"Is that blasted door open yet?" Izzrah asked impatiently, shifting his position in the dark. He turned to give his hired mage a fiery glare, but it became lost in the swirling mist of the night.

Modi, the mage, grunted, but held his peace. It would do no good to argue with one's employers, he reasoned to himself. Specially if those said employers still carry half of your payment. He resumed his droning chant until the lock opened with a satisfying "click". The massive wooden doors creaked open, revealing the view of a marble-paved hallway. Modi grinned. Yet another mission completed by Modi, the great, he thought. Izzrah gave a baffled look upon seeing his smug face. Modi put on a humble expression. He was just a hired-help, after all.

The two men silently tiptoed inside, taking care not to disturb any of their surroundings. Modi walked with feet as light as a deer's, that is, until he saw the tapestry just a few strides afore him. Although Modi was no rich man's son, he had an irrefutable eye for quality. And the tapestry was certainly a prized catch! Shimmering like a vision, gold threads wove through satin reds and greens to form the picture of a wilting rose. Modi smacked his lips. Why not make an extra profit in this job? He walked forward, as if in a trance.

"Modi, watch out!"

Izzrah's warning came a little too late, for Modi stumbled upon a wooden table covered by a soft white fabric. On top of it lay an array of silverware...silver candelabras...silver incense holders...silver goblets... and ornate pieces with intricate carvings of faiths and Mary. Izzrah watched in horror as the table fell, and like watching something move underwater, the silver ornaments slowly fell to the ground, breaking the silence with an ear-shattering noise.

"You clumsy oaf!" Izzrah cursed, bolting for the nearest exit. In his haste he bumped into someone. Izzrah looked up to see a huge man, definitely of Celtic heritage, with a shock of black hair and eyes flashing with unconcealed anger. Izzrah stepped back in alarm and reached for his sword...

"Izzy!"

Izzrah tensed as he heard the sweet voice. There was something familiar about it... his concentration blurred for a scant moment and he barely had enough time to dodge a blow his opponent wielded. He bared his teeth and assumed his attacking stance. The huge man grinned at the challenge and raised his broad sword.

Isabelle woke up at the sound of clattering silverware. She is having a hard time controlling her blood-lusts, but she is doing quite well, except for an occasional dead cow. Once she held back from the temptation of drinking from a sleeping fellow petitioner, but decided against it. Calisia was kind to her and she will not risk their budding friendship with the pull of her cravings.

Descending down the stairs, she almost froze when she saw a familiar figure...White blonde hair gleaming in the hallway's soft lights, the lithe sinewy form she knew so well..."Izzy!" She shouted, her heart soaring. Isabelle's exuberance immediately turned into horror as a Rosae she only knew of as Padraig melee-attacked her brother. Izzy, perhaps being the lesser sword fighter, barely escaped the blow. Isabelle shrieked and ran down the flight of stairs, almost breaking her neck in the process.

---Izzrah!--- She mind-sent, hoping that her brother's battle-frenzied mind would hear. He apparently did not. Isabelle began to worry, for she had seen Padraig do his sword-exercises once, and he was very, very good. Isabelle reacted by instinct. She threw her small body at Padraig's back and bit his neck. Isabelle's teeth were not uncommonly sharp, but sharp enough to suffice. Padraig let out a bellow of pain and tried to disengage the girl from his back. Isabelle fell in a heap on the floor. Padraig placed his fingers upon his neck and winced as he felt his warm blood oozing from a wound made by Isabelle's savage bite.

"Are you crazy?" He asked incredulously, turning to the fallen girl. Isabelle looked up at him and smiled apologetically.

"My humblest apology, Padraig, but you were attacking my brother."

"Your brother?" Padraig said incredulously turning around to look at Izzrah, who stood with both arms contained by Verikurr and Valorian. He faced the new petitioner once more and stared in horrified amazement as he saw Isabelle lick his crimson blood from her fingers. Isabelle, perhaps sensing Padraig's uneasiness, shrugged.

"Family Tradition."

Padraig shook his head and slowly ambled back his room. Between this trespassing stranger and this strange new petitioner, he was a very tired Rosae. Isabelle watched as the Celtic man walked away, shoulders slumped, as if the confrontation took away a huge span of his energy. Weird, she thought, turning her gray eyes to Izzrah. She smiled and her surroundings blended together until it was just an unrecognizable blur. The only thing clear to her vision was her brother.

Verikurr and Valorian released their grip on Izzrah as Isabelle approached. Their attention then transferred to the thief-mage, who, in all the confusion, managed to get close enough to pilfer the sacred tapestry of the Rosae. They ran, angry that such a man would have the gall to steal the holy sign of Saint Frylia.

Izzrah held out his arms to his sister and Isabelle affectionately succumbed to them. They held to each other a scant minute longer than proper for a brother and sister. It was Izzrah who first pulled away.

"Izzrah, I was----"

"Worried about you...."

They both laughed, realizing they were both thinking the same thing. After a long time of being separated, they were still in synchrony with each other's thoughts. Izzrah grinned affectionately at his sister.

"And here I was worrying my head about you when you're living in better conditions than I have."

"Well you shouldn't have come looking for me, Izzrah."

Izzrah frowned. "How could you say that, Isa?" He began chidingly, "You are all I have left." Isabelle sighed and rested her head upon Izzrah's chest. Izzrah was right. It was just the two of them from the very beginning.

Valorian and Verikurr averted their eyes from the reunion of the two siblings. They sensed that it was something private that they should not be witnessing. They hurriedly left, brutally dragging the mage-thief along behind them, their strides taking them to the Grae's chamber. The Justicar would be very angry at them for interrupting her sleep, but in the whole truth the sight they left behind was making them so uneasy, they just had to leave.

Isabelle curled her toes in the soft green moss that grew in abundance near the river-bank. For the first time in four years, she felt contented. Entwining her fingers with her brother's longer ones, the two of them gazed up at the sprinkling of stars in the crisp dark blue sky.

"Come with me Isabelle. Leave this place. I couldn't stand being far away from you."

Isabelle pried her hand from Izzrah and sighed.

"And what Izzrah? Go back to the life of wandering about with no place to go? I do not want that kind of life anymore. I want to belong somewhere. I am satisfied where I am. They accept who I am."

"But they don't even know what you are!"

Isabelle jerked away as if her brother slapped her. She looked at Izzrah with moist gray eyes, "It does not matter. I'm different now, Izzy."

"Are you?" Then a breath after, "I'm sorry, Isabelle. I didn't mean to say those things."

Isabelle nodded. Yes, she knew her brother did not mean those things. A thought occurred to her. "Izzrah," she began, "do you think we can still speak through our minds?" Izzrah shrugged, "Why not try?"

"Okay."

Isabelle closed her eyes and concentrated on the words that began to form in her mind.

---Izzrah? Do you hear me?---

---Yes, but very faint...as if you're miles away...---

Isabelle fell back, exhausted and confused. Why was the bond between them so thin? A sudden thought occurred to her. Could it be....?

"Izzrah I think we need to share.... we've been apart so long that our mind-link is almost gone..."

Izzrah nodded and tilted his head. Isabelle cut a small wound on his neck then did the same on hers. Kneeling infront of Izzrah, she tilted her head the opposite direction and they drank from each other, feeling their bond strengthen once more.

---Isabelle?---

Izzrah's hesitant voice cut through Isabelle's thoughts like a knife. She quickly stopped what she was doing. Goodness, she almost drained her own brother! She shook with fear, thinking about what would have happen if Izzrah had not stopped her.

"I-I'm sorry....God...I almost k-killed you!"

"It's okay."

Izzrah managed a feeble smile and buried his hands in Isabelle's tresses. Before they knew it, they were kissing each other shamelessly. Isabelle pulled away, flushing.

"What are you doing!?"

"What am I doing---kissing you!"

"Don't be smart with me Izzrah Rose!"

Isabelle turned her back on her brother. Izzrah stood up, hurt and confused.

"I don't get you, Isabelle. First you tease me then you turn away!"

"You said before it won't happen again!"

"Rat's arse, Isabelle! I'm a man, not a saint!"

Isabelle pulled her knees to her chest and curled up like a ball. "But you're my brother." She cried her voice muffled. Izzrah casted a frustrated look at Isabelle's back.

"I'll be at Ogden's if you want to see me." With that final statement, he left.

Isabelle sat there until she could not hear her brother's footsteps anymore. Only then did she release the tears she held back for her brother's sake. Isabelle looked up at the midnight sky and wondered if a past mistake would haunt them for the rest of their lives.