The next phase of their plans, and it doesn't look good. For anyone.

Chapter 38: Thinking Clearly

Back at the citadel was a calm not typical of the Acheron siblings. The wounds that were left by repeated failures were given a chance to heal after their recent visit to the soothing tranquility of a time long, long ago, their usual talks of how best to stop their enemies and transform the world halted for a time, replaced by musings over the events that had taken place during the only part of their past that didn't torment them.

They recounted their adventures in the woods. Of playing hide and seek, including the time Gol had wandered the woods for a good two hours before realizing his sister had snuck back home. The rules of the game became much more strict after that. There was also the time they received one of many spankings for feeding Lurkers, a group of the things eventually becoming brave enough to wander right into the village, on the hunt for food when the siblings had been too busy with other forms of trouble to feed them one day. Not to mention the time Gol had managed to twist his back at the tender age of four when Maia pounced on him, an event he swore had resulted in his hunch, though she swore right back it was because he was old and had developed osteoporosis, despite the fact that he had always drank more Yakow milk than her. After these recollections, the Sage couldn't help but point out that Maia's pranks outnumbered his two to one. She didn't deny this.

But, wounds of the mind were not so forgiving as those of the body, and once the calm and contentment began to wear away, these wounds began to open again. Such wounds were difficult to heal, especially when what had caused them was still around. And so, thoughts once again turned to how they might best complete their plans so that the peace of long ago could once again be theirs, permanently this time. Gol wasn't yet certain of how to go about this, but he did know what their first goal should be.

"The boy and his rat," he said, from where he sat in the library, fingers laced together, hands resting on the table before him, "we must kill them, dear sister. Nearly all of our failures stem from their actions against us. There is no doubt in my mind that they survived the explosion, but once they are dead, there will be nothing left to prevent us from overtaking this ignorant world."

Maia sat in the chair nearby, legs crossed and hands running up and down the sleeves of a short coat she now wore, buttoned to the neck to hide her injuries, though whether the movement of her hands was for warmth or in a futile effort to rid herself of her scars, it was difficult to tell. "That is true, dear brother. But, how do you plan to go about this? That wretched boy is powerful," the movement of her hands ceased, instead stopping to tighten around her arms, her voice becoming low, "You know what he did to me."

"Yes, but you fought him alone when this happened. Surely he is no match for the two of us together. It was only when we combined our powers that we managed to subdue him."

Her body had since become stiff, except for the slight movement of one finger starting up again, moving as if it was somehow tracing along the ridge of one of the many scars hidden by her clothes that she really shouldn't be able to feel. It had been a week since her injuries, and the scars had begun to fade, but they had not yet disappeared, and he had his doubts that they ever would. His own attempts to heal them with Dark Eco had helped a small amount, but he simply couldn't rid her of them completely, no matter how long or how hard he tried. The one on her face he had focused on most of all, but it also remained despite his best efforts, a pale mark on the dark of her face, nearly blending in to the lighter skin, but not enough to satisfy either of them, especially when it was the one she couldn't hide. Mouth set in a tight line, she gave a single turn of her head, hair bouncing once with the movement. "We must not take him head-on, dear brother."

"If we could catch him unawares and take him out before—"

"No."

"No? Dear sister…"

"I told you, no." She uncrossed her legs and moved forward to lean against the tabletop on still-folded arms. "I'm tired of this slow pace you've been determined on keeping. We attempt to attack and overrun Haven City with the hope that they will surrender, which only ends in us wiping the place out anyway. We should have just saved ourselves the trouble and destroyed them in the first place. And keeping the boy alive to experiment on him when we could have just—"

"The experiments were just as much your idea as they were mine." He unclasped his hands, one becoming a fist, his eyes narrowing. They were not about to fight again! Not at a time like this!

Maia leaned in further. "I know that! But, it was stupid! If he was dead, I'd be—" She leaned back in her seat again, turning to face the doorway, the scar on her face no longer visible to him, though he could still see the way her mouth tightened again and her eyes closed.

"I know, dear sister. We won't make that same mistake again. This time, he will die, and then we will continue as planned."

Her face turned back to him. "No, no more of this procrastinating. The longer this takes, the more chances there are for us to fail again. We must do to Spargus what we did to Haven City."

Gol blinked. "What do you mean, dear sister?"

Her arms uncrossed, her hands moving to grasp the edge of the table, while she leaned in close to him again. "We must blow them up, dear brother. Another Dark Eco bomb, even more powerful than the first, and not only will the last resistance against us be destroyed, but the boy and his pet will be dead." She stared into his eyes throughout this, but no amusement shone in them.

He gave a shake of his head. Not Spargus. What if… "No, dear sister. We can't just destroy all who oppose us. Who will serve us when the world is ours?"

"Spargus is not the only remaining civilization on the planet. There will be others we can bend to our will. We're just taking out the biggest threats to us, all at once." She rested her elbows on the table, spreading her arms, traces of a smile beginning to return to her lips. "Don't you see, dear brother? It is so perfect. Who can stop us then?"

"Spargus is no threat. They don't have the defenses that Haven City had—"

"The warriors of Spargus were the ones who came to Haven City's aid. We would have taken that city without the robot if not for their meddling. The people of Spargus may be an even bigger threat than those of Haven City. And let's not forget, the boy is surely there. I am just as certain as you are that he survived and now rests in Spargus, preparing to come for us again. He is—"

Gol stood, pounding a fist on the table before leaning in on the palms of his hands. "Let him come, and we will kill him when he does! But, leave—"

She stood, as well. "Spargus is a threat, and the boy is a threat, and we will destroy them both! If we want to see our plans succeed, we must put an end to them before they deal even one more blow to us! They may almost be broken, but so are we, and so we must strike first, and hard!"

Throughout this, she leaned in closer, and he found them to be almost touching, nose-to-nose, her crimson eyes burning with the passion of one who had caught sight of victory on the horizon and was readying to march forward and claim it. She was breathing as heavily as him, though his own breaths came out in wheezes, while his eyes no doubt lacked the fires that hers held.

These eyes tore away from her gaze. She was right. They may have dealt heavy damage to their enemy's city and to their morale, but they, too, had been pulled down from the place of power they had originally occupied, mainly because of the boy and his rat. Nevertheless, Haven should have still been theirs. They had sent enough of their servants there to have the place overrun and under their control in days. At least, it would have been enough, if Spargus didn't come running to their side. Everything he read said that the two cities didn't get along. Spargus was built by Haven's outcasts, and yet they risked their lives for those who hated them. The boy and his pet had to go, of course, but Spargus couldn't be left standing, either. Not if they didn't want to fail yet again. They had worked so hard and suffered so much to let such a thing be their downfall. His sister's scars would be for nothing. He couldn't allow her pain to go unpunished. But…if a certain someone had made it to Spargus… Had survived the war with Haven City and its eventual destruction... If she had returned to the city in the Wasteland to recuperate along with the others…

"Brother…"

Gol's eyes returned to those of his sister's, his brow furrowed in thought, closing a mouth that couldn't find words to say, words that would make a difference. She knew, though. She knew something. He could see it in the way her eyes sharpened, focusing on his so they could glimpse through them and into his mind. She always knew. It really was like she could read his mind.

"What's wrong? You can't deny my logic. So why do you look so perplexed, dear brother?"

He turned away, facing a dusty bookcase, obscured by the dark of a waning evening, the usual end of another day, and yet causing him a strange amount of unease. He put a hand to his chest, but not to aid in his breathing. His eyes went up to see the last bit of light high above, soon to disappear with the setting sun. His chest felt tight, but not in the usual way.

"Dear sister…"

"Yes?" He heard clicking and he caught her out of the corner of one eye, stopping to one side, but keeping her distance, observing him.

"We…must not destroy Spargus." The Sage's voice was soft. "Just…trust me."

"Why? What is holding you back, dear brother?" The eyes of a hawk watched him. Or a vulture.

"Just…listen to me. We will…"

"Why?" Her voice rose above his softer tone as the last of the light slipped away from the wall. Determined steps moved her to his side, too close now, and hard eyes tried to peer into his. "Why do you deny us our victory?"

"I don't—"

"Yes. You know this must be done. But, you still insist we spare Spargus when you know that is no longer an option. Something is holding you back, and you must tell me what it is."

That's the one thing I can't do, and yet, knowing you, you won't let up until you've gotten your way. He turned his head to her, eyes half-closed, protected from the full force of her sharp gaze, he hoped. "Dear sister, would it make one bit of difference if I told you?"

Maia's eyebrows rose. "Tell me."

He closed his eyes for a moment, then, turned back to the bookcases, hand falling to his side. "Dear sister…that girl, the one that saved me a year ago…" Oh, stupid thing he was. What was the point in explaining? "She may be in Spargus."

She tilted her head, leaning around to face him more fully. "Dear brother, you jeopardize our plans for that fool?"

"I'm not jeopardizing anything, if we would just—"

She cut him off with a laugh, and he turned to her again, narrowing his eyes as he waited for her to finish.

"Dear sister, I don't see—"

She shook her head, hair swaying from side to side, her laugh ending in a most unladylike snort. "Oh, you don't, do you? You don't see how soft you've gotten."

He tried to protest, turning to face her fully, but she continued over him, "You are willing to risk our success for that dopey, pathetic girl just because she helped you out once. I should be angry, but it's really quite comical."

"Dear sister, she saved my life. She—"

Maia flipped a hand at him. "Don't be so silly. She didn't save your life. You wouldn't have died from a simple broken leg. You're tougher than that, dear brother, no matter how old and frail you've become."

"You don't understand…"

His words trailed off as she shook her head once again and came forward. He stepped back, but gave up in his efforts to keep away from her when she quickened her pace to catch up with him. She set hands on his arms, cold, despite the fact that they were no longer gloved, grinning up at him. Nothing he said would make her understand. It was just a joke to her. Something to be dismissed as easily as a joke. And it didn't help that nothing he said would make him understand, either.

What did it matter to him what happened to that fool? Surely she hated Dark Eco just as much as anyone else. Surely, though, she showed no signs of it. But, she must have, because that's what people did. That's what they were like. All of them. Even their parents and those they had grown up with and the other Sages and that boy, who had been blessed with its powers, but still hated the very thing that made him strong. It defied all logic, but if even he hated it, they all must. Even that woman. She must have. She had to.

"Oh, dear brother, you want us to succeed, don't you? You want to see this world ours, to see it transformed into perfection, just like we've dreamed of, while all those that hated us now bow down to us? You want that, don't you?" She rubbed one hand up and down his clothed arm, a mother soothing an unreasonable child.

Gol stared ahead at the space above her, eyes nearly closed, eyelids not heavy with sleep, but lacking the will to stay open, for a reason he couldn't quite place. "I do, dear sister. You know that."

"And you agree that my plan is the only way? We can't afford to leave anything to chance again. You know that, don't you?"

"Dear sister, we…"

She shooshed him, the movement of her hand ceasing, tightening on his arm in a way that said she would hear no more of his nonsense. "You've already told me of your reservations, but there is simply no other way. That girl is probably dead anyway. She didn't seem to be anything particularly special, so what are the odds she survived? It is most unlikely she's still alive, when so many others didn't live through the blast." Maia patted his arm. "That doesn't sound like you, dear brother. You are tired. You're not thinking straight."

He continued to stare ahead, the room darkening further as nightfall grew closer. Yes, that girl was probably… But, why did he feel otherwise? Why did he feel she was still alive out there somewhere? But, she may very well be dead, just as Maia said, and then they had nothing to lose. Did he anyway?

The Sage looked down as his sister gave him a gentle shake, her eyebrows rising, expression taking on the traces of being stern. "You understand me, dear brother?" The sternness quickly dissipated when she laughed. "You have grown a soft spot, like a rotten apple. We must cut it out, or else I'll be left to finish this war myself, while you sit around worrying over whether or not we might hurt someone. People get hurt in wars, dear brother. That's the way it is. As long as it's not us, that's the way I prefer it." She gave his arms one final pat, then, released him, looking up at him with a large smile on her face, causing her scar to bend. "You agree with me, don't you?"

He closed his eyes and gave a slow nod. Did they really need to go so far? Oh, but she was right, it was too late to take needless risks. If they were careless, they could still lose everything. The war was not over, and they were vulnerable. Just as much so as their adversaries. Her plan could secure their victory. Was it worth risking that for— Of course, not, why would he even consider otherwise?

Gol started as Maia spoke again. "Go to bed, dear brother. We can begin work on the bomb tomorrow. You look tired."

"I'll go to sleep later."

"Fine. Good night, dear brother."

She gave him a kiss on the cheek and walked by, heels clicking, a noise that seemed to break the silence like the tapping of a chisel to crack stone. He closed his eyes tight, the sound feeling like it was right in his head, echoing within his skull.

"Dear sister…" His voice came out like a growl, but soft, the growl of an animal trapped, but resigned to the fact that there was no escape. "If we kill this girl, the only one that has shown us any kindness despite knowing what we are, that is fine with you?"

The clicking stopped. "You'd rather fail? Many have died in this war, what's one more? As long as that one more is not one of us, of course." More clicking, and he could feel her watching him, but he didn't turn around, his eyes still closed. He did feel tired, after all, he supposed, though of a tiredness sleep may not heal.

Her voice continued when she received no answer. "Three hundred years of waiting. Remember that. I am not willing to allow three centuries of suffering to be wasted. Not when we are so close. I am shocked at your sudden display of weakness, dear brother, but I won't allow it to get in our way. If I must take over and do the rest on my own, I will. I care about you too much to let this hurt our chances. You would be grateful for this if you were thinking clearly."

She watched him a few moments longer, and then the clicking began again, growing distant, until it ceased altogether. Gol opened his eyes to darkness, the candles remaining unlit, and his hands rose to hug himself for warmth and perhaps to wipe away the feeling of his sister's hands that continued to linger on his arms.

He coughed, as the ever-present dust irritated his lungs, dust that floated in this room more than any other, dust that had previously been trapped for the Precursors knew how long in all these blasted, useless books that told him nothing except the reminder that Dark Eco was forgotten, just as his dear sister and he were forgotten, while those that hated them were written about and praised all throughout the pages of history. They had to succeed or else history would forget them again, for good this time, as he couldn't shake the feeling that this attempt, if it failed, would be their last.

But, in a world that was dead-set against them, could he kill the one person besides his sister and himself that didn't seem to fear Dark Eco? She wasn't afraid of him. She saw what he could do and knew who he was, but she wasn't afraid. Even when the stories had told her they were monsters. And Maia wanted her dead, as if she was no different from all the others. Even when he wanted otherwise.

He asked little of her, and she couldn't spare this one person? It was one thing that they killed those who stood against them. They had to. Those fools would do the same to them if they didn't kill them first. But, did they really have to kill one of the few that didn't hate them? Had his dear sister changed so much that she would go that far?

As he stared into the darkness before him, it occurred to him that, perhaps, despite what his sister had said, now was a time he was thinking more clearly than he had in a long time.

I feel particularly pleased with this chapter, and I hope you enjoyed reading it. Please review.