Death Series 5 - Unsinking, Undying

by SongOfStars

When memories are made, wounds are fresh & the roads are walked by demons waiting a long time to prey upon those who are unaware; Sherlock's life is about to take an unexpected 'turn'. Multiple pairings, see inside. (Prequel to the Death Series!) (Rated for some possible disturbing scenes such as the Titanic sinking, among other things.)

7. Chapter 7

(7) A Grove Of Mice

The falling snow was soon turning into a blizzard as Sherlock rode up to the hunting house. He trotted Nýchta around the back where a red horse was digging at the snow. He left the black stallion with it & went to the front door to find it broken open. Siger's seal-skin coat was still draped over the railing. Sherlock picked it up & put it on, then turned back to the busted door. After a slight hesitation, he went inside.

"Eurus?" Sherlock called as he moved through the house. He slipped a little & glanced down to find a lot of blood on the floor. "Eurus ..." He stood there for a moment, knowing he was too late. Moving forward again, he found her curled up on the floor of her room, crying. He went towards her.

Sensing his presence, Eurus looked up sharply. "Xanthá? No!" She got up & tried to get away from him. "Stay away! Leave now! Please!" Sherlock shook his head & stepped closer. He growled softly at her, baring fangs & showing the crimson red pupils for a moment. Eurus stared at him before sliding down the wall in a fresh wave of tears. "It was—It was ..."

"Mikró," Sherlock finished for her as he came to sit beside her & pull her into his arms. "I know. I am sorry I did not get here fast enough to stop him."

They clung onto each other, Eurus shaking with sobs & Sherlock finally letting a few tears fall as well. Eurus petted Sherlock's arm that had been damaged & was now whole, feeling the soft seal skin of her father's coat. Their father's ... coat. Their dead father. Sherlock pulled it off & spread it over both of them before pulling Eurus onto him once more. Both finally broke down as they realized that everyone was dead in some form now. The parents had become a pile of ash while the children were now even beyond the grave. Doomed forever to be a slave to blood. It took a while for either of them to stop heaving with sobs while curled up under the seal skin.

Eurus sat up & looked at Sherlock. She put a hand through his curls. "I'm glad you're here," she whispered, leaning in & giving him a short kiss on the lips. "I had hoped to see you one last time." She stood up. "But I can't live like this. I am going to go outside & end it." She turned to leave.

"That doesn't work," Sherlock muttered. Eurus looked at him, slightly confused. Sherlock stood up as well, pulling the seal skin coat on him again. "I just rode in on Nýchta. We can walk in the light. They can be with us & we won't know it. We can walk with them when we were alive & that witch doctor ... he is one of them!" Eurus gasped & put her hands to her mouth as Sherlock finished, "You saw him as well as I. In the brightness of day. It has no effect. It was a lie. I don't understand why. But the light doesn't destroy us."

"Then what will?"

"I don't really know any more," Sherlock said. He went to the pile of furs & picked up a long sharp pole leaning against the wall. "We could try this. But if the light was a lie, I'm not sure these would work." They both looked at the stake. Sherlock tipped it forward, putting the tip to her breast. "Do you want me to?" He asked.

"Will you join me in a true death?"

"Yes," Sherlock nodded. "But not right away. I wish to see Elizabet one last time & the children. They do not have to know what happened. But I need to make sure they are safe from Mikró." He put a hand on her shoulder. "Then I will fall upon this stake. We would only be separated for a short time. Elizabet is not far from us. She took the children to her parents."

Eurus nodded & stood back against the wall. "Do it!" She closed her eyes. "Do it quickly!"

"Good bye, Eurus," Sherlock whispered. He shoved forward with his newfound strength. Eurus grunted. The pole snapped. Eurus opened her eyes & put her hands up to feel the wound in her breast but there was nothing there. She pulled open her dress a little to look down. Both saw a large black bruise on her left breast from where the stake had struck fade in front of their eyes, leaving Eurus undamaged. Sherlock tossed what was left of the stake aside. "Well, that didn't work, as I knew it wouldn't."

"Then what does?" Eurus gasped, closing her dress again. "I don't want to stay this way but ... oh Xanthá! I do not want to go into the fire, either! I've had enough of pain, already."

"I do not think it is fire," Sherlock replied. "Mikró's sword destroyed one in front of us ... that night."

Eurus sent Sherlock a sharp glare as she folded her arms. She didn't feel like talking about the murder of their parents either. "He won't give it to us," she said.

"I agree," Sherlock said. "But Elizabet might have something."

"She did collect a lot of charms to protect the children," said Eurus. "But how will you get it seeing as how such charms are for monsters like us?"

"You are assuming they work," Sherlock said. "Nothing else seems to work. Those charms won't either which is why I want to personally keep Mikró away from her."

"You need to find out how to destroy ... destroy him," Eurus sighed. She rubbed her arms & turned to stumble out into the hall.

"Are you alright?" Sherlock followed her.

"Ever since he attacked me, I've been quite sore & thirsty," Eurus said.

Sherlock put a hand on her arm. "I have some of the red river for you. The Lady from the Waldheri was with the witch doctor. She gave me two vases full."

"Is she one of them?!" Eurus exclaimed.

"I am not sure," Sherlock replied. "I was told that most of that village are of the vrykólakas while others are not & instead belong to packs."

"Packs?"

"I did not bother to find out what that meant," Sherlock shrugged. "I was more concerned with finding you before Mikró did, but I failed." He headed outside, expecting her to follow.

"Xanthá," Eurus stayed on the porch as he went ahead. He stopped & turned to watch her. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?"

"When Mikró came to me," Eurus began. "I did not know what had happened. I was so relieved to see that he had not been killed in Wycoller. I just jumped onto him & he held me, told me everything was fine. But ... but then he asked about you, asked where you were." Eurus looked into Sherlock's eyes, tears streaming down her face. "I didn't know. But now, I know why he asked."

Sherlock glared at her, his vision turning her red in his eyes. "You ... "

"I didn't know," Eurus tried again. "He attacked me after I told him where you were! I'm ... I'm so sor—Xanthá?"

Sherlock had turned away & was marching towards the two horses. He began untying things from Nýchta. Eurus waited a while before going after him, her eyes watching his every move. She stood at the black horse's head while Sherlock pulled off more of the riding gear to let it drop in the snow. "You told him." He suddenly stopped, putting both hands on the horse's back.

"I didn't understand until it was too late," Eurus said.

Sherlock began pulling off the cover from Nýchta's back. "Doesn't matter. It's done. That's it. Never mind." He turned & threw the cover hard against the wall of the barn, making both horses jump & Eurus close her eyes, trying to hold back tears. He suddenly whirled around, fangs bared, eyes gleaming red. "HOW COULD YOU HAVE TOLD HI—OW!" He went very still, very fast.

They stared at each other before Eurus asked, "What just happened?"

"My back. There's something really wrong with my back," Sherlock was panting in short breaths. "Take Father's coat! Hurry!"

Eurus reached over & pulled the seal skin off. She laid it over a nearby tree branch & then turned to look Sherlock over. His clothes were slightly lifted off his back as if something was pushing out. She helped him pull his other coat off as well as the top so that he was standing in nothing but the fur riding pants in the snow. Eurus screamed.

"What? WHAT IS IT?"

"There's something coming out of your back!" Eurus gasped.

Sherlock turned his head as best possible to look over his shoulder. He could see two points almost the colour of ice, with a pale bluish tint that matched his eyes, sticking out. He blinked a few times. "Wings. Those are my wings."

"Wings?"

"Apparently, we all have them," Sherlock replied very delicately, trying to focus on controlling the pain.

Eurus stared at what looked like two icicles coming out of Sherlock's back. The snow was starting to have traces of red. "Um, Xanthá? You're leaking."

"It really aches!" Sherlock was still frozen in place. "I don't want to bring them in & I don't want to push them out any further! Ohh! Oh this hurts!"

"You said you had some of the red river to drink?" Eurus asked. Sherlock merely pointed to the two sealed vases nearby. She opened one & was instantly consumed by a desire to drink. She finished the entire vase.

"That's fine, I don't need any," Sherlock whined.

"Sorry," Eurus opened the next one, feeling much better now. She brought it to Sherlock & helped him drink a little.

"No, not helping," he groaned through gritted teeth.

"Maybe if you get them open all the way," Eurus offered.

Sherlock shook his head, licking his lips before suddenly shoving them out. He fell to his knees & screamed so loud that the horses took off to the far end of the frozen meadow. "Oh!" He gasped for air as he leaned forward, hands in the snow.

Eurus looked over his wings. "They have a lot of sharp points in them."

"Really? I never would have guessed!" Sherlock snapped as he lifted a hand & reached around. He grabbed one wing, recoiled instantly from cutting his palm on it, then tried it again a bit more carefully. He pulled the wing around to see it. After looking it over, he let it flip back behind him. "It looks like the blades of swords," he said as he stood up. He rolled his shoulders a little, trying to remove himself from the ache before turning to Eurus. "I think this is it."

"What is?"

"The sword Mikró has ... slightly rounded center, just like in my wings," Sherlock said. "That witch doctor, Merlin, has white wings. He gave Elizabet a small white lance & said it would be the only thing that would work on the vrykólakas." He moved closer to Eurus & winced as he tried to raise the wings. Despite feeling hard & sharp, they obeyed his very thought & curled around him like pliable shape metal. He took his sister's hands & pulled her around to place her next to the barn wall, then lifted one of his wing points & touched her left breast with it. "If this works ... there is no going back. They explode into ash. It is quick but ... I believe it is final."

"I know."

Sherlock hesitated, having a sinking feeling he was right. They should be destroyed but was this really their final moments? "Do you want to see yours before ... "

After a long moment, Eurus shrugged. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt."

Sherlock leaned back a little, attempting to not roll his eyes. "Mm, it does hurt."

"I mean to see them," Eurus rolled her eyes as she pushed him away. She undid the top of her dress & let it slip down to her waist before turning to press her bare breasts against the barn, exposing her smooth back to Sherlock. He took several paces backwards & watched as Eurus forced her wings out. She punched the wall in pain as they cut through.

"Silver," Sherlock said as he came back close to her.

They said together, "Shining grey."

Sherlock ran his fingertips over the membrane. "Merlin said Ishtar was nearly the same colour as me, but darker." He started stroking a silver wing ridge. "If he meant this," Sherlock shook his head. "If I find Ishtar with wings, I'll put Mikró through the fire before I destroy him!"

"Mhm," Eurus moaned. "Uh, Xanthá?"

"It hurts, I know," Sherlock pulled his fingertips along the outer ridge of her left wing, spreading some of her blood along the hard round blade.

"Uh-huh!" Eurus gasped. "Something else is going on."

"What?" Sherlock finally stopped touching her wing.

"Um well," Eurus leaned against the barn, eyes wide & slightly panting.

"What is the matter with you?" Sherlock asked.

"Give me your wing," Eurus put out a hand. Sherlock curled his right one over towards her & she began petting it.

"Oh!" Sherlock leaned over a little, hands on knees. "I know that feeling. How is this possible?"

Eurus stopped handling him. "I don't know."

"You have not yet known a man, have you?" Sherlock asked as he stood straight again.

"Oh please, let's not get into this now!"

"I'm just asking," Sherlock defended.

"I thought I was going to know one last night," Eurus muttered. "I was expecting Mikró to rape me."

"WHAT?"

"Turns out he was there to kill me, instead."

"He ... raped ..."

"Oh no!" Eurus tried to assure him. "I totally misread him. With the way he was acting & all. But no, he never actually touched me. Like that, anyway. Only killed me. Now that my head is clear, I think what he was saying to me before he bit me, he was worried someone would force me. He said he wanted to protect me from the wrong sort of man. Then he bit me. But, no. He never touched me in that way."

Sherlock put one hand to his forehead for a moment. "I certainly hope not. He does not seem the type."

"I'm fine," Eurus said. She looked at his icy wings partly sunk in the snow. The flakes had stopped & the sun was out between clouds. Despite both being only half dressed now, neither of them even felt the cold. "So," Eurus nodded towards his wings. "Is that what it feels like to be with her?"

Sherlock stared ahead at nothing, thinking of all the times he had lain with Elizabet. His eyes flicked over to Eurus & he nodded. "That's just the start but it gets better in the end."

"I've heard some people say you don't like it," Eurus said.

"I like it just fine!" Sherlock exclaimed. "I just do not understand all the fuss over the physical beauty of you women. That fades with age & is of no matter."

"Wow!" Eurus slapped him across the face. With a surprised yelp, Sherlock clutched his jaw for a moment, remembering too late Mycroft's warning. "I'm not talking to you any more AND I'm telling Elizabet what you just said!" She pulled her wings in & marched towards the house while redoing her dress.

"I'm sorry!" Sherlock called after her but he was ignored. "Uh ... aren't we supposed to destroy each other?" Still no answer. "Alright. That's not going to happen right now, is it?" He could only watch as Eurus marched up the porch steps. He stood in confusion, wondering how they had gone from trying to destroy each other to sexual play (accidental at that) to not speaking to each other in a matter of minutes. Why was he always so bad at this stuff when it came to matters of sex & love? He hurried to catch up. "That came out wrong."

"YOU BET IT DID!" Eurus stormed inside. Sherlock stood outside, psyching himself up before yanking in the wings. Once he recovered, he glanced around & noticed four more horses by the side of the house, one of which was his own mare while two others used to be the team their parents had. The fourth one was not familiar. He heard Eurus yell & went in after her. Sherrinford's cat scurried by his feet.

Sherrinford was sitting at the table in the main room. He put a hand up to stop them from coming closer. Sherlock picked up the cat. "He got you too, didn't he?" He placed the cat on the table in front of his brother.

Sherrinford looked at the two youngest ones, noting the red gleams in their eyes, letting him know. He closed his own eyes as he petted the fluffy dark gray cat. "I am not in a good place at the moment."

Sherlock moved away, pulling Eurus with him. Both looked out through the broken door over the snow, seeing the horses off to the side pawing for grass. The black stallion had sort of blended in with the forest as the long shadows stretched out from the trees. It was late in the day by now since the ride from the witch doctor's village had taken a while. Sherlock turned back to Sherrinford. "Eurus & I think we know how to destroy each other."

"Great," Sherrinford didn't care as he continued to pet the cat, pulling it close to his chest as it purred.

"I could destroy both of you & then go to Elizabet to see if Mikró has claimed her yet or not," Sherlock went on. "Once I know she is safe, I will destroy myself as well."

"I have no intention of being destroyed before Mikró is," Sherrinford snapped. "So why don't you take off after Elizabet, this instant? Right now, the only thing keeping me going is how much I hate him! I will destroy him, myself! Now get out."

"I'm sorry," Sherlock whispered. He locked eyes with Eurus who looked apprehensive. "Will you be alright with him?"

Eurus sighed heavily. "I've never seen him so mad, but I don't blame him," she said. "Go to Elizabet. There's nothing you can do here right now."

"If I appear to her in the night, she might suspect what I have become now," Sherlock said. "I will not contact her just yet, but I will watch over her, to see if Mikró has done anything. I will be back before tomorrow morning. If I ... I fly ..." Words he never thought he'd say were now spoken. "Flying should not take too long."

"Be careful, Xanthá," Eurus warned.

"Your wings look like ice," Sherrinford muttered before Sherlock could step out the door. He let the cat go & reached over to pull a small pile of chains closer.

"Mine are silver," Eurus tried after a moment of silence went by.

"I know," Sherrinford began pulling the chain apart to lay it neatly across the table. It was short & had shackles on it. "I saw you both out by the barn before I came inside."

"Have you checked yours, yet?" Sherlock asked, looking at the strange contraption Sherrinford had.

"No & I don't care," Sherrinford shot at him. "All I want is to rip Mikró apart. He can't hide forever. He'll come here, eventually."

"Why do you have this?" Sherlock's eyes roamed over the chain as he reached out to touch it.

"Don't!" Sherrinford shoved Sherlock's hand away.

Sherlock continued to look the thing over, noting several marks on it. "Those are scorch marks," he said. Sherrinford didn't answer as he stared ahead at nothing. Sherlock's lips barely formed Sherrinford's name, but he still saw the gesture.

"It's ... one of theirs," Sherrinford admitted. "Our ... our Father's."

Eurus screamed in surprise. "Why did you bring that here?" She demanded.

"I have a use for it," Sherrinford snarled. "I suggest you leave it alone!"

"Oh, Theós!" Eurus turned away. Her eyes landed on three stone urns she hadn't noticed before. Expecting more blood, she went towards them.

"It isn't what you think," Sherrinford said. "What's in those urns is all that's left of our parents & uncle. I found his body, so I threw it into the nearest fire."

Sherlock wavered on his feet before sitting down quickly on the floor. "You brought their ashes here?"

"We can bury them on the hill out there," Sherrinford said.

Eurus looked over the urns. "At least we know our Uncle isn't roaming the land as a monster."

"He wasn't bitten so I don't think he would have," Sherrinford said. "But we can't be too sure, so I burned him anyway, just in case." He pushed Siger's chains aside & leaned both arms onto the table to put his head in his hands.

Sherlock went outside & looked around for the second vase. He found it by the barn & picked it up. It was still mostly full, so he brought it into the house & handed it over to Sherrinford. "This was given to me by the Lady," he began. "I had two vases full but Eurus finished one. It will help."

"I am not drinking that!" Sherrinford glared.

"While my children yet live, I insist that you do," Sherlock replied with a hint of warning in his voice. "Or else, you will not survive to see the end of Mikró, let me assure you! My children are far more important than your bruised emotions!"

Eurus gasped. "Xanthá!" She exclaimed in disapproval.

"Fine," Sherrinford didn't feel like arguing. He took the vase & emptied it in one long gulp. He set it aside. "Happy? Now leave me alone!"

Sherlock shared a look with Eurus before he went back outside & spread his wings. He headed straight up, then looked down on the land for the first time, seeing it darken. The distant sea twinkled in the dying light. Sherlock looked towards the forest & closed the wings, allowing himself to drop towards the trees. As he got closer, he opened them again, catching an updraft which sent him higher than he had planned. He flapped wildly, trying to get out of it, which made him spin. Sherlock closed the wings again & let himself fall. After about four ups & downs, he figured out how to simply fold them along his sides to drop quickly instead of having to feel the cutting every time. He saw the watch fires in the hilltop village & dropped into the trees. Grabbing a branch, he was able to climb down without using the wings. His first flight was better than Mycroft's, but he still needed to learn how to glide & land.

At the moment however, he was more concerned with Elizabet. Sherlock hurried along the trail to the village & then swerved off to the side. Sneaking around the outer edge, he eventually found the home of her parents. Staying in the trees, his vision could easily see her sitting in the main room with the fire on. Her father was on the porch at the moment, checking the skies, before going inside & closing the door, blocking Sherlock's view. He sat down under the tree, keeping his eyes on the area around the house in case Mycroft showed up. So far, they all seemed to be fine, but something was not quite right. It took him a while to realize that he had not seen Elizabet's mother by the fire with her. The children not being there was understandable as they had probably gone to sleep much earlier. But where was Elizabet's mother? It was quite possible she had gone to bed earlier as well. For now, the more important question was where was Mycroft?

The cave Mycroft had holed up in had gotten darker as the night came on. He had hidden from the sun all day, not yet realizing he didn't have to & had fallen asleep behind the wooden panel he had pulled up in the wee hours of the previous morning to avoid the light. He woke up quickly, his keen hearing picking up the sounds of a hunting party moving in the early night.

Mycroft jumped up & stepped backwards to the far end of the cave. He paced, not liking being inside such a narrow space. He had always felt uneasy since he had come here to hide from the day but couldn't understand why. He heard the hunting party coming closer & had never felt more trapped than he did in this moment. Only one kind of hunting party went out at night & every last instinct inside him told him that he was now the prey. He kept his eyes in the direction of the entrance & soon saw flickers of light beyond the panel. It was pulled away to let the light of several torches stream in on him. He couldn't help it. Survival instincts kicked in & he hissed, baring fangs.

Tobias showed up in the firelight, looking in at him. "Found him," he said to someone off to the side.

Alright, this was it. Either destroy or be destroyed & Mycroft knew he deserved the latter. He hissed again & his thought turned to his wings. He wouldn't open them in here as the cave was narrow but if he could drive them back a little first, he would have a better chance.

Tobias looked at him again. He didn't even seem afraid. "Come out," he spoke softly as if talking to a skittish horse. He even moved aside to give Mycroft some room.

It had to be a trick, but Mycroft could already feel some sharp pains in his back. Just a few steps out & he could cut them through. Hissing madly, he jumped forward towards Tobias, challenging him. Tobias moved back, making Mycroft follow another pace. Mycroft bared fangs at him in a soft growl.

"Easy, Choráfi."

Mycroft gave up the fight right then & there, looking around. That was the voice of the Lady. He locked eyes with her & they gazed at each other for a long moment. She got down from her horse & moved closer. No, not her! Anyone but her. "Stay away from me!" Mycroft ordered, backing up against the rock. He knew she was here to destroy him. He had seen her take down others of the undead & now it was his turn, but he still worried that he might be able to attack her, something he didn't want & hoped that any of his new-found instincts wouldn't want either & try to take over.

"Calm down." She moved closer anyway, not listening. Mycroft's glare turned red & he hissed at her in warning. She didn't even blink. "Who did this to you?"

"I will kill you!" Mycroft glanced sideways to Tobias & then looked back at the Lady. "Or worse!"

"No, you won't," the Lady said.

"I am of the vrykólakas, now!" Mycroft shot at her, trying to drive her back.

"I know," she said. "You left your little brother in quite a state. I was there."

"You were?" Mycroft looked at the ground, not meeting her gaze. "Did you destroy him as you have now come to destroy me?"

"I'm not here to destroy you," she answered.

"I have seen you destroy the likes of me, before," Mycroft said. "Why stop now? I am trying to hold back. You should finish me while you still have a chance. I did not realize you were in the witch doctor's village," he added, feeling a sadness. Sherlock would most likely have been ended if this woman was there. She slayed his kind without remorse. "You must have destroyed Xanthá when you found him."

"I have not."

"You haven't?" Mycroft didn't understand what would make her hesitate.

"Xanthá is ... well, you ruined your family," the Lady began. "It is hard to say how Xanthá is, at the moment. He is certainly displeased with you."

"I had to give them some power to protect themselves," Mycroft said. "That vrykólakas, with wings like corn's silk threatened them all, especially my sister. He turned me."

"I thought as much," the Lady sighed. "But that is not how things work."

"I turned them all," Mycroft admitted. "They have wings & teeth to defend themselves against him, now."

"No, Choráfi," she sadly shook her head. "You have made them weak & vulnerable to him."

"Weak?" Mycroft glared at her. Micah had called him weak.

"He is about two thousand years old," the Lady said, making Mycroft gape at her. "The older a vrykólakas is, the stronger they are. It will be many an age before any of your family can match the power he currently has & he will always be stronger than you. It will be hard to take him down without some sort of strategy!" It was her turn to glare at him. "What have you done?"

Mycroft stared in horror at her. The fact that Micah had tricked him cut him worse than his wings. He dropped to his knees & leaned over, putting his hands on the ground in front of her feet. The Lady nodded to someone with her & suddenly, that weird rope was thrown over him. Mycroft quickly pushed himself back onto his knees, hissing in surprise through gritted fangs. The Lady used that to her advantage & pulled the other end of the rope across his chest, binding his wings. Mycroft watched her as she returned to her horse & got on.

"Get him up," she said.

Tobias came to his side & attempted to help him stand. Mycroft growled at him.

"That's quite enough, Choráfi!" The Lady ordered & Mycroft could hear the slight edge in her voice. She was mad at him. "Just come quietly. There is little you can do now."

Mycroft believed it. Try as he might, he could not summon forth his wings. Tobias held one end of this strange rope, staying close to Mycroft's left side. On the right, Johaiñe held the other end of the rope that was now coiled around Mycroft's body. They firmly led Mycroft forward, following behind the Lady's grey horse.

It was a long march back to wherever they were taking him, but Mycroft didn't bother to fight them. He felt powerless without the use of his wings but for some reason, he felt safe with them. The Lady herself had said she wasn't going to destroy him, but if not that, then what did she want him for?

Mycroft was brought into the village of the witch doctor & placed in the medicine hall, still stained with Sherlock's blood from his attack on him earlier. The rope coiled around him was also looped around his wrists, tying his hands behind him. Tobias & Johaiñe gave their ends to the Lady & left her alone with him. While the Lady attached the ends to poles on either side, securing him in place, Mycroft looked around, calculating an exit route before turning his gaze back to her. Someone else came in & gave her a large vase. A quick sniff told Mycroft it was filled with something he was starting to want again.

"Drink this," the Lady ordered, bringing the rim of the vase to his lips to help him drink. "Once you're settled, we can talk about releasing your wings."

"I could kill you with those," Mycroft said in a low voice between drinks.

The Lady helped him finish the vase of blood before setting it aside. "I'd like to see you try."

They glared at each other but Mycroft found he couldn't hold her gaze & so he looked at the empty vase instead. "Where is Xanthá?"

"He went to your family's hunting house to find your sister," the Lady answered. "I gave him two vases full of the red river for the journey."

Mycroft stared at her. "You let him go?" He had expected Sherlock to sneak out ... but he had WALKED out of here?

"Really," the Lady raised her brow. "Are you surprised?"

"Yes," Mycroft admitted. "Usually everyone tries to destroy things like us." He scanned her over again. She had been in the direct light countless times, so she could not be like him, but how in Hades did she know so much about the vrykólakas? "Who are you?"

"That's not your concern."

"What are you?"

"That's not your concern, either!"

Mycroft let out an annoyed breath. It was frustrating when the Lady was angry with you & she appeared to be quite livid. He tried to speak again but she cut him off.

"Did you touch those children?"

Mycroft blinked at her. "What?"

"Xanthá's children! Did you go near them after you were turned?"

"No," Mycroft replied. "Not y—mm!"

The Lady had clipped him across the mouth, shutting him up. "I don't want to hear another word about it! Don't go near them! They will never grow up if you do!"

"What do you mean?"

"You're dead, Choráfi!" She shot at him. "All the vrykólakas are! You're also now an immortal being. Can you imagine being stuck inside a baby's body for the rest of eternity?"

Mycroft was once more gaping at her. "Did you just say ... immortal?"

"That's all you heard?" The Lady snapped at him. "Listen very carefully. You & your kind are dead! It is bad enough for adults to be stuck like this, but a small child should not have to suffer! Especially down through the epochs of time when they are stuck in a tiny body forever! Do not go near those children or I will destroy you, myself! You know I can." Once more, Mycroft couldn't hold her gaze. He looked at the bloodstained ground as he rolled his shoulders. The wings inside him were really starting to bug him. The Lady picked up the empty vase & went to the door. "I will leave you alone for a time," she opened the door. "You need to think about the mess you made!" She stepped into the night & slammed the door shut, leaving him in near darkness save for the small fire at one end.

Mycroft looked around again, wondering how to get out of this. He also realized that he didn't like having her mad him but had no clue how to fix that. What he had done was not reversible & now that she had told him that turning what was left of his family had left them even more vulnerable, he wondered what could be done to protect them. Like Eurus, he wished he was in a nightmare & would wake up to find both his parents & his uncle alive & well & no one with wings or fangs, but he knew that was a fantasy. The darkness would be his reality forever now. Oh & bonus, he along with his two brothers & sister, were apparently immortal now. Mycroft was still trying to wrap his head around that one. Not once did he consider the notion that he was being lied to. Despite everything, Mycroft knew he could trust the Lady in what she said. Besides, what reason was there for her to lie about it?

He wiggled his shoulders again & then turned his head to hiss at the stupid rope as if that helped. If only he could get it off! He looked at the door, hearing it open & smelling that delicious scent again. The Lady had brought in another vase. She came upto him & set it on the ground in front of him.

"If you stay calm, I'll take that rope off you," she said.

"What is this thing?" Mycroft asked even though he knew that she didn't bother answering any of his questions.

"It's an unnatural metal that has to be made," the Lady surprisingly answered, going to one side to untie the rope. "It works against your wings if they are still inside. Wings are some sort of liquid when inside you." She moved to the other side to untie that end. "Had you managed to form them before we put this rope on you, it would not have worked. It only works if the wings are not open." She reached around him to start unwrapping it. She was so close to his chest now as she put her arms around to undo the loops & Mycroft softly sniffed the side of her neck, detecting a sweet scent of honey. She finished removing the rope from him & stepped back to start rolling it up. "We call it Mithril."

"Mithril," Mycroft repeated. He watched her fold the rope up. She finished re-coiling it & laid it aside before looking at him. They were once more just gazing at each other & Mycroft hoped she would stop being mad at him now. "You're not even afraid of me."

"I told you," she said. "Few things ..."

" ... scare you," Mycroft finished for her.

"You are not one of those things," she continued.

"I should be," Mycroft said. He picked up the vase & drank about half of it. "How did you get this?"

"We have ways of obtaining the red river without killing innocent people," the Lady said, watching him finish. "Just like the vrykólakas, mankind has plenty of good people but also a lot of bad ones. We go after the bad ones, unlike Drákoulas who kills anyone he sees. He loves death & destruction & is a terror not only to mankind but also for everyone."

"Míka mentioned him," Mycroft said, putting the empty vase aside. "While he was killing me. They are both bad."

"Míka is not like Drákoulas," the Lady said. "He was turned by Drákoulas for fun. But Míka has a family & to keep them safe, he decided to bow to Drákoulas. Like you, Míka sought to give his family protection & turned them, but Drákoulas does not care what you are. Only that he can kill you or destroy you & for him, it is all for his amusement."

"Amusement?" Mycroft gasped.

The Lady nodded. "Both are dangerous, but for different reasons. Drákoulas is deranged whereas Míka is very similar to you in that he is trying to protect those close to him, but chose a very wrong path."

"If everything you have told me is true, then I have chosen the wrong path as well," Mycroft said, licking one side of his lips to clean off some blood.

"Yours can be corrected," she said. "You are all dead now but many in this village are. Perhaps if you would join us here ..."

"I do not think my path can be corrected," Mycroft disagreed. "There is a reason Míka attacked me. I had a sword of his that could destroy his kind. Theós & I had past close to Míka's home. A young woman came out to us, attacking us. I put the sword to her breast & she became as ash. Another woman came after me. Her mother. I put that sword through her as well, but then I tried it on Míka ... it did not work!"

The Lady's eyes went wide. "You destroyed his—oh Choráfi!" She put her hands to her face in horror. "That will make him come after you. He'll come for you all! You have to find your brothers & sister. You must bring them here!"

"You would allow me to leave?" Mycroft asked.

"You're not our prisoner," the Lady replied. "We brought you here so we could quench your thirst before you started attacking innocent people." She gave him a pointed look. "Like children." Mycroft rolled his eyes as she went on. "You should go to your hunting house. Bring them here." She took his hand & pulled him to the door. After opening it, she led him into the snowy dark street & upto a house. They went inside. "Wait here," she ordered, pushing him to a chair near the door. She disappeared deeper into the house for a bit & when she returned, she carried another full vase that was sealed. Giving it to him, she said, "That is enough for a day. When you need more, think of us first. The sooner your family come here, the better. It will be safer for everyone."

Mycroft took the vase & stood up. "They will not be pleased to see me."

"It doesn't matter right now," the Lady said. "It is very dangerous for them to be left alone out there. Bring them here as quickly as possible."

They went outside & Mycroft stepped into the street. He glanced at the dark sky, several stars twinkling in the cold he could no longer feel. "I've not had much success in flying," he said.

The Lady laughed softly. "It takes time. Keep trying. You will get it some day."

Mycroft groaned as he pushed his wings out. He took off for the sky & attempted a hovering flight for a bit before trying to drop down. He was flying similar to what Sherlock had done & slowly, it was getting easier. He still worried about the landing though & attempted to drop into a large pile of snow. Or so he thought. It was actually a hidden boulder & Mycroft slipped right down to the ground, clutching the sealed vase to his chest in protection. He was close to the hunting house now & stayed in the trees, watching it, knowing that Sherlock & Eurus at least would most likely be there. He stood there, leaning against one tree for a long time, knowing he would have to go in soon before the morning came. He knew he should let the morning claim him but they had to be warned about Micah first. After that, it didn't matter what happened to him.

How was he supposed to face them now? Would they even listen to him? He had thought they could defend themselves against Micah, but he still believed everything the Lady had told him. Age made one stronger? How could that be? He set the vase aside & watched in some amazement as Sherlock flew in to drop into the snow. Sherlock landed on his feet but then toppled over, wings all askew. Like Mycroft's new instincts, Sherlock was now hissing at the situation before picking himself up to enter the house. Mycroft's enhanced hearing perked up as he heard voices once Sherlock was inside. Sherrinford & Eurus were both in there with him & he also heard the meow of a cat. Mycroft sighed as he stepped out into the opening. He had to at least try to warn them. Just do that & then leave. He doubted they would welcome him back any time soon, if ever. He started for the door.

As he got to the steps, the door opened & Sherlock came out. They stared at each other before Sherlock shook his head & said, "Don't you dare come any closer."

Mycroft took a step back. "Xanthá ... I—"

Sherlock came down the steps & strode upto Mycroft. Sherlock punched Mycroft so hard, it made him go down to one knee as he clutched his broken nose. "Did you go near Elizabet?" Sherlock demanded as he stood over Mycroft, glaring red at him.

"N-no!" Mycroft slowly released his nose as it healed.

Sherlock snapped it again. "Stay away from her!"

"Xanthá ..." Mycroft was once more holding his nose.

With another shake of his head, Sherlock closed his eyes for a moment. "You are dead to me! To us all! How DARE you come back here?!"

"I have to warn you," Mycroft began as he lowered his hands again.

"Warn me? About what? You?" Sherlock snapped. "You've done enough!"

"You don't understand!"

"Most of my family died within two days!" Sherlock cut him off. "Our uncle was run through with a sword. Our parents were burned before our eyes. Don't even get me started on Trefor! He is probably walking as an undead monster now & then YOU!" Sherlock leaned over hands on knees, pulling in a sharp breath. "Ohh you!"

The door opened & Eurus came running out. "You need to go!" She snapped at Mycroft through tears. "I never want to see you again! You're not our brother any more!"

"I'm so sorr—"

There was a vision as if a Phoenix exploded near them & a scream of rage. Eurus & Sherlock were thrust sideways into the snow while Mycroft was snatched up & dragged down the length of the meadow. He opened his own wings in defence as the pair of them rolled over each other in the snow, turning it red with blood spray from not only their wings but also wounds they were inflicting on each other in a mad fight.

Sherrinford got the upper wing since his were larger & he soon had Mycroft pinned under him. "I can't believe you'd show you face right now!" He hissed through gritted fangs before backhanding Mycroft hard across the face. "Do you have any idea what you did to us?" He grabbed Mycroft by the hair & yanked him up before throwing him hard against the tree.

Mycroft felt the thick branch snap against his spine as he grunted with the force & toppled over to land face first in the snow. He rolled over to see the great wings Sherrinford had. He wondered again for a second what was up with all these colours but Sherrinford had pounced on him once more, wrapping his fingers around Mycroft's throat so hard that he made him choke. "T-Theós! Please wai—"

Sherrinford punched Mycroft's jaw, shattering it. He didn't wait for it to heal as he punched it again a moment later. "Beg all you like!" He snapped. "It won't help you now!"

"Just let me say one thing!" Mycroft tried. He grunted as Sherrinford's fist connected with his ribs.

"You've just said it!" Sherrinford got up, pulling Mycroft with him. He shoved Mycroft against the tree trunk. "You have no idea what I'm going to do to you right now! I don't even know what I'm going to do to you right now, but I can promise you two things: I will enjoy it. You won't!"

Mycroft pulled his wings in & stopped resisting. He was already nearly healed from the well-earned beating Sherrinford had given him. "Alright. Do what you have to do. But hurry. There's not much time left. It's nearly morning."

"Oh it is, isn't it?" Sherrinford purred. He hauled Mycroft into the middle of the meadow in front of the house. The remnants of a tree stood there, its branches shorn off by Sherrinford's wings. "I got this tree ready especially for you!" He pulled out the shackles from under his torn coat. "These were our Father's the other night!" He began twisting the chain around the tree trunk before shoving Mycroft's wrists into the round binds above his head. "Let's wait for morning, shall we? I don't think your wings will help you much since the tree is rather thick & you'd have to try wrapping them around to cut yourself out, but I'll watch from the porch in case you do try to escape."

"I know I deserve this, Theós," Mycroft said. "I won't try to escape but you must listen to me!"

"I'll never listen to another word you say, again!" Sherrinford punched Mycroft in the stomach, making him try to double over but he couldn't since he was tied. Sherrinford turned away & headed for the house, his large wings sweeping up the snow.

"Míka will kill us all!" Mycroft began talking quickly before he lost his chance. "I wanted to protect you from him. But it isn't enough! You need to go to the Lady or the Waldheri or the witch doctor now! Before Míka finds you & kills you! Please just go! That's all I came back for, to tell you that!"

"Whatever!" Sherrinford snapped. "Traitor!"

Mycroft groaned in frustration as he heard Sherrinford march into the house & the other two try to talk to him in an attempt to calm him down. It was all over now. At least he had said what he had come here to say. All he could do now was hope they would leave & quickly, before Micah would find them. He banged the back of his head against the rough tree trunk before looking up at the sky. The stars were fading now. Mycroft closed his eyes, feeling a few tears fall. As he looked to the sky again, he could see it was getting lighter. He looked at the house, hoping to see the three of them one last time, even if they did hate him now, but it seemed as if he was left alone in his final moments. After watching the broken door for a while, hoping to catch a glimpse of them, he gave up & stared down at the ground around him, stained red with blood from both him & Sherrinford during their fight.

This was certainly the end now. Mycroft wondered what it felt like to burst into ash, assuming that's what the daylight did. Would it be as quick as getting speared by strange swords or would he burn like their parents? He blinked & lifted his head, realizing he had dozed off & suddenly, he found himself staring into the brightness of day. He closed his eyes & waited. After a few moments, he looked around, wondering why nothing was happening. The sun was directly on him & he should be a pile of ash by now.

Mycroft looked to his right to see two horses standing together. His eyes drifted to the sparkling ocean before he looked up at the sky again, seeing a few clouds gather. "Oh," Mycroft sighed, realizing that it had all been a lie. The undead could walk in the sun! He also understood that Sherrinford, Sherlock & Eurus already knew this as he looked back at the house to find the two younger ones glaring at him from the porch while Sherrinford was marching out to him.

"Had you going for a bit, didn't I?" Sherrinford taunted as he stood in front of Mycroft & crossed his arms.

"Just a bit," Mycroft admitted in a low voice. Another blow landed on him. "Theós, please!" Mycroft gasped in a breath. "Take them & go befo—"

"I'm just getting started!" Sherrinford bared fangs for a moment, not listening. "You vile!" Punch. "Evil!" Slap. "Traitorous!" Bite. Sherrinford stopped talking & was soon pounding Mycroft so much that the healing power could not keep up.

The snow turned to a puddle of blood as Sherrinford lost all sense in a moment of insanity. He continued to assault Mycroft with every last ounce of hatred & broken trust he had in him. His wings were out & he used them to rush forward & deliver even more powerful strikes on occasion.

Mycroft stopped trying to warn them & waited for the beating to be over. There was no point trying to reason with one who had snapped. It was best to let it run its course. He expected Sherlock & Eurus to help Sherrinford but they didn't have to. Both stood on the porch, silently watching the whole affair while they let the eldest deliver the sentence they all knew Mycroft deserved. He was soon lost to a world of pain as Sherrinford didn't allow much healing to happen except when he had broken some part of Mycroft's body enough so that it wouldn't feel it anymore.

Sometimes, Sherrinford would pause & stand back, letting the healing power fix Mycroft up a little before attacking him again. It went on for a while. A lengthy torture. A short break & then another round of suffering. Sherrinford had lost all sense & seemed to want to cause as much pain as possible. Destroying Mycroft didn't even seem to cross his mind any more.

Blood had covered most of the meadow now. Some of it was from Sherrinford's wings but the rest was from the wounds he continued to inflict on Mycroft while the others stood by & watched. The horses had moved away & the sun had climbed higher before Eurus finally spoke, her voice a cracked sob, "Theós!" She waited for Sherrinford to look her way. "Please stop!" She begged. "It's enough!"

Sherrinford turned his eyes to Sherlock who merely flicked his brow. Letting out an angry sigh, Sherrinford slammed into Mycroft again, ignoring another plea from Eurus. She sat down in a chair & put her hands on her face. Using his wings, Sherrinford finally cut the binds & let Mycroft fall to the ground. He wrenched Mycroft up by the hair & threw him back.

"YOU TURNED ME INTO THE VERY THING THAT TOOK CÁSEL FROM ME!" Sherrinford bellowed through angry tears before falling to his knees in the blood-soaked frozen ground, sobbing.

So that was where all the rage was coming from. Mycroft slowly rolled over to his front & pushed himself up. He watched Sherrinford collapse to his side, his fiery wings piling over him. "I am sorry!" Mycroft whispered. He suddenly rolled away as Sherrinford had tried to pounce on him, thrusting a wing forward. If he hadn't have moved, Mycroft was sure he would have been skewered onto that wing.

"You!" Sherrinford snarled in a hoarse whisper. "Do NOT get to say that to me! EVER!" He backhanded Mycroft again, sending him sideways into the snow. Sherrinford was shaking so much, even his wings were vibrating. "I will never forgive you! Never!"

Mycroft got to his knees again, avoiding Sherrinford's red glare. "I'll leave you alone. I promise I will!" Mycroft began. "I just want to warn you about Míka, alr-alri ..." He gasped in a breath, in tears himself by now. He knew they'd all be mad. He had never expected Sherrinford to snap so violently, but it all made sense now. He had not once thought about Sherrinford's murdered lover. Murdered by the one with dark red wings. "That's all I wanted to do was to protect you all from him."

"I don't care about what you want!" Sherrinford shot at him. "I will never trust you, again. Never listen to you, again & I will never forgive you!"

"I never asked for your forgiveness!" Mycroft yelled. "Not from any of you. I know I don't deserve it! Just go! Now, before he comes & it's too late! We all know we can walk in the light now. He can come here at any time. Theós," Mycroft lowered his voice & kept his eyes averted in the hopes that Sherrinford wouldn't strike again. "We need to get to the Waldheri as soon as possible. They can help us move safely to the witch doctor's village. Please. Don't do it for me, do it for them!" He twitched his brow in the direction of the porch where Sherlock & Eurus were still watching. "Once you're all safe, I'll disappear, if that's what you want. You can destroy me if you need to. It doesn't matter what you do to me after. But we have to go. Now!"

"I don't know how to destroy you," Sherrinford sniffled, wiping away tears. "I wish I did!"

"The Waldheri would probably know," Mycroft said. "Or perhaps the witch doctor, or even the La ... someone will know." He was suddenly thinking of her again & couldn't bare the thought of how disappointed she was of him. "Let's just go. Now! While there's still time."

Sherrinford struck Mycroft on the face, causing both lips to split for a moment. "You don't get to decide what happens to us. First of all, I'm the oldest! Secondly, that doesn't even matter right now. We will never follow you."

"Then you have condemned them all to death at Míka's hand!" Mycroft shot back. "You don't understand the danger we're in. I didn't! The Lady had to explain it to me."

"Oh believe me, I understand just fine!" Sherrinford snarled as he stood up. His wings shuddered with annoyance behind him. "I just don't care!"

Mycroft glanced in the direction of their two younger charges. "Well, I do care about them! That's why I tried to protect you all fr—"

"I mean, I don't care about YOU!" Sherrinford cut him off. "Of course, I care about them but they are my responsibility alone! You lost all rights to this family when you turned on us. Literally, turned us!"

Sherlock moved into the sea of red spread out in front of the house. "I do agree with Mikró on this one thing," he began. "We all should leave." Mycroft visibly relaxed in relief, but Sherlock shot a red glare at him. "That is the only point on which we are agreed. You are dead to me & no longer my brother!" At that, he turned & walked back into the house without another word. Sherrinford followed a moment later, pulling his wings in as he reached the steps.

Mycroft made his way to the clean white snow & began using that to try washing off all the blood he had lost. He was craving to drink it as well & felt weak. He went over to the vase of blood & opened it, planning to have just some of it & leave the rest for the others. But he had lost so much blood that he downed the entire drink in one shot. Mycroft tossed the empty vase aside. They had to get to the Waldheri as soon as possible before they all started feeding off the living. He began cleaning off the fresh blood from his lips before going back to trying to remove all the dried blood from the rest of his body. He paused & turned around to find Eurus standing near him. They stared at each other for a long moment.

Eurus set a bucket of water down & dropped a piece of hide into it. "I'm not quite sure how you're still standing since you lost most of your red river."

Her voice was cold & dangerously low. Mycroft slowly reached down for the soaking hide, wrung it out & stood up again to begin wiping his own dried blood off. "We heal. I will be fine." Eurus slapped him hard across the face. "I know," Mycroft sighed. "I deserve it."

"You do!" Eurus snarled. "That was for what you did to us!" She smacked him again. "That was for scaring me the other night. I thought you were there to rape me!"

"What? I would never do that!" Mycroft gaped at her.

"I figured that out by now," Eurus snapped. "It's just the way you came to me. Stuff you said. I was still half asleep. I got confused. Then you killed me, instead."

"Sorry," Mycroft muttered. "That's the last thing I'd ever do. To anyone!" He re-soaked the hide before going on. "Besides, if it's one of us you want, we both know you'd take Xanthá. I mean, he's practically in your bed already, yet our parents wondered why you can't find your own man. You're stuck on him, aren't yo—oof!" She had punched him, making him stumble back into a tree. He rolled his eyes at her as he tried to focus on cleaning up. His brow twitched when he noticed that Sherlock was coming towards them.

"He's probably the only one I can have now, no thanks to you!"

"Me?" Mycroft stared incredulously at her.

"What else am I supposed to do now?" Eurus asked.

"Let's get to the Waldheri valley," Mycroft said. "Once you three are safe, I will leave. I know none of you want me around & I accepted that fact before coming to you all."

"I'm thinking about whenever I do find a man," Eurus said. "If he is not of our kind, then what kind of half bred children am I going to produce?"

"You will never have children," Sherlock said as he came to stand beside her.

"What do you mean?" Eurus & Mycroft both asked at the same time.

"The Lady told me," Sherlock said. "We are dead. I am the only one who can continue our line since I already have three children, but I can not have any more. It is upto them to continue our family, though I really don't see the point, since we are all cursed now, compliments of yours truly." He gestured at Mycroft with one hand.

"But Míka had a daughter," Mycroft said. "I destroyed her, myself."

"He probably had her before he was cursed," Sherlock shrugged. "Just like what happened to me. But you, Eurus & Theós will never have children & I suggest you stay away from mine!"

Mycroft tried to answer but doubled over with a pained groan as Eurus had punched him hard once more. "That was for destroying my entire life!" She fumed as Sherlock moved on towards the horses which had grouped together by now & began getting his mare ready.

"I didn't know," Mycroft said in a low voice. He was beginning to realize just how much he didn't know but now it was far too late.

"That's not an excuse!" Eurus snapped as she kicked the bucket over before marching towards Nýchta to start dressing him for riding.

Mycroft sighed heavily & picked up the soaking hide. He would never be able to get all of this off without fully soaking himself in water. Once he removed what he could, he went around to the back of the house to go inside & went to his private room to change. He heard Sherrinford talking to his cat, telling it to guard the place until later. He made his way through the hall towards the main room to see Sherrinford just leaving the broken door. The cat followed after him, tail held high.

Mycroft looked around the home he had grown up in. It had changed a bit as the family had expanded, but some of their best memories were here. He wondered if they would ever come back. He moved outside to see Sherlock already riding away on his mare with one of their parents' horses following on a lead line. Eurus was on Nýchta & holding a lead line to the other horse their parents had while Sherrinford was just getting up on the horse he had been using the past few days. He was wearing Siger's seal-skin coat. The cat ran & jumped up to be with him.

"What? You want to come with us now?" Sherrinford asked the cat in surprise. "I will come back for you soon." The cat climbed up to his shoulders & settled there. It was as if it knew no one would be coming back for it any time soon, possibly never again. "You know there are plenty of mice for you hibernating under the snow. It's a whole grove of mice in the summer." The cat began licking its paws, uninterested. Sherrinford blinked a few times. "Alright then." He kicked the horse into a canter & Eurus followed close behind.

Mycroft watched them leave. The red horse was still waiting & was currently gazing forlorn at the others disappearing into the trail. Mycroft took one last look around. A grove of mice* was the perfect description for the place in the summer. They were leaving it now but had only just come up with a name for it. He shook his head at the thought before running towards the red horse. He quickly put the reins on it but nothing else. The horse was eager to follow its new friends & it was all Mycroft could do to keep it a few paces behind so as not to upset the others even more. He would follow them to make sure they arrived safely in the valley, but after that, he wondered what he would do.

---

* The name Musgrave literally translates as 'mouse grove'.