Be Prepared [ Job | Private ]

The Salto Obitus, or dance of death, is a sacred, ritualistic duel often used as a means for an individual to rise in leadership within the Corvus clan. Yet to utilize it to go as far as to challenge the Aleph for their position was uncommon.

Diana had done much to cultivate a lack of respect in her absence. For years, she had galavanted in foreign lands, abandoning the pride for her own selfish pursuits. When she had returned, her title had been stripped and her position no better than a deserter. The elders would call for the pursuit of her death. Yet to keep her life, she could do no less than to fight for it.

This day had marked that trial upon that very sunrise. A combat that would sever the ties that bound one twin to the other for the birthright their father left them. Their royalty had come with a price that neither of them expected.

The morning sun peeked through the curtains. Entangled in white, sheer linens, her flesh near bare and numb limbs wrapped around her brother. Her heavy eyes struggled to open against the might of its warm glow. Out of her lungs relaxed a sigh that crooned into his neck.

"I don't want to kill you," she murmured. Words such as that were hard spoken. The act would no doubt snuff out a part of them to which neither would recover.

Apollo hummed at those very words and the deep resonation of it filled her with further dread. "Neither do I," he replied with more ease. "So, when I concede my defeat, kill anyone who defies your place." As if it were as simple as sweeping sand.

Diana lifted herself upright and pressed her palms down on the mattress at either side of his shoulders. Messed up silver strands fell between their faces like a curtain. Apollo gazed up at her stoic expression. His hand reached up, tucking one side neatly behind her ear.

"And if no one accepts me?"

The corner of his lips curl into a smirk. "Then, it will just be us. Is that so terrible?"

"No," she said. It was not at all the worst outcome. Diana had lived without her pack for this long. What was an entire lifetime to do? "But it is not optimal."

Apollo rolled his eyes. It was never a question his care for the rest of them. He did what he had to do for a time. Now, it was her turn to shoulder the burden of their father.

"You're the one who left us, left me," he reminded her. The truth of it plunged a blade into her chest. She turned her head but his firm hand took hold of her jaw and forced her gaze upon him. "You had even made a mate out of an outsider. Do not think I can't hear the life that grows inside of you, Diana. The goddess does not guide you down roads you did not choose."

"Stop it."

"It is the truth and you know it."

Even as her blood rose to a simmer and her eyes stung with tears, it was futile to argue.

The door creaks open.

Diana put on a smile as she entered the room. Dread flits about her heart like flies to rot, slowly eating away at her ability to speak. “Mother,” she said, kneeling down to her side. The length of her mother's platinum hair clasped in hand, she combed through it as they began to speak.

A cold hand is placed on her face, her mother's thumb along her cheek. “Ah… Aidoneus. You've been gone for so long... I never thought I would see you again.” Such words were hard to hear even though Diana had played to this tune for so long. Her father had been dead for years. Yet her mother still could not discern from her beloved husband and her daughter.

Diana struggled to keep her smile. "Yes, Rhea, I am here," she hushed. Even to her mother, she must fill the shoes that her father left to her.

Beautiful shades of red returned to her mother's skin. Never did she look healthier than when she lived in this dream. Diana shrunk back, turning her face. "Dearest? What is wrong?" Rhea was smiling. She could hear it in her voice. Something comforting, something not meant for her but the memory of a man long lost.

"Nothing," lied Diana, forcing herself to look at her as she did so. Then, she spoke not as her father, but from her heart: "I did not realize how much I missed you."

Even now when she needed her the most, Rhea could not be there. Not as her mother. Just a husk of what she had been. Her mother takes her hand into her own, placing her soft, cold lips upon her knuckles. Diana frowned, clasping her hand down upon hers. For a little while, she would remain with her mother. If only but to ease her heart from the burdens it carried.