Sometimes I believe that all four BEWDs are female, and that Kisara had only sisters.
Sometimes, I give the whole crew one brother.
I rarely remember which version of canon I'm operating with.
In this case, I've resolved to have one boy in the mix. He's a good boy.
.
"Does Mokuba have any monsters who've taken him as their champion?"
Kisara frowned thoughtfully, rubbing her chin. "I believe some have been guided to your brother, yes," she said. "They have not seen fit to speak with me." At Seto's surprised look, she added: "There are fewer than few who seek me out in the Barrier. I am retired. I have already completed my work there. It was I, with my sisters and my brother, who first carved our lands out of the battlefields where the first of us were born. With blood, lightning, wing and claw, we were the first to press back against the Boundless Dark."
"The forces of Chaos," Seto said.
"Yes." Kisara nodded. "In the great cosmic dances, such things as Good and Evil hold little power. It is only in those guided by sentiment that morality exists. In those ancient trenches, only Order and Chaos mattered aught."
"Hm," said Seto. "That makes more sense than I think I'm comfortable with. War is usually fought over . . . well, let's say the reasons wars are fought rarely hold up to scrutiny." He looked at Kisara closely. "You fought for Order, then."
"I did," said Kisara, "in those days."
Seto considered asking for clarification, whether she'd distanced herself from that philosophy; he elected to stay silent. He waited.
Eventually, Kisara continued on her own: "When my dear sisters, and my darling brother, fell to that ancient war . . . I accepted their strength as my own. If there was any specific period of my life which inspired Pegasus Crawford to call me an 'engine of destruction,' it was that one. I was transcendent. I was magnificent. I was terrible."
Again, Seto elected for quiet.
"That was my final campaign," Kisara declared. "I extracted payment, vengeance, for the deaths of my own; such awful payment. In that cavalcade of gore and flame, I won the day for Order. But so drenched in the blood of Chaos was I, the Great Golden Fields would not accept me." She grimaced. "I cared little for such trivialities. I flew up to the highest peak I could find, from among the mountains wrenched up from the earth by our great conflicts, and I carved out a lair for myself there."
"You exiled yourself," Seto said, finally.
"I could see in the eyes of the gods," Kisara said, "that they feared me, even as they praised my tenacity. Even as they elated in their praises of me—look how great we are, how magnanimous, they seemed to tell themselves, that we would deign to show appreciation to such a low creature as this—I could see that I would never be their idea of a proper soldier."
Seto frowned. "Did that bother you?"
"No," Kisara said. "It mattered nothing to me. I had already elected to deny them any satisfaction. Even if they had offered me a place among them, I had resolved to turn it down. So, when they did not even bother, it mattered little to me."
She sounded confident, but Seto wondered if that meant she was being honest.
"The gods," Kisara went on, "are many things. Many of those things are worthy of praise and admiration. But there is one thing, one expression, one emotion, that only low things can embrace. Only you mortals, and those who stake their claims in the Barrier, outside Order and Chaos but straddling both, can lay claim to it."
"And what is it?"
"Love, my prince."