7 Deadly Sins – Lust

Kevin moaned, as a pair of large, calloused hands moved over his body, fingers sliding through his fur. They touched with a skill borne of familiarity, and he responded in kind, running his sharp claws with care over taut, tanned skin. They left soft red lines in their wake, but that only drew out a pleased sound from his partner. The man above him hovered close, pinning him deliciously to the bed with his bulk. His skin radiated heat like a furnace, and he welcomed it, wanting it to consume him even as the heat in his blood did the same from the inside.

There were few who could truly match him here. His desire was voracious, and he made sure to give just as much as he took. Most fizzled out too soon, but Martin Amman was not one of them.

Kevin knew what he was. His species were impulsive at the worst times, landing them into all sorts of trouble they needed to get themselves out of. Luckily, most of the time, they had the wits to do so. But on a new world, interacting with other species, that didn’t always work. You couldn’t use your quick wits to mend a fractured relationship or make up for hurting someone you loved.

No, he was quickly learning that sort of thing took exactly the opposite. Introspection wasn’t something he was known for but he’d done perhaps more of it in the past few months than he ever had in the rest of his life. Little had he known that impulsiveness could take many forms.

He hadn’t been with anyone since Domerin had broken up with him and he’d foolishly decided that he should try to be more like Sesha. Though he’d been sincere in devoting himself to Domerin, his mind had been screaming with need after little more than a week. He didn’t honestly know how other people did it. Desire was something in his blood he could not deny; a base lust that coursed through the very DNA of his species.

His people were wanderers, but he’d found someone he wanted to come home to, someone he would have been willing to fight his lust for. He considered himself lucky Domerin didn’t ask that of him, giving him the freedom to seek out other lovers to sate himself. He hadn’t even needed to think before choosing Martin as the first to return to. The other man had been thrilled when he’d approached him about resuming their association, but first he’d forced him to sit down, so they could get some things straight before he’d even consider sleeping with him again. He’d been more relieved than he’d realized when Martin had agreed to his new terms. At least he knew the other man wasn’t going to bother Domerin any longer.

And so he’d finally let free the lighting that coursed through his veins, reveling as Martin took him to the edges of madness and over, into the abyss. He’d held this in so long he’d been sure the fire would boil his blood away.

As the heat cooled they both came to rest, and Martin gathered him up in his arms with a gentleness that would have surprised anyone who knew his strength. He laid his head against the man’s chest, the familiar double heartbeat thrumming in his ears.

For the moment he felt content here, warm, and sated. Even Martin was quiet for what was probably a record time for him. Eventually he shifted, and chuckled softly.

“You haven’t moved in about twenty minutes. I’ll bet even Domerin can’t wear you out like that.”

Kevin growled and pulled back sharply, forcing Martin’s arm to loosen enough so he could lift himself up. He shot the other man a hard look.

“I warned you about letting go of this thing with Domerin. Don’t make me regret my decision.”

Martin’s blue eyes widened, and for a moment he might have been a deer in the headlights.

“I was just kidding,  I promise!” The man tried to lightly stroke his arm, but he remained tense.

Martin’s brows furrowed and he moved to sit up, forcing Kevin to shift as well. He tucked his legs under him, and his look morphed to concern.

“Look, I’m sorry. It was a bad joke. I really have no interest in competing with Domerin anymore, okay? I saw what he did for all of us. I sent him my thoughts as hard as anyone else. He deserved it, and as far as I’m concerned, well… he’s a good guy. Peace?”

Kevin gave him a somewhat skeptical look, but finally nodded. Martin wasn’t the sort for subterfuge,  truthful to a fault, if poor in taste. The man might give him what he craved, but he had made it clear he’d cut him off in a second if he showed a hint of that former rivalry.

“Still mad at me?” Martin gently brushed his fingers down his arm in a conciliatory gesture.

Kevin shivered, body still sensitive from earlier, but he only shook his head.

Martin frowned and reached out. It was only moments before the man’s arms slid around his furred form and were drawing him into his lap. He fit perfectly, given their size difference, and Martin held him close against his muscled chest.

The man’s unique scent, mixed with that of their recent joining, filled his nose. He felt the spark of heat inside him already, needy and demanding, and he drew in a soft breath. It was so tempting just to give in, to not think anymore. It would have been easy. It always had been.

Martin knew him well enough to read that sound, and the way he pressed back against him, but instead of sliding his hands through his fur, he just gave him a gentle squeeze.

“What’s wrong, Kevin? Surely the sex wasn’t that bad.”

The question startled him out of his reverie, and he half turned to see Martin’s lips quirked up in a teasing grin. He couldn’t help but laugh softly, though before he could reply, the man went on, his voice far gentler.

“You don’t seem like yourself today.”

That surprised him. When had Martin become so observant?

“Sorry,” he admitted, an apologetic smile touching his lips, “there’s just a lot on my mind right now, and it’s been awhile since I- well, since I did something like this. Fed the fire this way. I kept thinking I could stay away from it, the need I mean, but I realized that’s just not possible.”

“Was that what you were doing? Why would you ever want to do that?” Martin asked, a single brow raised.

“I guess I thought it would be a distraction from… building a relationship. Most people in committed relationships don’t exactly sleep around. At least, not to the degree I do. But I can’t deny something that’s so integral a part of me. I think I would have lost myself eventually if I’d kept trying.” As much as he’d been the one to champion an open relationship at the beginning, these thoughts had plagued him, at least until Domerin had assured him that he was fine with his wandering.

“That’s still no reason to deny yourself. You think it’s a sin or something?”

“Oh come on, you know me better than that.” He said, gently bumping Martin’s stomach with his arm. “I just- things are different now. I want something more, and I was willing to give my up wandering to have it.”

Martin made a thoughtful sound that rumbled deep in his chest, and then he gave a little shrug.

“Seems to me any relationship that’s worth it wouldn’t expect you to deny a part of yourself like that. If it does it’s probably not good for you. It’s just pleasure. There’s nothing wrong with that, so long as you’re not hurting anybody.”

Kevin stared at the other man for a few long moments, amused. Leave it to Martin to reduce months of anxiety down into a few sentences. He might have come off as simple to a lot of people, but he was anything but stupid.

“He didn’t ask you to do that, did he? Domerin, I mean.”

“No,” Kevin said, giving a little smile, thinking Domerin wouldn’t have minded him sharing this one little detail. He’d been fine with the wandering, it was the other things that needed changing, so he could treat the man right.

“Good. I don’t see what the problem is then. Build your relationship with him, and I’ll be here the rest of the time. At least you know you’ll never go wanting.”

Martin’s hands began to move once more, sliding suggestively up and down his furred stomach. This time Kevin didn’t resist when he felt the familiar embers of desire start to glow.

“I think Domerin would be surprised to hear you say that,” he said, drawing in a pleased breath.

Martin’s chest shook softly against his back as he gave a little laugh. “I won’t tell him if you won’t. But for the moment, my dear, I believe we have a desire to feed.” The man’s large hand gently cupped his cheek, turning his head to the side and slightly up, so he could catch his lips in a passionate kiss.

Kevin didn’t say more, letting it carry him away once more.

 

 

Seibel – Wrong Thing, Right Reasons

Same character/same world/different time – I did the right thing

The sun shone down cheerily on the shore, its light glinting off the top of the waves as they rolled ever up onto the sand. The air was warm, but not so much so as to be uncomfortable.

Seibel walked just at the edge of the water, taking some pleasure in the way the ground sunk slightly under his feet with each step.

Just up the beach, in the shade of a palm tree, Naia sat on a blanket. Next to her, little Cael slept in a wicker basket, suspended from the sturdy trunk of the palm by thick rope. The breeze gently rocked the basket back and forth, lulling the child to sleep.

It was about as perfect a day as they could get. It had been a long time since he’d walked by the sea; and this shore in particular. Though he loved the ocean it was a place he had a rather complicated relationship with.

So did Naia, though she might not have remembered it. Twenty years was a long time to a human. Still, he’d debated long with himself before setting their course to this place.

The last time they’d been here she’d slept under a makeshift tent of palm fronds, lulled to sleep by one of her favorite stories, and the steady thrum of the waves. It had been a beautiful night.

The next morning had been less so. Her questions had started almost immediately after breakfast about when they were going back home. He’d been able to distract her, for awhile, but inevitably the tears had come and he’d been sure they would never dry.

Eventually, her desire for home had lost its grip. She had exciting new places to explore, new faces to meet, foods to taste, and the start of her magical training to occupy her. It had all steadily replaced the small island in her mind.

He’d been wondering, for perhaps longer than he’d allowed himself to admit, if she didn’t deserve to learn where she’d come from.

Her footsteps were soft on the sand as she came to join him at the edge of the water. She was smiling, and he couldn’t help but smile in return.

“I feel like you’ve been holding out on me,” she said, fixing him with a look for a few moments, “waiting so long to bring me to the ocean. I love it here. We’re going to have to visit far more often. It’s beautiful!”

“It is very beautiful,” he said, looking out at the waves, though his smile faded somewhat. In a way, he had been holding out on her, but if she loved it so much he wasn’t going to deny her any longer.

Silence settled over them for a few long moments, but next to him she shifted a bit from foot to foot, suggesting there was more on her mind.

“It’s more than just that. I feel a sort of… pull to the ocean I haven’t anywhere else we’ve traveled. Like there’s something on the edge of my mind.”

She sounded thoughtful, as if she were somewhat hesitant to speak of it. When he didn’t immediately reply she looked down.

“It’s nothing. You’ll just think I’m being silly.”

He shouldn’t have been surprised. He was sure he knew what that pull was, though he’d hoped she wouldn’t feel it. Part of him was tempted to dismiss it as nothing, but didn’t give in to the impulse.

“It’s clearly something, if it’s coming into your mind like that.”

“I don’t know.” She sighed and looked over at him. “It feels a bit like deja-vu.”

Her green-eyed gaze was seeking. He’d never been able to say no to her when she looked at him that way.

This was the moment, to face the choice he’d made. Even now, doubts plagued him, but she was a smart woman, and he felt sure she would understand.

“Well-” He started, and thought better of it.

Before he could change the topic, though, she’d fixed him with a look that he knew he wouldn’t be able to get away, prompting him to continue. She gave him similar looks during lessons when she wasn’t satisfied with his answers.

“Well, that’s because you have been here before.”

“I have?” Her brows knit together, and her lips pursed, the same face she’d always made when she was trying to work out a problem.

He gave an encouraging nod, and she closed her eyes, focusing.

“Wait… I have been here, haven’t I?” Her eyes opened in surprise, and she started looking around her, really taking in the beach separate from the initial excitement she’d felt. She knelt down and slid her fingers into the dry sand, letting the grains run between them. “I remember… sleeping in the sand, on a blanket. It’s all sort of hazy though.”

“You couldn’t have been more than six at the time, and you’d had a very long day. I’m honestly surprised you stayed up for your story.”

“If we’ve been here before why haven’t we ever been back?” She sounded a bit distant, as if she were chasing the answer for herself. She stood suddenly and strode the few steps to the waterline, the waves running over her feet and ankles.

She stared out at the ocean for a long time. When she spoke he could barely hear her over the waves.

“I used to have dreams, where I was walking on water. I never understood them, but, I remember… We walked on the water. In the middle of the ocean. I- I remember there wasn’t any land in sight, and it was scary and it took so long. I thought the sun was being swallowed by the sea, and you picked me up and carried me. That all really happened.”

“It did. We walked nearly all day.”

She turned back to him and her voice held a hint of desperation. “Why were we walking on the ocean?”

“We were running.”

“Running?” Her brows knit. “What could you possibly need to run from?”

“Slavery.”

“Slavery? I don’t-”

“We were trapped on a slave trading island, cut off from conventional magic. It looked like a paradise, on the outside, but it was run on the backs of slaves. I would never want to return there. I was one of the lucky ones, taken to be a caretaker and a teacher. Most were not as lucky. I was able to send out tendrils to Lord Kalindas, through prayer, and over time I managed to stockpile just enough power to escape.”

She was staring at him, as if she couldn’t believe it, but after a moment she closed the distance between them, reaching her hand out to brush her fingers across his neck.

“I remember you used to always wear an iron necklace.” At the realization of the truth, she gasped and drew her hand back, looking horrified.

“I was a slave when we first met.”

“And me? How did you find me? Was I a slave too?” She absently ran her fingers over her own neck as well, as if she could find some evidence worked into her very skin.

Here he hesitated, perhaps for the final time. She’d never seemed all that interested in asking about her past, despite knowing that he wasn’t her father. He could have lied to her, she would never have been the wiser, but he didn’t feel like that was fair.

“No, you were never a slave. You might not remember but you were the daughter of the people who owned me. You were my charge.” He kept his tone even, almost the same as he did when teaching his lessons.

Her expression shifted from horror to confusion.

“I was? Did- did they die? Did they give me to you?”

“No. They were at least alive on that last day. When I gained enough power to escape I made a choice. I used our outing as an excuse to get away, and I planned on sending you back home while I did so. But, by that time I cared very much for you. You were always a wonderful child, and I knew you’d make an amazing adult. But the thought of you growing up and becoming someone who bought and sold human life was too much for me to bear. So, you must understand Naia, that when the moment came to choose, I took you with me.”

She said nothing following his admission, staring at him as if she were frozen in place. The waves, the wind, and the distant gulls crying suddenly sounded far too loud in his ears. He reached out to lay a hand on her arm.

“Naia-”

She came to life all at once, pulling back from him. Her arms shot out in either direction, and her face contorted in rage.

“You did what!? You took me away from my parents, my life, and you never told me!? How could you?”

The force of her reaction nearly rocked him back on his heels. He’d expected shock, surely, but this sort of reaction wasn’t like her.

“Naia, listen to me, you’re being illogical. I did the right thing.”

“The right thing? How do you even begin to justify that, Seibel?”

“Easily. Who knows who you’d be if I’d left you there? Could you imagine yourself being comfortable with owning someone?”

For a moment his words seemed to strike her and she went silent. He knew how she felt about the idea of slavery; he’d always made a point to speak out against it, and she found it as abhorrent a practice as it was. Surely she would understand if she thought about it.

But the stillness didn’t take and the anger returned, if anything, growing in intensity.

She pointed a finger right in his face,  trying to loom, even if she was shorter than he was. He could almost see her anger roiling off of her.

“How was it any right of yours to make a decision like that!? It’s my life! My choice! And by the gods, Seibel, did you ever think of my parents? What would you have done if someone had just taken off with Cael? My world would collapse. I don’t believe for a minute that they didn’t love me, and try to do right by me.”

She drew in several breaths, in a way he’d taught her to help her calm down, but it didn’t seem to be helping. She shook her head but her gaze was no less intense.

“I’m sorry that you were a slave, but you had no right to take me away! None! Do you hear me?”

He’d never expected her to react this way, and it twisted his stomach. She’d never been this angry at him before, and he couldn’t help but think back to those same questions he’d asked the silent sky all those years ago.

“Naia, please-”

“No! I don’t want to hear any more of your bullshit justifications. You think you did right? That you were saving me? What you did was selfish and nothing more. You bastard!”

Her voice was like a whip in the wind, and up the beach Cael gave a cry, unhappy to be so rudely woken from his slumber.

They both looked automatically but by the time Seibel had looked back the tears had started falling again, Naia’s green eyes swimming in the light. But her anger was still there too.

He tried to reach out to her, but she narrowed her eyes at him, pulling away and stalking up the beach. He moved to follow but she rounded on him, her face and voice gone cold.

“Don’t you dare follow me. I don’t want to see your face right now.”

Her words stopped him in his tracks and she continued on, stopping only long enough to gather Cael up in her arms before she stalked away in the direction of their cabin.

Seibel stood alone on the shore, wind pulling at his hair and clothes, like so many invisible fingers. He felt lost, as if a hole he’d filled long ago had suddenly burst open, and he’d found the wrong person in the grave. He’d been telling himself he’d done right for twenty years, but with her gone it felt horrible wrong.

Without thinking he turned and looked up at the sky, but the sun and clouds offered no more answer than the stars.

7 Deadly Sins – Sloth

Kestrel slid through the familiar, dark hallways, moving particularly stealthy for a man his size. It helped that he knew the turns and doors; none of it had changed since the days he’d walked them, back in another life. When his captain had brought this most recent plan to him he’d been surprised. Silkfoot had been delighted that the very building he wanted to rob was one where his first mate had once worked. That provided insider information on the layout that would be much harder to gain otherwise.

He passed down a long corridor, shining his light in through an office window. He knew it instantly.

“You come highly recommended Mr. Valladon, but I can’t help but notice you haven’t stayed in your past few jobs for long.”

The man across from him was fussy, in a suit that was a bit too tight for him.

“Yes. The truth was they were very nice places to work, but they didn’t challenge me. I’m the sort of man who enjoys the challenge of a job, and in solving the problems that come with it. I can guarantee you that I will give my very best, no matter how hard the work might be. I will not leave you disappointed.”

The man considered that but after a few moments he nodded, seeming pleased enough by his answer.

Thomas was careful not to let his thoughts show. That was always the most bothersome question of the interview process. He’d used the exact same line at least three or four times now, and knew he wouldn’t be able to get away with it for much longer. Resumes were useful, up until the point when they weren’t.

“Well, we certainly have more than enough challenge around here. It’s a big building with lots of needs. As you know we store many priceless pieces, and our clients expect top notch security. That’s why we only hire the best. With your qualifications and some drive I could see you making supervisor. Wouldn’t that be wonderful, Mr Valladon?  Think of all the opportunity.”

“It’s certainly a lot to keep in mind.”

“Wonderful, I look forward to working with you.”

“Likewise,” he offered out his hand to shake, along with a smile, even while knowing that he’d be gone from this job well before he had a chance to advance. Unless it had something different about it, something that really challenged him, his boredom with it all would eat away at him until he left to find another empty job to fill his time.

-ow’s the work coming, Kestrel?” The voice in his mind faded, morphing to a different one whispering in his ear.

His captain’s voice was familiar, and reassuring, and he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. The office where he’d had his interview faded into darkness, and he chided himself for getting distracted.

This job and this building, had never meant anything to him, but he’d never been back to one of his former places of work. He’d never had reason to, since he’d never bothered to make any connections. Moving through these hallways was like walking through the grey fog of his former life all over again. He’d labored for years in jobs where he’d only ever done enough to garner good references, but not enough to excel.

Why bother, when none of it had meant anything? What was the point of a life that lacked all challenge?

“Kestrel?”

“Sorry, Captain. It’s going well. I should reach the rendezvous in less than ten minutes.”

He shook the cobwebs from his mind and hurried on.

Most anyone with a mind at cracking this building would have tried to take a route that would have had them in the building for far too long, climbing through ducts, hiding under desks, anything to avoid running into security.

That was the problem with this building, unless you were somehow blessed by fate, or possibly suicidal, there was no way to take out every patrolling guard without alerting someone. The only option was to move as stealthily as possible. That had certainly piqued Silkfoot’s interest, and even he felt the familiar electricity running through his veins as he moved toward his target, just narrowly missing being seen.

This was living. Siding from shadow to shadow, living in the moments between the sweep of camera and guard. The way your heart beat in anticipation, knowing every moment an alarm could shatter the air. Whether it was this, or feeling the wind on his face, and the sea spray, he’d never felt alive until Silkfoot Lightvolt had found him.

He passed through the cafeteria. There was an employee evacuation stairwell though there that not even the clients were made aware of. The custodial staff could have made a killing selling the secrets to this place to the highest bidder.

He pressed himself up against the underside of a cash station as a flashlight swung by over his head. He counted the moments as each footstep echoed on the tile floor.

Three… Four… Five…

“Oh come on Thomas, there’ll only be five of us! I’ll even cover you. Not even you could say no to free beer.”

Lana had been leaning down across the table where he’d been eating his lunch, her shirt quite noticeably not quite fully buttoned up. He couldn’t deny that the view was nice, but he wasn’t swayed by displays like that.

“I’m afraid I’m busy that night. You should go out and enjoy yourself.”

“You’re always busy. Five months on the job and he never goes out. I’m starting to think you cease to exist when you go off the clock.”

Thomas took another bite, ignoring the annoyed noise she made before she straighted up. Her friend laid a hand on her arm, drawing her away.

“Just leave it Lana, he never goes out. Let him stew. We don’t need him to have fun.”

“He probably doesn’t even know how to.” The two women tittered as they made their way out.

Thomas hadn’t bothered to tell them that he’d already given his two weeks notice. It wasn’t really their business anyway.

He made his way up the hidden stairwell, Spencer’s words echoing in his mind with each step he took.

“I hate to see you go, but of course I’ll provide a reference, Thomas.” 

He paused on a landing, checking his watch to orient himself before continuing on.

“Just, a bit of advice. Take it as you will. I’ve met men like you before. You’re never going to find the perfect job. Someday you’re going to have to settle for something. If you keep on this way no one is going to be willing to hire you. Just remember that, in case you want to come back. We’d gladly take you again.”

Kestrel pressed his ear to the door leading out of the stairwell, imagining Spencer’s face in his mind. The man had looked so crestfallen, and he hadn’t understood why he cared so much about a place like this. He’d thanked him for his advice. They were probably good words to live by, though he had no intention of doing so. He’d asked Spencer not to tell anyone else, and went back to work

Guarding buildings had worn thin after that. That was when he’d gone into event security, and changed his fate.

Kestrel had arrived in the remote security room. By his estimation he had another seven minutes and thirteen seconds before the guard returned and he would have to vacate. This part had to be done perfectly, and he whispered into his earpiece, guiding Silkfoot along through the last of the barriers.

The man was almost there when the quiet hum from the monitors was broken by a metallic click. He turned, wide eyed, to see the door-handle starting to turn. Without even thinking he dove for the wall, out of sight of whoever was coming through the door. Unfortunately he’d left his watch on the dashboard.

A short, round man walked in, seeming oblivious to his hidden company. He must have noticed the watch across the room, as he headed right for it, though halfway there he tensed and started to turn.

Kestrel silently cursed. He hadn’t wanted to engage anyone, but if the man tripped the alarm now they’d be hard pressed to get out of here. He shot out of his hiding place just as the man was turning, his hand closing around the short man’s neck to cut off any sound he might make. His momentum carried them across the small space and up against the wall.

He squeezed, even as the face looked up at him with wide eyes. The moment he met those eyes he froze, his grip loosening just a hair.

“Thomas?” The short man managed to squeak out around his grip, hands clinging to his arm.

“Kestrel?” Silkfoot’s voice echoed in his ear, moments after.

He grunted, to let the man know he was still there, but that he couldn’t talk at the moment..

“Thomas Valladon it is you. I never forget a face.” Spencer Beltain had hardly changed, aside from a bit of balding at his temples.

It was likely only years of work in this field that kept Spencer from panicking, though he’d never had the strength that Kestrel did. The more you could learn, the more you had for the police later. The man was already taking in his black-clad form, and he’d been in the business long enough he’d have no doubt what they meant.

Kestrel chose not to answer, even as Silkfoot’s voice sounded in his ear again, more terse this time.

“Kestrel where are you? What happened?”

“Sit tight.” He murmured, not quietly enough.

Spencer’s eyes narrowed.

“Is this what you decided to do with yourself, Thomas?” The man nearly growled at him, and his sharp tone caught him off guard. “You were so talented, and now this?”

Kestrel stared at him, his eyes dark. Had he been any other thief he likely would have smashed the man’s head against the wall and been done with it. That wasn’t really his style.

“Talent? In that nothing job, and nothing life? I have nothing against you, but none of it meant anything to me.” He looked back and saw so much waste, whole years he could have cut out of his life without a loss.

He fixed Spencer with a look, as if daring him to contradict him.

Instead the smaller man just laughed, not particularly cruelly or mocking. In fact, he seemed more amused than anything.

“You know, that’s the most impassioned I’ve ever seen you.” His laughter slowly subsided, and his look became stony.

“Shame you only came alive as a thief. So, what are you going to do to me? Slit my throat?”

“If I had wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead.”

“Then do whatever you’re going to and be done with it. At least I know who to report to the police.”

It was almost a dare, trying to see if he was a murderer. He wouldn’t take that bait.

“Sorry Spencer.”

He pressed the man further back against the wall, and depressed the syringe he’d slipped out of a pouch. This stuff was expensive, but he always insisted on carrying at least one, just in case. He didn’t like needless deaths.  

Spencer began to slump, but the fought as the drug drew him under. Once more his eyes narrowed accusingly.

“I don’t think you are.”

The other man slumped to the floor, his breathing slow and even.

Kestrel watched him impassively for a few moments. He hadn’t been wrong: he wasn’t sorry. One last lie. One last nail in the coffin of his old life.

That done he turned back to the panel.

“Sorry about that Captain.”

“Everything all right?”

“Just a small issue. I took care of it. Let’s reset and get this done.”

On the other end Silkfoot gave an affirmative, not delving into the rest now. There would be time after the work was finished. Once Silkfoot had what they’d come for, he slipped away, without looking back.

“Kestrel?”

Someone was touching his arm.

He blinked and shifted, having to look down to see Silkfoot standing there, looking up at him with one eyebrow arched. Instantly his heart filled with warmth, and his world with color. Blue sky stretched away in front of him, and blue-green ocean rolled along far below.

“Apologies, Captain, I didn’t see you there.”

“I thought you’d been turned to stone there for a few minutes, my friend.” Silkfoot patted his arm, a playful grin curling his lips.

“Well, I wouldn’t be much use to you then, except maybe as an anchor.”

Silkfoot laughed, and he relaxed, though the other man didn’t go anywhere. Instead he moved to lean his arms against the railing, the gentle breeze playing through his hair.

“You’ve been spacier than usual since the last job.”

“My apologies, Captain. I will redouble my efforts.”

“Oh, don’t give me any of that, Kestrel. I heard what happened. You didn’t silence your radio.” The man lightly poked him in the arm to punctuate his point.

For a moment Kestrel froze, trapped in the other man’s emerald gaze.

“Captain, I’m sorry. I willfully put the job in jeopardy. I would understand if you-”

“Kestrel, I understand.” Silkfoot looked over at him, and the man’s smile was far gentler than he was used to seeing. “Do I look mad?”

“No,” he returned, feeling for all intents like a schoolboy being disciplined. “But I could have botched the job. Gotten us captured.”

Silkfoot shrugged. “Yeah, you could have, but you didn’t. If I hadn’t trusted you to handle the situation I would have aborted. Sometimes the wind shifts unexpectedly, and we have to deal with it. The past can be a dangerous thing, but you’re here now. That isn’t going to change.”

“I walked through a fog to be here. I might as well not have a past, for all any of those years mattered.”

“Careful my friend,” Silkfoot said, flashing him a grin, “some of the more uptight priests would say you’re a sloth, not appreciating the life you had.”

Kestrel had never considered that. He’d never cared to.

“Do you think I’m a sloth, captain?”

“Me? No. People like you and I wither when we’re tied down. We chase the sun, the wind, and glory. Why bother with a life where there’s no fun or challenge?”

Kestrel smiled. Silkfoot understood. He’d always understood, and that was part of why he’d follow the other man to the ends of the earth. He couldn’t go back to the shadow and the fog. Not anymore.

“If it helps, Captain, I appreciate where we are, and being here with you.”

Silkfoot’s lips curled into a broad grin. “As it should be, Kestrel. Just be careful, I might think you’re trying to flatter me.”

The man broke out into a laugh, and Kestrel joined him, feeling the last of the tension ease away.

“Never. And that I can promise you.”

7 Deadly Sins – Envy

“Welcome, sir. Please come in, the Mistress is expecting you.”

The butler held the heavy wooden door open as the lone guest stepped inside the richly decorated entrance hall. Though he was dressed well he seemed almost out of place in his modernly cut coat and plain tailored shirt and slacks. His long black hair was tied in a simple tail and when he gracefully shrugged off his coat the cuffs of his sleeves pulled back for a moment, exposing the pointed tips and gentle whorls of black ink tattoos that graced his wrists.

He handed his coat over without remark, and to his credit the butler drew no attention to it.

“Thank you. Has your employer any particular rules she would like followed while I’m here?”

For a moment the butler looked open surprised. Given the nature of the guest, he clearly hadn’t expected such a humble question.

“No, sir. I think only that she will be happy to see you.”

“That is good. I’m happy to be of service.” He smiled, warm and pleasant.

The butler swept his hand forward and bade him follow. There was hardly the sound of a footstep as the tall, thin man followed through the opulent hallways.

The butler’s back was straight, his gaze ahead. He had to hand it to the man. Most people were uncomfortable in the presence of an assassin, and it was hardly usual to invite one into your home. The nobility had always had a strange fascination with the assassins guild and their work, despite also regularly being their targets.

But he wasn’t here today to fulfill the request of someone who had been wronged. In fact, as far as the guild’s research could tell, the woman he would be meeting had led a pretty clean life, all said.

No, he was here for another reason; one that marked him different from most of his fellows.

Their way led upstairs, and into a plush study. A grand oak desk stood in the center, along with fine leather couches, and walls filled with books. The scent of herbs filled the air, overwhelming a stubborn hint of tobacco smoke. He recognized them immediately as medicinal, no doubt meant to be a breathing aid. The dark curtains had been drawn back, bathing the room in sunlight, and a gentle breeze blew in through a set of double doors that opened onto a balcony overlooking a blooming garden.

Amber eyes swept the room, scanning instinctively for traps or danger, before coming to rest on the rooms only other occupant.

She was seated in an expensive wheelchair, thin arms resting on a blanket laid over her lap. From this angle all he could see was a thin halo of white hair atop her head, held up by a neck skinnier than someone her height should have been.

That wasn’t surprising, though, given why she’d called him here.

“Mistress, Master Sesha Liatos has arrived.”

Frail, thick-veined hands took hold of the wheels, and the chair turned slowly. It paused several times mid-turn, the shoulders of the woman rising and falling with the effort. Beside him the butler winced, his muscles straining with the effort of staying put; likely a prior order from his employer, though it was clearly not a popular one.

When she’d finished turning the woman’s face was pale from the effort, and she drew in several shallow breaths. Despite that, she seemed to still be fighting to sit up straight, and her eyes remained sharp on her guest.

Sesha always liked to think of it as the stubbornness of nobility, a desire to never appear weak, but it was quite clear to him that she was dying. He had the eyes of both an assassin and a doctor, but he needed neither to see that.

“Thank you, Arin.” The woman’s voice was thick, as if something was stuck in her throat. “Would you like anything to eat or drink, Master Liatos?”

“No thank you, Madame Villara.”

She didn’t press him, instead beckoning him further inside with a quaking hand before dismissing the butler.

He crossed the room and took a seat on one of the leather chairs near her own, running his fingers lightly over the supple fabric. It was real, as was everything else in this place; he knew old wealth when he saw it. Many would have killed to live in a house like this, to posses the wealth of its owner. He was sure many jealously stared at the building as they went past, even while imagining their own name on the postbox.

Sesha felt no such envy.

Though he was surrounded by another sort of opulence every day in his home at the guild hall, those finer things had never drawn his attention. Material goods were transitory, as was power, as much both civilian and assassin alike wanted to deny it. Unlike most of his fellows he was rather content with where he was. Having been chosen so young to be the Guild Master’s personal physician might have had something to do with that, but his position within the Ravens brought him into contact with another sort of death that most assassins rarely saw.

Up close Leise Villara’s cheeks and eyes looked even more sunken, and deep wrinkles creased the corners of each. Her was skin dry like parchment paper, drawn taut over her bones, and her veins were clearly visible through the thin skin. Still, he couldn’t help but note the tinge of red on her lips and a brush of blue around her eyes, the touches of makeup subtle but fitting. Embroidered birds danced delicately on her dress, flying with a freedom she could not hope to gain. Still seeking elegance, even at death’s door.

“Thank you for coming to see me.”

“The guild found your case worthy of our services.” He replied, bowing his head.

“So… how do we do this?”

Straight to the point. That wasn’t unusual in cases like this. Most of his clients weren’t afraid of him, and a good portion welcomed him.

“It is very simple, Madame Villara. Your application has been accepted, however in cases like these it is customary for us to visit and speak with the person in question before final approval. We need to be absolutely sure this is the path you want to take.”

She chuckled, voice wheezing a bit. “You would think people wouldn’t just ask you to do this while playing around. Are there often problems?”

“Occasionally. Jealous or ambitious family members sometimes try to push through applications for the infirm, claiming it is their wish. Others apply, and are approved, but change their minds at the last moment. We take every step of this very seriously.”

“As you should. I admit, I assumed you’d show up in my bedroom one night to do the deed after my application was approved. You’re far more businesslike than I imagined. What if I change my mind?”

“These are the only applications where the guild allows retractions after a contract has been approved. In such an event we will keep your information on file and allow for reapplication. Our goal is to make things as easy and peaceful as possible.”

For the first time the woman’s expression soured.

“Peace? You do it out of pity, you mean. You must know we’ll come crawling right back when it gets to be too much. When you have to call an assassin to end your life what else is there but pity?”

“We do not pity those in your situation, Madame.”

“My situation,” she said, giving a hoarse chuckle, and fixing him with a withering look. “I’m dying, young man. You don’t have to sugar coat it for me.”

“Then I will not. You are dying, but I am here to do all that I can to help you, with dignity.”

“Then help me. Don’t you understand? Everything hurts. I can’t sleep anymore, can barely tolerate anything more than damned soup and bread. I can’t even get up. I’m stuck here either choking on those herbs or my own lungs. You must know who I am, the things I’ve done. To end up… here…” Her words shifted into wheezes and she laid her head back against the chair to try and get her breath. It took time, but when she was finally calm enough again she turned her head back to him, though for the moment it was as if the fight had gone out of her.

“There’s no dignity in death. There’s no choice. Just the pain, and the darkness.”

“That is where you are wrong, Madame. Death is welcoming. It is a warm embrace after a weary life. And, despite what you might think, you do have a choice.”

“Choice?” She laughed, voice ugly and guttural. “That’s easy for you to say. You assassins deal life and death with your own hands. You sweep through the rest of us like gods.”

Sesha was silent a few long moments, drawing in a soft breath before letting it out again.

“The truth is, Madame, I often envy you.”

Her eyes widened, and she looked rather incredulous, before her eyes narrowed.

“Don’t you dare play games with me. I won’t have it. How could you envy someone like me, sitting here waiting to die?”

“Because you have a choice.”

“The choice to die?”

“Yes.Tell me, Madame, why do you go out of your way to dress like you do, to put on makeup, even when you know what’s coming? It must cost you effort, and discomfort, and there’s no point, right?”

“There is a point,” she said, gently rapping her fist on the arm of the chair. “I don’t want to be like one of those people you see laying in bed in their nightshirts, all grey and wan. The ones who already look like ghosts. I won’t have myself seen that way. I still have that left to me.”

“Exactly. But, you also have more than you know. You submitted your application, and now the choice to live or die is yours. You don’t have to wait, if you don’t want to. You can choose to end your suffering right this moment, or continue on for as long as you desire. And those in your position are able to choose the method, if you want. Just like you won’t give up how you look, your situation cannot take this choice from you. Your life, your death, belongs to you. You are free to do with it as you will. Very few people have that opportunity.”

She stared at him, her dark eyes wide as she processed what he’d said. She almost seemed to be grasping for words, and as she thought, some sort of understanding seemed to come into her eyes.

“And you don’t?”

“Not like you. An assassin only has one choice, and taking our lives is not it. Anyone can come to us when they’re in pain, and take their life into their own hands. This is your choice, every part of it. We are not given such a luxury. Death takes assassins too, but we cannot choose it. Our deaths do not belong to us.”

“I- I never really thought about it like that. I just know I don’t want to keep diminishing, to fade away into nothingness. I was never the sort of woman who gave up on anything.”

He paused a moment, a somewhat sad look touching his lips. “Most do not. That is why I envy you. It is the choice I will forever be denied. I’m not glad that this choice is in front of you. No one who comes to us ever takes it lightly, and I truly am sorry you’ve suffered so much. But, you can take comfort knowing that you have control over that which is most precious. Something so important that it makes even an assassin envy you. If you do not wish to fade away, then stand and fight. That is what I am here to help you do.”

She was silent then, and turned her head to look out the open doors at the garden beyond. Sesha wondered what she might be thinking, but didn’t press her. Silence was a welcome thing too, and he truly did want her to choose her own path, no matter what his own feelings were. He might envy, but he would never force.

After a time, Leise lifted her head from the cushion on the back of her chair. She shifted and forced her sluggish body to obey, so she could once again sit up. Despite the weakness, the disease, her frailty, it seemed she’d made a choice.

“I refuse to fade away, or take what I have for granted. If this is my last hill, I will make my stand here. Thank you, Master Liatos. Now, if you would be so kind, tell me what my options are.”

Sesha smiled, a feeling of pride rising in him for her. He always held the greatest respect for his clients, and he had no doubt that she was sure of her path now.

“Of course, Madame. I’d be happy to.”

7 Deadly Sins – Pride

Xavior Ericksson stood to attention as his commanding officer paced back and forth in front of him. The man did not look at all pleased, as evidenced by the frown that currently graced his lips, and the way his brows knit together above his dark blue eyes.

They were in his office, a place where no one in the Division wanted to be called when the boss was in a bad mood. Despite that, and his situation, he held his head high. He didn’t honestly believe he needed to be here but, even so, at the moment the space didn’t feel quite large enough with the way Domerin Lorcasf was moving. The man had somehow perfected the menacing loom down to an art. He could practically exuded authority when he wanted to.

“I still cannot believe you disobeyed my orders and moved in before we were ready.”

“Commander, I don’t understand. We were still able to complete our objective, and in addition were able to secure another target before they even realized we were there. We would not have captured him at all were it not for my actions. He would have gone away and hurt others before we could track him down again.”

“That doesn’t matter.” Domerin’s tone was dismissive, making him chafe under the implication.

“I give the orders I do for a reason, and capturing an extra scrumbag doesn’t give you license to forget that you disobeyed the chain of command. You could have gotten someone killed, pulling a stunt like that, and that is something you cannot ever take back. You acted only for yourself.”

“But I did not act only for myself! Think of all those who will avoid suffering because he is no longer free.”

“That isn’t the point. You did what you did because you were sure you knew best. That stubborn pride in your own skill blinds you. Whatever good might have come out of catching him is overshadowed by your actions. I cannot, and will not, have someone on my team who puts that ahead of the well being of their fellows and the integrity of the mission. If I didn’t think there was potential in you, I’d have had you off the team already.”

That certainly got his attention, and he deflated a little bit. He wanted to believe the other man wouldn’t be rid of him, but he wasn’t the sort who played around either.

“What are you going to do?”

“You will be disciplined. I will have a schedule for you and, for the moment, that starts with taking you off active duty.”

“But you need-”

“I don’t need you, Xavior. Haven’t you been listning?” Domerin’s gaze was like ice for a few moments, before it melted a bit. “Not like this, at any rate. If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it my way, understand?”

This time Xavior held his tongue, and just gave a slight nod.

Domerin considered him a few long moments before nodding.

“As I was saying, you’re off active duty for at least two weeks. You will perform whatever assignments I give you. Instead of missions you will be placed on a special detail, from which I expect not to hear a single complaint, is that clear?”

“Yes, Commander.”

“Good, now let’s go over what you’re going to be doing.”

He’d been shown down into the basement, where he would be spending his special detail. Guard duty should have been exciting, but given how secure this place already was, he doubted he’d be seeing any action. He’d readied himself for boredom, considering this below him. He had no other choice, however. Domerin Lorcasf wasn’t a man to be trifled with, and he really didn’t want to lose his place on the team, knowing Domerin would follow through if he didn’t obey.

It was chilly down in the basement, enough so that he’d been forced to bring along a jacket. It was for the machines that ran the Faenet, he’d been told. The minute they arrived he already didn’t like it. The hum of the machinery drowned out natural sound, and everything felt fake to him; a temple of metal and glass.

He was a man who thrived in nature, under the sky. Down here, the outside world might as well not have existed.

How was he supposed to sit down here all night for weeks?

Despite his feelings he held his head high, not allowing him to show any hint of what was inside. Besides that, he had the distinct feeling he was being watched. He hadn’t appreciated his guide’s tone when she’d wished him good night, either. She might as well have said ‘good luck’.

His post, if it could be called that, was a room that might as well have been a closet. He wouldn’t even be properly patrolling the rooms down here, for fear of something being broken. Instead he’d be monitoring from the claustrophobic closet, sat in a hard metal chair, in front of a bank of monitors fed continual security camera feeds. He’d really only be needed if something went wrong.

Give it to his commander, he knew how to pick the worst punishment possible.

A cursory scan of the room turned up nothing particularly special, though there was a small control panel that let him manually switch between cameras, a small computer for taking logs, and a radio.

He rolled his eyes and pulled a pen and paper out of his jacket pocket, planning to log the old fashioned way. He was well known for being uncomfortable around technology, as he and computers did not get on well, but he’d be damned if he let it get the better of him. He could do this, surely. They were just a bunch of machines.

Experimentally, he flicked one of the buttons that controlled the camera monitors. A loud buzzing sound broke the quiet and he scrambled to shut it off, fumbling for a moment in a not very graceful way.

At least no one had seen-

A disembodied chuckle echoed in the air around him.

“Are you lost?” The voice of a woman spoke, carried over a speaker system set into the ceiling.

It sent a shiver down his spine, but his guide had warned him about this. It was no ghost haunting the halls, but the woman who ran the Faenet. Mainframe, as she called herself. His guide had avoided going past her, but had cautioned him that she was best ignored. He’d had no intentions of engaging her, but it seemed she had other ideas.

“I asked you a question.” The voice came again, when he didn’t immediately answer.

“I’m not lost, no. I am Xavior Ericksson, and I have been assigned as your security for the evening.” He felt a bit stupid, talking to the air, but she responded immediately.

“My custodian, you mean. What did you do?”

Xavior instantly bristled, the self-assured tone of the voice setting him off. He had no doubt what she was asking him and he didn’t appreciate her forwardness.

“I am a member of the Division, not some sort of janitor. And, for your information, I have done nothing wrong. It is unwise to make such assumptions.”

A laugh echoed over the system.

“They only give this job out as a punishment. No one wants to be down here with me.”

Oddly, he thought she sounded almost proud of that.

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Miss Mainframe, I have committed no such offense.”

There was silence, long enough for him to wonder if she’d iven up, but his hope was soon dashed.

“Xavior Ericksson, Division Private, personnel number 13612-A5. Currently on disciplinary probation for disobeying orders under the command of Dom-”

“Stop!” He drew to his feet, looking around wildly for a moment, but of course there was no face to glare at. It was hardly fair, sticking him in here with someone he couldn’t properly see. “My personal details are none of your business.”

“So touchy,” she tutted, without a hint of apology. “I hardly think someone on probation has any right to protest. I have a right to know who’s guarding me, don’t I?”

He was sure he heard mocking in his voice, and he narrowed his eyes at the monitor in front of him labeled ‘Main Tank’, even if it gave him no edge. He didn’t appreciate being made a fool of.

“Everything digital is my business.” Came the voice of Mainframe, matter-of-factly. “It all flows right through my head. I could read every email you’ve ever sent, if I wanted to.”

“So what? Is that supposed to impress me?” He hoped his tone carried his disdain. He cared little for the digital, really only using it when he had no other option. He would have filed paper reports if the Division allowed it. “Digital isn’t even that important. We could live without all that guff.”

Not important!? Do you live under a rock? Nothing would get done.”

He took some pleasure in that she finally sounded something other than totally assured.

“Life got on for a long time without the digital. It’s not even tangible. Not like this desk, or you or I. You can’t touch it, tasted, it or smell it.” He lifted his chin, as if daring her to challenge him.

“I touch it every day, Xavior Ericksson. As surely as you touch a sword. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not real. Now I really am convinced you live under a rock.”

Xavior refused to answer, instead sitting back down in his chair, in the little room that was starting to feel more and more like a prison with each passing moment. He cared little about her words. Besides, it wasn’t as if she could-

“Judging by the horrendous typing in your reports I’m guessing you’re not very good with computers. Good thing they don’t let you lot mess with any of my systems. With my luck you’d end up crash the entire Faenet.”

He bristled again, but held his tongue against further retort. He wasn’t going to spend the next two weeks letting himself be goaded by the mysterious Mainframe. Domerin had said no complaints.

“If you really do run the entire Faenet, I’m sure you must have many more important things to be doing right now than going through my files.”

“Oh no doubt, but this is fun, isn’t it?”

No wonder his guide had told him to ignore her. He got the feeling she did this to everyone assigned down here, and he would not let his professional pride be shattered or made a mockery of. He was better than this. Instead of answering he leaned over his pad, and started to write.

“So, how long are you assigned to me?” Her voice broke into his thoughts, sounding from a speaker just to the left of the bank of monitors. She might as well have been sitting right in front of him, and he wasn’t sure he appreciated the unsettling intimacy.

“That is none of your business.” He got the feeling she didn’t care. It hadn’t stopped her from making it her business thus far.

Silence reigned long enough that Xavior thought, perhaps, he’d finally get some consideration, but then her voice returned, dripping with malevolent glee.

“Two weeks. Oh we’re going to have so much fun together, aren’t we Xavior? I can’t wait.”

Xavior grunted softly, and tried his best to focus. This might just end up being the longest two weeks in his entire life.

7 Deadly Sins – Greed

Robin sat in the living room of the quarters she shared with her husband, curled up on the comfortable couch. Their dog, Henderson, laid on the floor nearby, snoring softly. It was quiet, outside of the gentle, constant hum of the ship as it traveled through the stars.

She’d had such a hard time with those noises when her father had first brought her aboard, unsettled by them, but now they were a welcome part of her life, the background noise to her everyday. Her mind drifted back over those early days with her father, and she couldn’t help but smile.

It was a bittersweet thing. He’d been gone nearly five years now, and she missed him every single day. Now, after having recently learned she was pregnant, she missed him even more and was holding out hope that he’d be back before her due date. He deserved a chance to meet his grandchild.

She knew he was out there, somewhere, and that he’d come back. She wanted to be ready for him when he did, to give him things she hadn’t been able to before. It had lodged in her mind, the quest to improve the technology of his bionics.

Pulling herself out of her reverie, she went back to looking over the datapad she was cradling in her lap. She’d been watching the progress of a shipment of specialized Taimox Corp microservos, after a tip off from a contact she’d made at one of the larger trading stations.

She needed them, badly. Even with her father missing she’d been steadily and determinedly working on improvements to his bionics. Things hadn’t been easy in the wake of his disappearance, and the mess left behind after all the attacks, but as new races rose and added their knowledge, the years had started to provide her with a bloom of new materials and technologies.

She knew her father would be proud, if he were here to see it, and she wanted a finished prototype ready to go for when he returned.

The problem was the shipment was going to a shady corporation, for who knew what purpose, when she needed them much more. Even one would do, though it would be inconvenient. She’d gone to Rilan, to try and talk him into at least sending a team after them, but he’d shut her down quickly. Not even her sweetest look had managed to sway him, which had disgruntled her to no end.

Her father could return any day, and she’d be damned if she let him come back to the same level of pain he’d been living with for so long. Rilan might not believe that her father was going to return, but she knew what the tree had told her. It wouldn’t lie, not about something like this.

Henderson lifted his head and gave a soft ruff just before the door swished open. Daniel came in, carrying a bag full of take out containers of dinner from the mess. The dog jumped up to greet him, dancing around his legs as he went to settle his cargo on the kitchen table.

“It’s Anchean burgers tonight. One of your favorites.” She heard him say in the background, as he ruffled the fur on the back of the dog’s neck.

She didn’t respond right away, eyes scanning through the last of the report she’d been sent.

“Honey?”

She looked up as the couch suddenly depressed, startled, and found her husband sitting across from her, a puzzled look on his face.

“Is everything all right?”

“What? Oh, yes, I’m just busy. Sorry babe,” she said, giving him an apologetic look, shifting so she could lean forward and press a soft kiss to his lips.

“Must be something important if it can distract you from Lin’s burgers. I half expected you to jump me when I brought them in.”

She laughed, but her heart wasn’t totally in it, and she couldn’t help but glance down at the pad in her lap.

Daniel reached out and lightly brushed her turquoise dyed hair back, tucking it behind an ear.

“Robin, honey, what is it? I can tell something is bothering you.”

She bit her lip, not sure she wanted to talk about it, but knew he’d pester her until she did.

“Those microservers will be arriving on Bastion in a week.”

“You’re still obsessing over those things?” He sounded mildly exasperated. “I thought Rilan told you to forget about it.”

“He did,” she countered, lifting her chin slightly. “But he’s wrong. I can’t just forget about it. I need them Daniel. You don’t understand.”

“What’s there to understand? You want the commander to send resources away from the company to chase down parts that don’t belong to us?”

“They’re not just any parts. You don’t understand,” she snapped, pulling away from her husband and half throwing herself off the couch. Henderson scrambled out from below her feet just in time. She stalked across the room and started to unpack the food, hoping that signaled her desire not to talk about it anymore.

Daniel was more sensitive to things than he used to be, at least when it came to her, and usually he left her alone until she felt like bringing things up again.

She heard the clicking of Henderson’s nails on the floor. The dog butted up gently against her leg, but when she turned she saw he was accompanied by Daniel, who was holding her abandoned datapad.

“What is this?” He held it up, waving it at her, the message she’d last been reading still open.

Robin nearly groaned. She’d forgotten to lock the screen.

“It’s nothing.” She grabbed for the device, but he swung it away before she could manage.

“It’s not nothing, Robin! Who is this Van Hua, and why are you messaging them about chartering their company for an operation on Bastion?”

She felt her cheeks burning, and sputtered.

“Well, if you hadn’t invaded my privacy and looked through my messages, you would have found out later. I was going to talk to you about it.”

“About what? I don’t understand, honey.”

Robin turned to face him. She pushed down her anger, and tried to look seeking instead. Her husband liked to make her happy; surely she could talk him into this.

“About… you and I taking a short trip away. To Bastion.”

“Are you kidding me? We can’t just up and leave. We’re on route to a job.”

“Yes, we can. We have an excuse if we tell them I need a specialist’s care. You and I can take a transport to the nearest station and go from there.”

“Robin, no. How could you even think of using your pregnancy as an excuse for this? Your need for those things has blinded you. You need to let this go.”

Robin felt her anger growing, and she turned on her husband.

“This is about my father, isn’t it? You never liked him! I bet you’d be happy if he never came back!”

“That’s not true, Robin. You know I would nev-”

“Then what is it? Why won’t you let me have this? I need to do it!”

“No, you don’t, Robin. It’s not worth the risk.”

“Why? Because you think my father isn’t coming back? The tree told me he’s alive! I know he’s out there!”

Tears blurred her eyes and her voice cracked. She needed those servos. No one else would use them in the way she could.

She felt a soft touch on her shoulders and then Daniel’s arms slid around her, drawing her against his chest.

Part of her wanted to fight him off, but it was a small part, and she buried her face against his shirt.

“I believe you, honey.” His voice came, gentle and soothing.”I’ve always believed you. I’m not saying don’t do it because it’s for your father. I’m saying don’t do it because of the risk. What happens if you get hurt, or killed? What would Domerin do if he came back and you weren’t here?”

His words felt like a bucket of ice water dumped over her head.

“It’s true your father and I didn’t really get on, but I don’t think he’d want you to do this for him. Am I wrong?”

Robin didn’t say anything right away, her mind fighting with her, trying to tell her all the reasons why she should push her husband away and finish making her plans. But, deep down, her need and stubbornness be damned, she knew he was right. If her father came back and she’d crafted him the perfect bionics, she could just imagine the look on his face if she told him she’d put herself in danger to make them.

She knew her father, better than most would ever be able to claim to, but her greed had blinded her.

She let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, and her shoulders sagged.

“You’re not wrong. I just… I miss him. This baby has only driven that home more. I want to have something for him when he comes home. I guess I thought… maybe the work would call to him somehow. It’s stupid, I know.”

Daniel’s arms wrapped tighter around her for a few moments.

“It’s not stupid, love. Of course you miss him, and I know you want him to come home. He will, when it’s time for it to happen. I like to think I’ve learned a little something about your father over the years from you and I think, more than anything, he’ll be happy to see you. The rest is dressing. You’ll come up with something, but don’t get greedy, all right? It’s not worth your safety.”

“I hear you. I’ll let it go,” she said, and finally melted into him and holding him tightly.

Eventually she drew back and looked up at him, a little smile on her lips.

“I never thought I’d see the day you sounded like my dad, babe. I’m sure he’ll be delighted to hear that too.”

Daniel sputtered a bit, and it seemed she’d stunned him into silence for the moment.

Laughing, she drew away, and went back to unpacking their dinner.

7 Deadly Sins – Wrath

“Seibel.”

The scent of fresh baking bread permeated the large, tidy, kitchen. Flowers and herbs, growing in the garden outside, added their own bouquet through the open window, carried in on a gentle breeze. Afternoon sun shone inside, casting everything in a lovely warm glow. It was beautiful. A perfect day.

He hated every inch of it.

He wanted little more than to tear the pots from where they hung, to fling the family crockery to the ground in a massive, broken, heap. In his mind he pictured himself slamming the window closed so hard the glass shuddered. At least it would keep the damned sun out of here. It was all too normal. It was wrong. The world was laughing at him.

“Seibel.”

His father’s voice broke into his thoughts, and he tore his gaze away from the slice of green and blue paradise he’d been glaring at through the open window.

What?

“I was saying, you do not have to do this.” The man’s voice was firmer now, but no less caring.

He didn’t answer.

His father and mother had been here since the news had reached them. Now they were trying to dissuade him from leaving, from avenging his wife’s death.

Seibel’s fingers curled into a fist, nails cutting into his palm. He welcomed the pain. It understood him. When it looked as if his father were going to speak more empty reassurances he slammed his fist down hard on the thick wooden table.

“Yes, I do!”

A shudder rocked the teacups arrayed between them, liquid sloshing over the edge of the one closest to him. He felt a perverse glee at the shocked look on his mother’s face, her eyes widened in disbelief at his outburst.

Maybe that would open her eyes, make her understand. He wasn’t the same mild househusband he’d been. His blood boiled and he could no longer find rest or peace here.

The anger inside of him only grew hotter as her expression shifted to one of concern.

“Your place is here, my son. What about the house? The lands?”

“They don’t mean anything, mother. Not to me. It’s just bricks, and wood, and dirt.”

“But it was her house. Her home. She shared it all with you.”

Instead of being reassured Seibel narrowed his eyes. He didn’t want to hear this, and he wished his parents would stop. Though he loved them, part of him wanted them to hurt as he hurt, so they would understand why he needed to do this.

“And she’s not here anymore. What am I supposed to do? Just sit here baking bread while those things rampage through our lands? Should I stand only when they appear on my doorstep? You want me to do nothing? The house will be fine. You are all are free to stay as long as you want, and we have a steward to care for the place otherwise. This house isn’t going to stop me from joining the army.”

The two older elves looked at each other, worry touching their features.

“And the children?” His father asked. The man straightened up, looking much like he had when he’d been a child in trouble.”You would leave your boys behind to run away into this… this madness?”

A stab of pain twisted his insides at those words, and he bent forward a bit as he tried to tame his wildly beating heart. His children. They were so young, and they still couldn’t quite understand that their mother wasn’t coming home ever again. The monsters had taken her from them all. In those first days he’d though he could do nothing to ease the pain, but he’d realized that was wrong. He could fight, and kill, and protect.

The anger he’d been feeling suddenly swelled inside and he turned on his parents. How dare they try to turn him from his path by using his children?

“How dare you. Madness? Was it madness when Laleh fought for us all? I am doing what she did! For her. If you can’t understand that I don’t see the point in continuing this conversation. The boys will be fine. They’ll understand.”

“And what are you going to tell them?”

“That I’m going away for awhile. They’ll understand.”

“Seibel, child-”

But he wasn’t having any more of it. He stood so quickly it pushed the chair back, nearly knocking it to the floor.

“I leave in two days time. Stay, if you like, or go, but you will not sway me from my path.”

And with that he stalked out of the room, leaving his stunned parents behind.

The night before he was to leave, Seibel worked to pack the satchels he would take with him.

His brother had joined him, offering to advise him on what to take. He’d been wary at first, only agreeing let him in since Lysandir had not spoken against his choice.

“You won’t need that, Seibel.” His brother said, as he’d been about to add some clothing to the bag. “They’ll give you standard issue everything, at first.”

“Thank you.” His parents had barely spoken to him over the past day. At least his brother was willing to help. He was a solider, he understood.

Lysandir toyed with a pair of socks he’d laid on the bed.

“The army isn’t exactly big on individuality. They try to work that out of you pretty quickly. They don’t want troops who disobey orders. It’s not an easy transition to make.”

“I can imagine it’s not for someone who’s not determined.”

“It’s not easy for anyone, even those who become the strongest warriors.”

Seibel noticed how his brother carefully avoided adding his wife’s name to that list.

“I’ll manage, Lys, but thank you for the warning.” Already his tone was crisp, a subtle reminder of what he did not wish to speak of.

Lysandir was looking at him, green eyes taking him in. They’d always been close, though he didn’t see his brother often these days. He could tell the man was debating whether or not to speak.

“Don’t just sit there, brother. Spit it out.”

The edge of a frown tugged at the corners of his brother’s mouth.

“You’ve only ever known sturdy homes like these. They are luxurious compared to an army camp; practically heaven when compared to one on a battlefield. What are you going to do when you find yourself sleeping in a tent in the cold mud?  You don’t know anything about being a solider.”

Instantly he stopped, eyes narrowed.

“It doesn’t matter. I know enough. They’ll show me the rest.”

“More like show you the basics and then throw you at the enemy first chance they get. They’re desperate for green recruits just like you, eager to defend the homeland. What are you going to do the first time you charge the enemy, Sei? It’s not like how they present it in the stories. It’s horrible, bloody carnage.You think just because Laleh could do it, you can too?”

“Don’t use her name against me! Who do you think was there every time she came home from all that? Who eased her weary spirit and sat with her each time a nightmare woke her? I know the horrors better than most civilians do. You really think I would do this without a thought?”

The thought of his wife caused his chest to constrict. He’d seen the horror of war etched in her face, but he didn’t care if it ruined him. He would destroy every last orc, would fight until the breath left his body.

There was no other path for him but in her footsteps, no redemption but in the blade. They would know his pain and his anger.

“This isn’t thought, Seibel! It’s grief, and you’re going to feed yourself to the beast because of it.”

“Enough! You’re just like mother and father. I would have thought you, of all people, would understand.”

“I do! You’re not the first I’ve seen. That’s why I know you don’t run off to join the army in your state. It’s suicide.”

Seibel fixed his brother with an icy stare.

“No, it’s revenge. It’s all those creatures deserve.”

He hoped his rage was plain on his face, daring his brother to speak more.

Lysandir’s frown only deepened but, for perhaps the first time in their lives, he turned away. He set the socks back down on the bed, and when he looked back up there was sadness in his green eyes.

“Do as you wish, my brother. But be warned as to where you may end up. Vengeance is cold, and lonely. Life doesn’t wait for those who walk that road.”

“I care not.” Life didn’t need him, nor he it.

Lysandir said nothing else, merely resigned himself, and helped him finished packing.

The morning of his departure was foggy and mild, and he’d set out well before the sun could burn away the mist.

No one had come to see him off, no doubt in protest, and he’d left well before the children would be up. He would miss their smiling faces, but the steady flame inside of him would not be denied. They would understand.

“Papa!”

The happy cry broke through the mist, but he didn’t need to see to know who it belonged to, and that they shouldn’t be out alone here. He drew his horse to a halt, looking around frantically for his son, Esrafel.

“Here papa!” The call came again and the mist parted enough for him to see the boy waving at him, from his seat in the crook of Lysandir’s arm.

The momentary panic was replaced with that familiar anger, which grew as he dismounted and approached. The fog recoiled from him, almost as if it melted away, to reveal his father and his mother holding his younger son, who looked half asleep.

How dare they bring his children out here, now. He knew exactly what they were trying to do and it only fueled the flames inside of him. Even so, he tried to school his expression, not wanting that anger to show in front of his children.

He approached and Esrafel reached out for him, and he took the child from his uncle’s arms.

“What are you all doing out here?” He kept his tone light, but the pointed look in his eyes surely told the other adults how he felt about this.

“Grandmother woke us up so we could say goodbye before you went on your trip. I wish you didn’t have to go, papa. Aryn said so too. We like it when you’re home.”

His son’s words pulled at his heart, and he drew him close against his chest, hugging him tightly for a few moments. He loved his children, truly, and he did not want to leave them behind.

For a few long moments hesitated, thoughts of his wife swirling in his mind, the pain of her loss still so fresh. Her memory tugged at him and he could not let go what had been done to her. The fire burned inside of him, growing ever stronger, slowly consuming his heart.

He drew back and lightly stroked his son’s blonde hair, so much like his mother’s.

“I know, but I have to go. I need to help keep you all safe, and I have things that need done.”

“Things that are more important than your children?” His father’s voice broke in, and Seibel narrowed his eyes slightly at the man.

“At the moment, yes.” He looked down at the child in his arms, his look softening. “You understand, don’t you Esra?”

His son looked up at him, eyes a bit wide, though it was clear by the puzzled look on his face that he didn’t really understand the full implications of what was going on.

“You won’t be gone for long, will you?” He asked instead.

“I don’t know for sure, my darling, but I’ll come home as soon as I can.” He knew, even as he said it, it wasn’t a promise he could keep. “Until then you’ll have grandmother and grandfather to watch over you, and you’ll be man of the house. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Esrafel seemed to perk up a bit and nodded, seeming to take it as if it were going to be a little vacation.

Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to the boy’s forehead, and Esra responded by pecking him on the cheek, and leaning in to hug him. Seibel held him tightly for a few moments before handing him back to Lysandir.

His mother looked as if she were holding back tears as she held out his younger son for him to take, and he cradled the half awake child to his chest before pressing a similar kiss to his forehead.

“Sleep well, my little Aryn, and dream sweetly.” He was young enough he might not fully remember these moments, or this morning. Perhaps that was for the best.

He drew in a breath and handed the child back to his mother.

A chill breeze blew around them for a few moments, though no one spoke. Lysandir looked stonyfaced, his parents a mix of upset and angry, but at this point everything had already been said.

“Keep well, everyone. I will be in touch.”

He couldn’t bear to stay any longer and turned to mount his horse.

When he glanced toward the group, like an island in the billowing fog, he saw tears running down his mothers face, unable to hold them back any longer. Esrafel had already taken notice and was looking increasingly distraught. There’d be no hiding it now. Fighting the urge to dismount and comfort his son he turned his horse away quickly.

He hadn’t gone a few feet before he heard small footsteps pounding on the ground behind him.

“Papa! Papa, don’t go!”

He couldn’t go back home. He couldn’t be a father to his children like this, not when every atom of his being demanded revenge, and blood to be paid for what had been stolen from him.

“Come back!”

He swallowed the lump in his throat, and sat up straighter, steeling his back. With each hoofbeat the flames spread where his heart should be. With each moment it became easier to ride away. He spurred his horse on, not looking back.

Papa!

The fog, and the fire of his hatred, swallowed his son’s cries as he rode away to war.