Shwaan flinched. She was right, he had known. Not the specifics, perhaps. But he’d known that Reivaa would never allow Kaheen to escape, for as long as she lived.

And Maya…

He found himself unable to think, to breathe, when he pictured her. Held captive by Reivaa, tortured and killed, watching Kaheen be turned into a monster in her name – all because Shwaan wasn’t strong enough to come back for them, to keep his word.

Safaa had warned him that both earth and Vaan would burn if they tried to take Reivaa’s daughter away from her. No matter how painful, some sacrifices had to be made, for the greater good.

Not for the first time, he wondered if a world that allowed such terrible things to happen, to helpless innocents, was even worth saving.

He wanted to reach out and touch her – reassure himself she really was here, in front of him, alive and whole. But perhaps he forfeited that right centuries ago, when he fled to Vaan with the others and left her behind. Still, he had already failed her once. He couldn’t do it a second time. And if there was even the slightest chance…

“I did,” he confessed, the words barely more than a whisper. “I did know what I was doing, when I left. I didn’t acknowledge it for the longest time, didn’t want to. Told myself I’d been young, helpless, barely more than a child. But so were you, Kaheen. A child.” He sighed. “You didn’t deserve what happened to you. What we did to you. And you probably don’t want to hear this now, but there’s still time. We’re still here. And so is Vaan. Reivaa’s dead, Kaheen. You’re free. You could come home. We could–”

“You think that’s what I want?” she laughed, incredulous. “You think I want your charity, after all these years? Vaan isn’t home, not for me. It hasn’t been since the day Safaa shut the gates behind her and locked us out. I wouldn’t enter Vaan if it was the last place in the universe with sunlight.

“But you’re right. Reivaa’s dead, and for the first time in my life, I am free. I won’t destroy that by shackling myself to Safaa or to any of the traitors who left us. The throne of Vaan can burn to the ground, for all I care.”

She paced the dark, moss-covered cell, talking rapidly. “The only person I trust anymore, the only one who’s never betrayed me, who hates my mother probably more than I do,” she chuckled. “It’s Janak. After Maya, he’s the only person who understood what I’d lived through, what I’d lost. The only one who cared.

“There was a time when I needed you, Shwaan. That time is long gone. I don’t need your charity. The only thing I need from you now, is vengeance.”

He nodded, unable to dredge up the energy to defend himself or justify his decisions. It didn’t matter why he’d made the choices he had, why he’d abandoned her. All that mattered was that he had. And she’d suffered for it, more than he’d ever imagined possible.

If this was the fallout of that decision – made six hundred years ago amidst a war – then it was a small price to pay for having betrayed Kaheen and Maya, who were the closest things to a real family he’d ever had, apart from Safaa.

“Is that why you brought him here?” he asked, voice wavering with nausea, guilt, and exhaustion. “Janak Nath, I mean. I wondered how he came to know about this place. Reivaa’s castle…” He smiled, imagining Reivaa’s reaction if she could see her beloved residence transformed into the haunt of mortal gangs and criminals.

Unlike the IAW headquarters, which as the seat of the erstwhile Aeriel monarchy had some symbolic value, Reivaa’s castle was remote and inaccessible. It had, therefore, been left to rot by subsequent human governments after the end of the Rebellion.

The structure still retained much of the original Aeriel architecture, making it the perfect hideout for the Qawirsin and its Aeriel allies. It made sense that Janak would have wanted access to this place, after the destruction of his base in Kitenga. Doubly so if he knew about the tunnels, which would no doubt serve as the perfect mode of transport for smuggled cargo. And of course, Kaheen would’ve had no reason to refuse him. There was a kind of ironic symmetry to it, after all.

Before she could answer, the doors flew open with a clang. Janak Nath stepped into the cell, followed by a short, wiry man carrying a blocky metal case.

Kaheen’s eyes lit up as soon as they landed on Janak. Wings unfurled, she drifted into his arms. Shwaan looked away, unable to fathom how painful a life he’d abandoned her to, if she could find solace in the arms of a man like Janak Nath.

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Over the next few minutes, the two men conversed with Kaheen in furtive whispers. Shwaan ignored them, uninterested in petty human conspiracies in light of everything he’d just learned. His mind whirled, overwhelming the exhaustion and anguish that racked his body. If anything, the pain was soothing, reassuring – a well-deserved comeuppance for the crimes of his past.

He was yanked back into the present when Janak’s gnarled, stubby fingers dug into his wing. Jerking back, Shwaan bit his lip to keep himself from crying out.

Janak laughed, digging his fingers further into Shwaan’s left wing and tearing off some of the delicate feathers at the edges. “Not a screamer, I see. She wasn’t, either. A lesser Aeriel would be crying its lungs out, by this point. Threatening, begging, anything to make it stop.” As he spoke, Janak twisted his fingers, his sharp nails digging into the delicate flesh at the underside of the wing even as he ripped out handfuls of pearly feathers.

Shwaan’s vision blurred, an involuntary whimper escaping his lips.

“Not as invulnerable as you’d like us to believe, it seems.” Janak stepped away, his tone smug. “You’re more like Reivaa than I could ever have hoped for. She was the same way – always poised, posturing. Wouldn’t react, no matter what you did to her. Until you learned how to push the right buttons, if you know what I mean.”

“You tortured Reivaa?” Shwaan breathed, a strange combination of awe and dread blossoming in his gut.

“Interrogated her.” Janak reached out to caress the crimson feathers at the tip of the brutalized wing. “We aren’t all savages down here, despite what our…former Aeriel overlords might want to believe. The IAW would be very offended if they knew you’d accused them of authorizing torture.”

“My mistake.”

Janak smiled, his touch gentle and exploratory. “Has a sense of humor, to boot. She didn’t have that, Reivaa. Rigid as a cast iron pole. Quite mad, of course. But then, they all are.” He shrugged. “You do seem unusually sane, now I come to think of it.

“No matter, we’ll fix that soon enough. What’s the rush? We’ve all the time in the world, don’t we?” He patted Shwaan’s head, carding his fingers through the tangled strands of silvery hair. “I was heartbroken, at first, when I realized you weren’t her.

“Every single night, for more than a decade, I’ve dreamt about these wings. These little red markings – so simple, yet so unique. So much power lurking behind them, straining to be unleashed.

“I thought I’d lost my chance, you know.” His eyes flashed. “When he told me he’d killed her. That arrogant Hunter of yours. But I have to say, you’re an excellent replacement. Better than the original, even. Definitely prettier.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Gods, I haven’t felt this impatient about an Aeriel in years. I can’t wait to begin. This is going to be wonderful!”

Shwaan blinked. He wondered if he could kill Janak, shut him up once and for all. He probably could. Even drained and nauseated as he was, killing one mortal would not be impossible. Humans were far from the most resilient of creatures.

But if he did kill Janak right now, he’d almost certainly die with him. If the exertion didn’t kill him outright, Janak’s underlings certainly would. There were about fifty men and a dozen Aeriels in the castle at the moment. More were probably lurking in the vicinity, awaiting orders. He was too weak to fight them all off, in his current state. If he attacked now, he'd be sealing his own fate along with Janak’s.

Shwaan sighed, forcing himself to hold still as his captor blabbered on, fingers alternately caressing and digging into his wings. He’d hold out, wait for an opportunity to escape. And if he had to die, he’d take all of Qawirsin down with him. Janak Nath alone was too small of a prize.

The man probably knew that himself, which gave him the courage to stand so close, touch so freely. He knew he wasn’t worth the risk. Shwaan wouldn’t attack him, not without a much more advantageous position from which to do so. Or perhaps he was just insane. After everything he’d said and done, the possibility was hard to discount.

As he spoke, Janak parted the collar of Shwaan’s feather cloak and stroked the flesh beneath, his touch gentle and deliberate.

Shwaan frowned, shifting slightly to push himself further against the wall.

Grinning, Janak signaled to his wiry underling, who stood a few feet away. The man stepped forward, handing over a small, cloth-wrapped object.

Shwaan’s breath hitched, the sudden proximity to reinforced sif making him dizzy.

“Feel it, do you?” Janak unwrapped a small, crude blade, handing the cloth over to his waiting accomplice.

Cooing softly, he brought the blade closer to the exposed flesh between Shwaan’s collarbones and sliced through the skin. Light spilled from the wound, casting the cracking, moss-covered walls into sharp relief.

Something hissed abruptly in the background.

Janak’s smug, grinning face greeted Shwaan as the light died down. Nauseated and in pain, he squirmed, trying to get away.

With a snarl, Janak grabbed his injured wing and pulled him closer. He held up a shard of reinforced sif, close enough to make Shwaan recoil instinctively. Then, he pressed the shard into the wound he’d inflicted, just below Shwaan’s throat.

The hissing in the background intensified.

Soon, a piece of searing hot metal was being pressed onto the wound, making the skin melt together. The stench of scorched flesh permeated the room. Shwaan screamed.

After what felt like hours, the branding iron was removed. “There you go,” Janak said soothingly, stroking Shwaan’s cheek. “That’ll keep you from attempting an untimely escape. Or healing too quickly and spoiling the fun, for that matter.

“Clever little trick, isn’t it? Learned it from some of the best and brightest of the Hunter Corps. After all, they know better than anyone – Aeriels are no fun without a bit of sif under their skin.”

Shwaan collapsed onto the grimy floor and curled in on himself, shivering uncontrollably. The world spun around him, alternating between bright and dark, hot and cold. Pain and exhaustion racked his body until he could feel little else.

Soon, the doors clanged shut. The shadows of the ancient cell enveloped him, silencing the world beyond.