#seperative

It had been months since he’d seen Mithos, so many that he had begun to wonder where the former leader of Crxuis had managed to spirit himself off to. A sense of guilt nagged at the corners of his mind whenever he thought the blond, but he hadn’t gone out searching for him. Still, there was a slight feeling of relief when he turned up again, Colette’s body still intact and apparently none the worse for the wear.

The secret she had meant to take to her grave a second timehad slipped from her lips, a careless word dropped at the wrong moment that letMithos know her death had not been merely human greed and cruelty as he had solong assumed. She met his gaze uncertainly, those familiar and yet unfamiliarblue eyes staring out from the face of a young girl whose body she had alsoonce inhabited. One hand went unconsciously to her stomach where the blade had piercedthat other body so long, long ago, as if she could still feel the warmth of herown blood spilling out to coat her fingers.

“I did, yes” she admitted. There was no point in lying toMithos. “I would do so again, if the need arose” she added. “If by my life ordeath, I can protect you, I will not hesitate.” She closed her eyes,remembering the long, long years of stillness and silence; the watching andlistening without any way to react. She had saved Mithos then, but at whatcost? Was that price worth paying again, if things came to that? Had the price trulybeen worth it the first time?

She looked again at the blonde sitting before her, thinkingback on what their lives had once been. Those lives were lost to them now,behind them forever. “I am sorry for the pain it caused you when I died. Inever meant for you to suffer.” She reached out for Mithos, pulling him into ahug like the ones she had always used to comfort him as a child, resting herchin lightly atop his head as he relaxed against her shoulder. He resisted abit at first, still shocked by her confession, but eventually yielded to herembrace. She gently stroked his hair, a gesture that had often soothed him inthe past.

“What is done is already done, and we cannot undo the past.All we can do is keep moving forward. At least we have one another, do we not?”she asked softly. “We were granted a miracle, you and I; a second chance at alife together. Perhaps it is not the life we imagined it might be, but we arestill alive.” She tightened her hug for a moment, grateful that Mithos wasalive and here with her. The world would be a lonely place to walk alone. Shecould hardly bear the thought of those long, lonely years Mithos had spentwithout her.

“Perhaps it was not the right choice, those many years ago,but it has already been made. I am sorry for the suffering that ensued becauseof my choice. With this new life, I hope I can make some amends, both to youand to the world that you twisted for my sake. I only wish you had nevershouldered the burden of the guilt that came with my choice. It seems that Ifailed to protect you, in the end. My sacrifice may have been in vain.” Shesighed and loosened her hug, leaning back a little so that she could see hisface.

Martel had known this day was coming since learning of her brother's fate, but it was time she had a talk that she'd been putting off for a while. She was sure Mithos had discovered many unpleasantries already since obtaining his new body, and as a sister who had the same fate forced upon her, none knew better than her what he may be going through. He needed to take care of himself, and if he were to convince the Palmacosta citizens of his life as the chosen, he would have to learn a few things before anyone noticed.

It was the middle of the night, and the eggshell was smooth and perfect as he cradled it in the palm of his hand. He gave it a small, experimental toss to get a feel for the balance of it and glanced sidelong at his companion.

"Watch and learn" he instructed the blond at his side as he drew back his arm. Releasing the egg, he watched it sail forward in a perfect arc to land with a messy splatter against the wall of Alvin’s house. He looked expectantly at Mithos, waiting for him to follow suit, a smirk on his face as a second small explosion of egg yolk graced the walls.

The cool, damp earth clung to her fingers as she gently loosened the roots of the iris she had separated from a clump to replant. Martel took a deep breath, savoring the rich, loamy scent that accompanied a patch of well tilled ground. It had been hard work to prepare the ground for planting, a time consuming process that had often left her hands and back aching, but it was well worth it for the reward she reaped. To have her own personal patch of earth and create a green growing space without interference had long been a dream of hers, and she finally had a place to call her own. It was small and humble, and she might be living on borrowed time, but it was her own nonetheless. No one had tried to drive her out or send her away.

Beside her, Mithos drew in a sharp breath, and she glanced over just as he spoke. “Oh look at that. I’ve been impaled.” He had dropped the young rosebush without much decorum, cradling his hand closer to his body to examine his thumb. The offending thorn was quickly removed and cast aside, but Martel could see a drop of blood welling from the wound. For such a small thorn, it was a surprisingly deep puncture, indicating his mind had not been entirely on the job at hand. A sneaking suspicion had hovered in the back of her mind all morning that this was not the pastime Mithos would have chosen for a day together, and she wondered if this was his less than subtle way of letting her know that.

“Let me see” she instructed, reaching out her own hands to cradle his injured one, examining the wound more closely. It would be nearly effortless to heal with her magic, but she had always preferred to let the natural course of life flow when possible. Her magic was reserved for grave illness, for life-threatening wounds, for mending the injuries sustained in battle. A small cut or scrape could heal without aide, and serve as a reminder of carelessness, to prevent such accidents from happening again. “You will need to rinse this” she informed Mithos, releasing his hand and standing to brush the clinging earth from her knees and the front of her dress.

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