CHP38

“—interesting piece of work,” Sael said as he averted his eyes sharply from the drawing and to his younger brother, who bore the soul of Acryan.

“Striking, isn’t she?” he said.

“Oh, yes, that’s why she caught my eye. Green eyes? I’ve never seen a serr—raien with green eyes before.” Sael said, and Briel didn’t miss his stumble and a glint of Acryan’s joy flickered in his eyes.

“I’m not sure on that one. I think they’re green, or maybe it’s her fires in her eyes?” Briel shifted anxiously. “I keep getting small glimpses of her, visions, blurry things.”

“I guess that’s all you really care about, you know? Finding Sai?” Sael smiled at him, and he swallowed hard.

Briel nodded and gestured Sael over to a few dusty stools reserved for posing, but that really didn’t matter all too much. Briel folded himself over onto one and stared at the King Sael Afryth of the Acerrai, his older brother.

“So… You’ve known about me for a while?” Sael asked.

“Only…only very recently and not from any of my counsel, just my own knowledge I got from… you know….” Briel made a frustrated gesture at his temple.

“Yes. I can understand that.”

Sael gazed at all the things in the studio, the half-finished paintings, the curling and chipping filagree, and years of spilled paints on the floor. Acryan made this place his own over the millennia.

Acryan existed as a warlord at one point, but in times of peace, he had no place in this world, and he used that spare time to learn things. Sael had known Tuval somewhat in his last life, a boisterous short man with a lust for… well… everything.

“You know, I don’t understand how this works… Part of me wants to view you as Tuval, as Acryan, but… here you are, my brother.” Sael folded his hands in his lap.

Briel leaned over on his stool and let his tail slither free. He made it swish back and forth idly behind him as he thought about it. Even his mannerisms were a little like hers, his mother, Niala, some of her seraph instinct.

Sael, from what Briel remembered from Tuval, hardly ever put his tail away. He slept with it out, kept it out at all times in his lands. He bore his sigil with pride unless he had to be around humans or Enai. Briel seemed more reserved with it, unsure of it.

Sael reached his hand to his heart and clenched, tail curling in a slight cringe.

“Please, don’t be upset. It’s hard for me to form the words. I’m myself, Briel, in every sense of the word, but it’s memories that come to me and this personality will own the ‘warlord’ for my lifetime. He comes in and out, but he’s only active fully when he senses Sai or something of her.” Briel’s lips twisted in thought and reverie over it.

Sael’s thoughts seemed to be elsewhere.

“Would it have made any difference?” Sael finally asked as his mind split the trail of the conversation with the petering thoughts.

“Would what have?” Briel sat up a little straighter.

“Kael having you.”

“If I say ‘no,’ you’d know I was lying. I admit I needed a seraph to guide me in this body. I have no idea how to use this tail right. I don’t know my fires well. I don’t even know how to do that thing you do with your teeth where they look all vicious!”

Sael groaned, “The phoenix, it’s hit or miss if their teeth need it, but Acerrai and anything with Acerrai in it needs them filed down. Otherwise, you’re just a wolf. I bet they’re even cooking your damn food.” Sael grimaced.

“I actually intervened on that part,” Zaien interjected. Sael cut his eyes sharply, startled. His aura of longing spiked.

Did he forget Zaien was here? Something has him more on edge than just meeting me, surely.

“The enai also give him iron supplements for the paleness, thing….” Zaien whispered.

“What is with you people and wanting to tamper with good food? Bloody, raw, that’s what you need! Liver,” Sael grumbled. “Father will have so much fun teaching you.” Sael sighed, but something nagged at Briel. Something within Sael’s eyes simmered, and the part of Briel that was Acryan sensed the anger of the black Seraph.