Author warns, yet again.

Take care! Even this author is concerned for what she wrote. Disturbing imagery ahead!!

"The entire Verlice- Huxley force is after you."

"Yes"

"They know you are here."

"Yes"

Wolfram nodded thoughtfully and tossed another branch into the cackling fire.

"And we are throwing a slumber party." he remarked, voice oozing with sarcasm, like honey off a particularly sassy spoon. "Makes perfect sense."

"Anyone would run away." River crouched dangerously close to the fire; eyes glued on the dancing flame. "That's why we are not."

The youngster had spent the last hour or so staring at the flames with deep concentration, his crystal blue eyes glowing like a burning ocean. He didn't want to move his eyes from their cozy posture because he liked the pleasant sting it gave him. The constant dull ache made the gears in his head turn faster, somehow, enabling him to think with clarity.

With his head propped on River's lap, Raven was soundly dozing off. The king pitched a hissy fit and yelled that he wanted to keep the awful task of dressing on, even though Wolfram begrudgingly agreed to heal his injuries. Now, with his hands tucked behind his chin and a soft snore, the exhausted man lay curled up on the ground, peacefully asleep.

Val and Aithan kept an eye outside in case another battalion of soldiers attacked. River felt heavy guilt sitting in the pit of his stomach, clawing at his lungs. He loathed inconveniencing them in this way, so he was determined to devise a well thought out plan for their future expedition, even if it meant roasting his eyeballs or staying up all night.

With a trace of frustration, Wolfram took River by the nape of his neck and yanked him back. "Didn't your mama tell you not to stare at open fires?"

"Mama died before she could say hello." River deadpanned. However, a tinge of bitterness seethed into his voice; like it always did whenever he mentioned his mother.

Blinking away the persistent bright spots in his vision, River chuckled at Wolfram's scolding glare; the mirth not reaching his reddened eyes.

"Not amusing. Noted." He put his hand up defensively, before the elder could give him an earful about disrespecting the deceased.

Wolfram's expression softened slightly, though the tense lines between his brows remained. He regarded his friend with genuine concern etched onto the corners of his lips.

Wolfram scooted closer to the fire and rested his head on the younger boy's shoulder. River's body felt incredibly fragile, as if it might crumble apart like a bamboo puppet under the weight of his skull. He was even slightly swaying in harmony with how Raven's chest was rising and falling, looking completely spaced out.

"Don't go to Queensend." Wolfram poked River's cheek, to snap him out of his stupor. He winced at how his finger hit the hardness of teeth rather than the expected softness of flesh. "Riv, promise me you won't."

River jabbed a dry twig into the fire, shooting tiny sparks into the cool night air. For a minute, they glowed brightly like fireflies before fading to ashes. River inhaled Aithan's bold earthy scent clinging to Wolfram's skin. He was soaked in that smell, like he was wrapped in a never-ending loving embrace.

River felt a pang of hot jealousy sinking into his heart like a sharp, poisoned needle.

He smelled like smoke, grass, and blood—the sickening blend of recent violence. He had smelled like mold that clung to East Wing walls, he had smelled like dust and decay. He carried the scent of old wrinkly blueprints with him. Sometimes of fresh laundry or oil that he used to keep blades from dulling.

But he had never smelled like another person.

"You are silent." Wolfram glanced up at his friend, light silver eyes wide with worry.

River had no clue how to ease his distress, or what ailed him to this level of clinginess out of nowhere, in the first place. He seemed to be on edge since he returned; fidgety and uneasy. Even his sharp verbal attacks, which River had grown accustomed to, lacked their usual ferocity, and seemed muted.

But no matter how much he wanted to; River couldn't find the words to ask him what troubled him. The words of concern seemed stuck in his throat like a disgusting hair ball, refusing to choke out. His skin was crawling from Wolfram's warmth, palpable anxiety oozing out of his pores and smearing all over River. His head was buzzing with white noise as he feverishly struggled between the urge to embrace Wolfram in a hug and the fiery desire to push him off his shoulder.

"I'm scared." Wolfram admitted, a confession that could have gone unheard of in the sizzling of the fire if River was not listening.

"Something bad is going to happen." He curled further into the nook of River's neck, breathing raggedly. "I can feel it."

River blinked a few times, feeling himself falling further into the abyss that sucked all words out of him. He had so much to say, yet all of them died pathetically on the tip of his tongue. Everything he could say seemed to fall short while everything he couldn't seemed too heavy for an already troubled heart.

"I miss Emby" Wolfram drew an awkward shape on the fat layer of dust they were sitting on, smudging his finger with dirt and soot. Usually, he would retch at the thought of filth getting stuck under his prized nails. Even his fan, which was essentially an extension of his limb was missing from his grasp, abandoned to a side.

"I hope everyone is ok back home."

Home.

The needle twisted wickedly, cutting deeper in to River.

"Are you asleep?"

"I'm listening." 

"I think Seagull likes you." Wolfram chuckled, apparently misunderstanding River's silence to be a sign of irritation. He was trying to discreetly somersault into a more lighthearted topic, River knew.

There is nothing about me worth liking.

Raven stirred a little in his sleep, nuzzling closer to River's stomach. He sighed contently, a ghost of a smile painting his face in a childlike innocence. River wandered what he was dreaming of, for him to look so serene.

"I can't promise you anything, Wolfy" River sighed, dragging the conversation back to where it began. "I have to do what I have to do."

"Have I told you that you remind me of Kai?" Wolfram giggled, wiping his eyes.

"Kaizer?" River repeated, absent mindedly. He wanted to dry Wolfram's tear-stained cheeks and rip the soured frown off his face. He desperately needed to force feed him happiness, until his mouth was frozen in a permanent warm smile. But he had not learnt how to do that; maybe it was fated to be a power only Aithan possessed. So, he settled for a cheeky remark.

"Should I feel proud or insulted?"

"I never use my brother's name in the same sentence as a compliment." Wolfram rolled his eyes.

"I have to do what I have to do." He echoed bitterly, as if the phrase was a mouthful of glass shards he was forced to swallow. "He says that all the time too, in a disturbingly similar tone."

River nodded, unable to produce a proper response.

He was gaping at the flame again, addicted to way the heat fanned into his eyes, making them water. Amidst the cold darkness of Cinderlash manor and its ruins, this was his only solace. If he stared too long into the pitch blackness of this abandoned chamber, he would be six again. He'd rather let the fire claim him like a moth, than to spiral down that hell hole.

"But he looks like he is in so much pain when he does." Wolfram continued, drawing more lines on the floor. "It sounds like desperate cry for help."

River wished for his eyes to catch fire, like two gasoline-soaked cotton balls, and drip down his cheeks in a gooey mess. He desired nothing more than to burn and return to the pile of dust and bellow of smoke, from which he was molded from.

He suddenly wanted to die a slow, tragic, painful death.

"You both look so sad all the time." Wolfram placed his arm across River's.

"You know, he never really explains why. He keeps all his worries to himself, never letting me or Einar in. He faces all his struggles alone, and it always ends up making things worse for him."

River laced his fingers together to hold them back from touching the fire. He wanted to hold this treacherous thing in his palms, feel it licking up his skin. He could almost feel it kissing him, leaving behind a trail of blistering, pus filled love bites.

"Like when he had this special someone," Wolfram laughed suddenly, like he was recalling something incredibly funny.

"But he never told us who it was. Einar and I pestered him endlessly, but he stayed silent, insisting that this person deserved someone better. Einar even tried getting him drunk to spill the beans."

"It did not work." River sighed.

"It didn't." Wolfram cackled loudly, completely forgetting that Raven was sleeping. Or he did not care. River signaled him to keep it down, laying a finger over his lips. Raven groaned a little but gladly didn't wake up.

"He was so lovesick that even Gods started praying for him out of sheer pity. I swear on West god! It was quite the show." Wolfram whisper shouted, his eyes glittering almost golden under the orange halo that blanketed them.

"Did master find out who it was?" River asked, failing to keep the melancholy out of his voice. "I want him to know before he-"

"He once wrote a letter, ok?" Wolfram interrupted him, his previous gloominess gone like dew under the morning sun.

"He fed three stacks worth of failed attempts to the fireplace, as if he were maiden penning love letters to an entire battalion of distant suitors. The poor fireplace almost threw up from the sheer volume of paper!"

Wolfram's face lit up like a festival bonfire at the memory, while River looked on with a mix of sympathy and amusement, listening to West king's romantic calamity.

"If being a damsel in distress was contagious, he could single handedly get all three realms clamoring for a cure." He added. "He even kissed the letter once, thought it through, and burnt it crying."

"How do you know?"

"We were spying on him of course" Wolfram picked up the fan and snapped it open with a whip. "Einar almost peed his pants laughing."

"What happened after?" River questioned, already knowing the end of the story.

"He gave it to Einar" Wolfram was clutching his sides now, almost falling into the fire with how hard he was laughing. "And then, oh, Einar graciously asked him which fair lady he should deliver it to."

River's hand flew up to his face so quickly that for a moment, he thought someone else had slapped him.

"He then grabbed the letter and stomped away like a toddler!" Wolfram wiped a tear rolling down his face. "I think he gave it to her himself and got brutally turned down because he moped around for a month."

"Can't blame him." River sighed bitterly, his heart aching for the West king.

There's no greater torment than willingly diving headfirst into the sea of love, only to find yourself swimming with the village idiot.

"Those were good times," Wolfram murmured, his voice heavy with longing. His face contorted into a painful expression, the ache of nostalgia clouding his eyes with tears. "Then he had to marry Narin, Einar fell ill, and everything changed."

Wolfram curled into himself, hugging his knees tightly under his chin. "I couldn't heal him," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, choked with emotion. Fresh tears cascaded down his cheeks.

 "After all he did for us, I couldn't save him. What's the point of being a healer? What use am I if I can't even protect my own family?"

Family

A second needle dug into River's heart, far more painful than the first.

"Kai will be happy again if he was ok, don't you think?" Wolfram quipped feebly. "I will give up my own life if it means he would live a long happy life."

"I know they both would do the same for you." River gave his friend a reassuring smile. "They love you so much, after all."

Love

The third needle was nowhere near as gentle as the first two.

River finally caved in, and draped his arms around Wolfram, pulling him close. He would pay for the end of his days if he didn't do this now.

"I'm sorry." He whispered before he could catch himself.

"None of it is your fault, Riv" Wolfram returned the awkward embrace with such warmth and honesty that it shot another vicious needle into his ribcage, like a final nail on a closed casket.

If River had the choice, he would submerge himself in a tub of milk and honey, ridding his mortal body of all filth. He would put on the heavy golden crown and walk another twenty miles leaving a trail of blood in wake, all the while smiling. If he could, he would let Kaizer Schulz wash the altar with his putrid blood. He would die the happiest death knowing he saved someone so precious and loved.

He would have no complains, trading his bleak existence for such a divine course. He would even kiss Kaizer's feet for putting him out of his misery, for making such a sacred sacrifice out of his revoltingly disgusting self.

But he couldn't. He was condemned to a far tormenting demise.

He had to do, what he had to do.

"Can I get a hug too?"

Val's sharp voice sliced through his reverie like a knife. Even Aithan, standing nearby, couldn't suppress a smirk at the sight of the youngsters, snugly nestled together in a heap of warm bodies. The scene was almost comical, like a litter of tired puppies, tangled and content in their shared warmth.

"We set up a sigil." Val crashed down on the floor, beaming at his achievement. "If they get close to the courtyard Big Brother Alistair will be alerted."

"Yes." Aithan nodded and sat next to Wolfram, who immediately went to cuddle up with him like the little traitor he was.

Val rolled up his sleeves and started stuffing the fire with more branches. They had brought in a large pile of them inside from the courtyard to last them through the rest of the night.

"We should wake Seagull up and figure out our next steps," Wolfram suggested with a weary frown, though he looked like he might nod off any minute against Aithan's chest. Aithan's gentle patting on Wolfram's head didn't help at all. Watching them would make even fish yawn.

"Let him sleep a bit more." River sighed, although he could no longer feel his legs. "Let us all cherish the peace and quiet while it lasts."

Val poked him with a branch and chuckled. "He is out cold."

But his voice seemed like coming from above water to River.

He blinked once. Then twice.

He was certain that staring at the fire had done its fair share of damage because there was no way he was actually seeing what he was seeing.

He grabbed Val's arm, making the man yelp and drop his beloved stick in surprise.

No.

He was not crazy.

There it was, clear as day, etched in stark, conspicuous ink on his brother's arm—the sigil of the twin Fovers.

Author has something to say!!

Author will disappear for a short while!! her vacay has ended and she has to go back to the tenth circle of hell filled with projects and assignments.

So here's a longer chapter!!! Vote !! comment!! 

Forgive author for this is unedited. 

also, should I add angst to the tag list?

Take care, everyone!!

Author- Kaizer is in love with Einar.

the entire God's Game cast- he is.

Readers- he is.

Monster under author's bed- he is.

The Gods- he is.

Kaizer- I am

Einar and Wolfy- Is he though?