brother, imitating the younger boy and making him laugh with more tickling as Marik stood up and watched the two fondly, the way that his eldest handled his youngest carefully but not enough to allow Caiellis to notice something to behold. They would need to have lunch soon (otherwise Emili would get annoyed at him, sensing that they hadn't eaten in spite of the fact that she was further into the capital), but for now Marik was content to watch his two sons wrestling light heartedly, hoping that they would never have to fight in war or be hurt in the future. He would do everything in his power to prevent that, that much was certain.

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Well exam season is pretty much in full swing now, so expect this to be the last chapter for a while until they are finished (June 19th is the last). I would like to say thank you again to my loyal readers who have stuck with me through this. I hope to have this fight concluded in the next chapter, but considering the siege of Usnaan was only supposed to take two chapters in total I could easily be underestimating the amount of time it takes.