#vjeran

Mathias walked into sight, Phael not far behind him, likely silently protesting whatever it was he had decided to hate today.

“Are you waiting for winter?” Asked the doctor as they passed, a twinkle in his eye.

“Waiting for my brother to stop being an idiot,” Vjeran spat out.

“Me too,” Phael replied.

Vjeran chuckled, watching them walk off and go about the rest of their day. Together, no doubt, and he was glad of it. Mathias was a good influence and seemed to be the only one capable of controlling the fiery rage that Phael had surely inherited from his parents.

When the doors opened slowly, Vjeran stepped back out of the way, not wanting to look open to conversation with the others. Watching the Council members walk out, Alek and Cyran were the first to appear side by side, both looking irritated. Behind them Elaria grinned at him, muttering something about how he should have let his brother have it instead of walking out. She was probably right.

Meira and Gabriele walked out next, and behind them Adrian, who slowed down to say something.

“You’re right, you know. Everything you said in there.”

Vjeran scoffed, “My words fall on deaf ears. Besides, I didn’t hear you say anything.”

He looked him in the eye, “I say things in my own way.”

And with that said, he too walked away. Vjeran stared after him, his head beginning to ache.

“We’re celebrating Moonsayde tonight, Vjeran, the least you can do is stop glowering.”

He snapped his head the other direction, ready to stop glowering and ready to begin a fight. His body was instantly hot with anger. 

“I’m sorry, celebrating what, exactly?” Vjeran let his voice rise to just below a shout. “The utter chaos you’re about to bring to our region? Or the hundreds of people that are going to be killed because of you?”

Jeren adjusted his vest, the glittering crescent shaped buttons were loose, hanging dangerously by thin threads, just like his temper these days. And just like Vjeran’s patience these days.

He began to walk away, his expression utterly unbothered. “That too, it’s all the same.”

Vjeran lunged forward, grabbing him by the arm, his nails digging in, “Don’t walk away from me!”

Turning slowly, Jeren glanced at the hand that had gripped him and raised a brow. They stood there a long moment, both of them unsure of how to proceed – this was the first time Vjeran had allowed himself to be this aggressive with Jeren. He was tired of being reasonable, of being the calm and friendly brother.

In the corner of his vision he could see Adrian hesitating after noticing the conflict. He was a ways down the corridor, but had clearly been paying attention. Jeren either took no notice or didn’t care. He ripped Vjeran’s hand off of him and smoothed out his sleeve.

“I’ll do what I want.”

Vjeran opened his mouth, only to be slammed backwards by a rush of magic, his head slamming against the window with enough force to cause his vision to flicker. He willed his anger to flow through magic of his own, but his brother had already seized him by the neck, his skin burning like fire.

He yelped, attempting to surround his attacker with threads of magic to at least get him away. But the pain was already taking its toll on his ability to do anything but cry out and grab at the hands nearly strangling him. Jeren’s magic was too strong – and this was only the start of what he was capable of.

“If you’d like to continue to be able to run around Blackwater pretending that you have a place here, then you need to keep your mouth in check.” Jeren dropped him, “I know you fancy thinking that leading the Council is a collaborative effort, but it’s not. I’m the oldest, you are not. I have the crystal, you do not. I am the head of the Council, and you are not.”

Vjeran held his shaking hands to his neck, hot blood sticking to his skin and dripping down, soaking into his shirt.

He coughed, gasping for air when he attempted to speak, quickly giving up and allowing himself to slump into the floor, his forehead pressed against the cold stone. He couldn’t do anything more as Jeren turned and began walking away. A heavy feeling of dread began to grow within him as he realized, perhaps the first time, just how far his brother was willing to go to stay in total control.

*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.* *.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*

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Written for Your Antagonist’s Backstory ( @yourocsbackstory​ )