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Description
In which Arcann refuses to allow his sister to pay the price that he didn't for their crimes.

Artists page

vianiel.deviantart.com/
fleeting-sanity.tumblr.com/

Arcann stepped out onto the platform, empty now except for the dead. It had been badly damaged during the battle, mostly during his sister’s final display of power. The Alliance had no time to repair it during the current crisis. He was alone.
He stepped up to Torian, dead because of them. Last of his people. More worthy of life then himself or his siblings, but there was nothing he could do to reverse his sacrifice. All he could do was make certain he did better.
If he had that chance.
He stepped to his sister’s body, left where she fell in the emergency. He knelt down and closed her eyes, took her hand, and wept. She’d always been in so much pain, and he had added to it. Since her return, they had hurt each other so much, and now, it might be too late.
He had felt his mother’s emotions, seething between that icy calm. He understood how much pain and guilt she suffered for this “victory”. He was sure she would either suffer for it the rest of her life, or she would do something rash.
And soon. Neither outcome were acceptable, so here he was.
When he was ready, he lifted her up, propped her on one knee. He knew his chances were slim, that his connection to his sister was never as strong as hers to Senya, or his to Thexan. He still had to try. If he failed, he hoped his mother would understand. He wouldn’t let her suffer, or let his sister pay this price. Not when he hadn’t.
He focused, feeling his own life energies bathe her in light, closing her wounds, reaching out to reunite spirit with body. He had said she might have been obliterated, even thought for a time that at least she was no longer in pain. Deep down, he did not believe it, and realized now that it was not a worthy thought. Death was a necessity, but it was no mercy.
Her eyes fluttered, and she breathed, but she was still not whole, and he would not last much longer. Suddenly, that hated voice. “Son, what are you doing?”
He looked up, but kept his focus, and said through gritted teeth, “I told you, you have no son. You have no children. And I will save her from what you have done.”
“I did not do this. The Outlander did.”
Shifting blame again. As always. The great manipulator. Arcann ignored him and continued his efforts.
“Oh, Son, you don’t have the strength. You disappoint me again, sacrificing your life for an animal that will destroy everything you care for, even if you succeed.”
Arcann smiled, then, even as dark spots began to obscure his vision. “So, there is a chance.”
“What?”
“You’re here, trying to stop me, so it must be right. And you are scared.” His mouth was dry, perspiration dripping down his face, but he persisted.
“I fear nothing. But soon, you will be dead, and even if you succeed, she will be free.”
Arcann now heard his own voice, but he had not spoken. “Yes, Father, she will.”
New strength flooded through him. The voice spoke again. “As shall all my family, free of you, once and for all.”
Suddenly, the spirit of Valkorion wavered, and he cried out, and there was their sister’s spirit, shocked for a moment, first by being here at all, then by what her brothers were doing for her. Swiftly, she became a stream of light, of dark, of pure energy. He felt her pass through him, as she joined her brothers’ life force rejuvenating her body.
In the next moments, everything was a blur. He saw the faint trace of a smile, heard again his voice saying, “Please take better care of each other this time.”
He saw Valkorion’s scowl. He could feel that most of her power was still held by the monster, that she would still be weak.
And he knew that he would not hold it for long.
He lifted his sister and smiled down at her before taking her to safety.
=============================
He’d kept it a secret. No one commented on it. Perhaps Odessen had hidden it, perhaps they had been distracted.
Or, those who had noticed approved.
He had spoken to her, briefly. He knew she was still not well, and probably never would be. Now, though, she trusted him. She knew he would not hurt her, would protect her. And she had heard their brother, too, and promised to try to honor his request.
Senya did ask him about his weakness. He simply told her that he had the strength to do his duty. She accepted it.
Vaylin appeared in the final conflict, first a slave one last time to Valkorion, then a willing ally against him. Arcann did not fully understand this, but was still happy to side with her apparition. Perhaps some part of her was still here, in spite of his efforts. Perhaps, she was one more of Valkorion’s lies, which ultimately backfired.
Or, perhaps, she had joined the fight, from light years away. Nothing surprised him any longer about her power.
Their foe defeated, Senya stepped up to say goodbye to her daughter, something she hadn’t gotten the chance to after her death. As she reached out, Vaylin actually smiled, and Senya stepped back in shock and turned to Arcann.
She knew.
Later, they smiled to each other as they put the Outlander on the throne, but for reasons of their own.

Description
In which Arcann refuses to allow his sister to pay the price that he didn't for their crimes.

Artists page

vianiel.deviantart.com/
fleeting-sanity.tumblr.com/

Arcann stepped out onto the platform, empty now except for the dead. It had been badly damaged during the battle, mostly during his sister’s final display of power. The Alliance had no time to repair it during the current crisis. He was alone.
He stepped up to Torian, dead because of them. Last of his people. More worthy of life then himself or his siblings, but there was nothing he could do to reverse his sacrifice. All he could do was make certain he did better.
If he had that chance.
He stepped to his sister’s body, left where she fell in the emergency. He knelt down and closed her eyes, took her hand, and wept. She’d always been in so much pain, and he had added to it. Since her return, they had hurt each other so much, and now, it might be too late.
He had felt his mother’s emotions, seething between that icy calm. He understood how much pain and guilt she suffered for this “victory”. He was sure she would either suffer for it the rest of her life, or she would do something rash.
And soon. Neither outcome were acceptable, so here he was.
When he was ready, he lifted her up, propped her on one knee. He knew his chances were slim, that his connection to his sister was never as strong as hers to Senya, or his to Thexan. He still had to try. If he failed, he hoped his mother would understand. He wouldn’t let her suffer, or let his sister pay this price. Not when he hadn’t.
He focused, feeling his own life energies bathe her in light, closing her wounds, reaching out to reunite spirit with body. He had said she might have been obliterated, even thought for a time that at least she was no longer in pain. Deep down, he did not believe it, and realized now that it was not a worthy thought. Death was a necessity, but it was no mercy.
Her eyes fluttered, and she breathed, but she was still not whole, and he would not last much longer. Suddenly, that hated voice. “Son, what are you doing?”
He looked up, but kept his focus, and said through gritted teeth, “I told you, you have no son. You have no children. And I will save her from what you have done.”
“I did not do this. The Outlander did.”
Shifting blame again. As always. The great manipulator. Arcann ignored him and continued his efforts.
“Oh, Son, you don’t have the strength. You disappoint me again, sacrificing your life for an animal that will destroy everything you care for, even if you succeed.”
Arcann smiled, then, even as dark spots began to obscure his vision. “So, there is a chance.”
“What?”
“You’re here, trying to stop me, so it must be right. And you are scared.” His mouth was dry, perspiration dripping down his face, but he persisted.
“I fear nothing. But soon, you will be dead, and even if you succeed, she will be free.”
Arcann now heard his own voice, but he had not spoken. “Yes, Father, she will.”
New strength flooded through him. The voice spoke again. “As shall all my family, free of you, once and for all.”
Suddenly, the spirit of Valkorion wavered, and he cried out, and there was their sister’s spirit, shocked for a moment, first by being here at all, then by what her brothers were doing for her. Swiftly, she became a stream of light, of dark, of pure energy. He felt her pass through him, as she joined her brothers’ life force rejuvenating her body.
In the next moments, everything was a blur. He saw the faint trace of a smile, heard again his voice saying, “Please take better care of each other this time.”
He saw Valkorion’s scowl. He could feel that most of her power was still held by the monster, that she would still be weak.
And he knew that he would not hold it for long.
He lifted his sister and smiled down at her before taking her to safety.
=============================
He’d kept it a secret. No one commented on it. Perhaps Odessen had hidden it, perhaps they had been distracted.
Or, those who had noticed approved.
He had spoken to her, briefly. He knew she was still not well, and probably never would be. Now, though, she trusted him. She knew he would not hurt her, would protect her. And she had heard their brother, too, and promised to try to honor his request.
Senya did ask him about his weakness. He simply told her that he had the strength to do his duty. She accepted it.
Vaylin appeared in the final conflict, first a slave one last time to Valkorion, then a willing ally against him. Arcann did not fully understand this, but was still happy to side with her apparition. Perhaps some part of her was still here, in spite of his efforts. Perhaps, she was one more of Valkorion’s lies, which ultimately backfired.
Or, perhaps, she had joined the fight, from light years away. Nothing surprised him any longer about her power.
Their foe defeated, Senya stepped up to say goodbye to her daughter, something she hadn’t gotten the chance to after her death. As she reached out, Vaylin actually smiled, and Senya stepped back in shock and turned to Arcann.
She knew.
Later, they smiled to each other as they put the Outlander on the throne, but for reasons of their own.