[ P ] immortal

It had been too long since the youngest children of Nassar had spent more than a few stolen minutes together between patrols. Xandria sometimes missed the days when she and her brother would tussle, dreaming of being the perfect soldiers ready to lay down their lives for king and country. Oh how naive they had been. It was all too easy for war to be a childish fantasy as children who were reared on war stories instead of fairy tales. Obsessed with grand tales of her heroic ancestors; impatient for the day she finally could enlist. She had thought herself immortal, full of youthful arrogance and ambition to be a great warrior.

The first days of the war had sobered her quickly, faced with the violent reality of what active combat actually entailed. Seeing her fellow soldiers wounded beyond repair and surrounded by death and suffering. She knew the truth now. War wasn’t a place of glory and legends. If they were told then it was built on the bloody corpses of comrades for a survivor to claim the status of hero. There were no heroes in wars, only those that lived to tell tales that favoured themselves.

Her father had given his life so that King Adamh could sit comfortably on his throne and Xandria had killed the man that had murdered him. More widows, more orphans. She wanted change, but walked a delicate line between duty and purpose. She didn’t know what her brother’s thoughts about the current state of affairs was. She didn’t expect him to share her radical views. It made sense for him to support the king as most Tiamats did.


"We are all young and naive still."

code & art by claerie

The time between the meetings of sister and brother were growing too long for comfort. Sethos glanced at his sibling as they walked the same path, leaving pawprints stamped into the snow as they patrolled the outer edges of the Mainlands. Although they had not spoken in quite some time, only stealing quick remarks and nods in the moments between — he had gathered that she was participating not only in the war that plagued country, but a war that infested her heart. It pained him when she had left to seek justice for their father, but he had understood the reasoning. He, too would have done the same had he suffered the same sort of grief that Xandria harbored. Instead, his was of the quiet sort, deafening and wrapping around his every deepened breath. Enough to hold a flame to his pain, but not quite the same beast of that of his sister's.

Stopping to catch his reflection in a small, glassy pool, Sethos sighed. "Was it worth it?" He spoke quietly, but without hesitation. Not like how he had hesitated when the same topic had graced his mind with their mother. With Xandria, he could say the things he could not with Nassar. He assumed his sibling would understand the premise behind such a sudden question, so he didn't elaborate farther.

Orange-yellow eyes stared back at him from the water's surface. Eyes shared by many of his relatives. For a moment, he imagined Kohl in his place. The thought was still too raw, and he quickly swiped a paw across the liquid to dissipate the memory.

code & art by claerie


@Xandria

I'll burn a thousand moons just to light a single sun It was with bated breath that Xandria waited for her brother to remark upon her absence and condemn her for it. Sethos had never been as easy to read as their eldest sister or their mother. If he felt any ill feelings towards her for abandoning them for her quest for vengeance then he showed no signs of a silent rage brewing in the warm depths of his orange eyes. It was better to ask for forgiveness than permission, but it seemed that it would take longer than she anticipated for her to earn it. Was it worth it? he asked her, voice quiet and words full of meaning. She knew immediately of what he spoke and gritted her teeth. ”It wasn’t worth losing mom’s trust and Cairo’s respect,” she admitted, unable to stop the pain from leaking into her visage for a brief moment. ”But knowing that he’s not out there… not having to constantly think of him laughing and enjoying life while dad can’t. I can finally breathe,” she explained, hoping that he might understand. She didn’t regret killing the man, she only regretted that it damaged her relationships with her mother and sister. She was prepared to hear another lecture berating her for her actions and selfishness. Expecting the sting of the honesty of such harsh words and the fracturing of another bond that she wouldn’t be able to fix.

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