Brand passed his hand through his hair. He needed more time to think. Four years should have been long enough for, well, he didn’t fucking know.
Tanya loved him, well, liked him, or she had a crush. Whatever it was, there's no denying it, not with Bitarr taking his form every day. But Brand had known long before the god’s presence, years ago in fact, back when his future lay in Ram and she had been nothing but a child.
Brand smiled. “It’s been a long time, Tanya.”
The words felt like sand in his throat. They weren't enough, not after the long years, his supposed death, and the tattered remains of her city. She was a queen in her own right and a woman as beautiful as she was fierce. And then she smiled, killing all thought and bringing heat to his face like he was a boy because she wanted him and he loved her, he always had one way or another. But still, words came to him in a muddled mess.
“Um, I, well it's been-”
Tanya pounced, knocking Brand to the ground in a crushing embrace. Before he could say another useless word her mouth was on him, exploring his in desperate passion. Her embrace tightened, becoming almost painful when he kissed her back but his hands still moved cupping her breast and roaming down back and into her trousers.
A lance of fire ran across his back halting him for only a moment. Tanya’s clawing quickly faded as he hardened. The pain, the oath, his half-mad schemes, all seemed so small an excuse to not see her.
Nothing stood in his way now as she ground against him more eager than he’d ever seen a woman. Her tongue was soft but like that of a cat’s. She smelt of blood and flowers urging his need to enter her. But there was still the teleporter, one more enemy to kill and he needed to breathe.
Brand broke away straining to speak. “Can’t breath!”
Tanya let go as if he was on fire, her face crimson and painted with embarrassment. Brand couldn't help but laugh, and soon she was too with tears running down her cheeks. He covered his own eyes as water began pooling but fell unhindered as Tanya kissed him again.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” she said.
“Me too,” Brand replied and was surprised by the truth in his words.
What had he been doing the last few months if not trying to get back to her? She was what was best for Veillia but there hadn't been a reason to see her, not one that wasn't selfish and wouldn’t cause more problems than solutions, so the oath intervened with a burning knife to his brain. But this meeting was unplanned and necessary so the oath remained quiet right up until Brand remembered the danger. Now it stalked the edge of his mind prompting him to act before forcing him.
He sighed cursing his rotten luck. “I need mana.”
Tanya's eyes widened with understanding. “That massive spell from the sky was you.”
“Yeah, and then I had to fight an apex silencer draining what little I had left in my mana pool to not die from the injuries.”
Brand gasped as power flooded into him. Tanya hadn’t hesitated in the least forcing mana into him in such a rush any other would have died. In seconds he was filled several dozen times over dulling his akes and pain while reinforcing his body with Ironsides. The world exploded with detail when his perception returned just as someone entered it, seeming to not even be noticed by Leo trailing close by in a circle.
It was a man, no, a werepanther larger than any in South Bastian. Carr then, Brand realized, but he was missing an arm that slowly oozed blood from hastily set bandages while sword wounds covered his fur.
“I’m guessing you're not Bitarr,” Carr said, sounding far too calm for a man so wounded.
“Carr, what happened!” Tanya said, running up to him.
The werepanther look passed her to Brand. “You're a healer right.” He raised his stump of a hand. “Because we’re in serious need of healing.”
****
Tanya couldn't look away. Brand was right there in front of her, not a falsity made by Bitarr or miles away fighting a god. He was within arm’s reach so she held onto him wrapping her arm around his as to not let him go, not again, not ever.
The smell of familiar blood shook Tanya from her thoughts. Asta’s, Alda’s and so much of Mildrith’s, too much.
“None of your business,” Brand said out of nowhere. His eyes remained forward talking to no one. “Just stay quiet. Fucking hells. I’ll tell you later.”
“Brand?” Tanya said.
“Oh, sorry,” he said. “An avatar is in my head.”
“What?”
“The one with Vara. She’s sealed in a beast and won’t stop asking questions.”
“A woman is in your head,” Tanya said, sounding jealous even to herself.
“I’ll get her out soon. She has her uses.” Brand pointed forward to a tree surrounded by dead werebeast and chuckled. “Is that the fucking prince of the south?”
Indeed, it was Eric soaked in sweat and leaning on a tree branch that seemed steadier than his own feet. His ever-present cloak of nervousness was gone, replaced by abject terror. Any semblance of composure fell away as he backed into Leo and screamed.
The man's leg caught on a root and he fell just before Leo lifted him by his stained robe. A slight pressure escaped him as his focus increased the world's pull, but it was gone in an instant, absorbed by Loe's fortress aura.
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"I didn't know!" the man begged.
Tanya had Leo lower him so their eyes met. "You didn't know half of your noble would try to kill me!" Her hand gripped his throat, claws digging into the man's skin. "Or more like, you turned sides when it was clear you'd fail!"
Brand walked past them both patting Tanya on the head. “Leave him be Kitten. Eric is too much of a cowardly lion to be this stupid. That’s why I let him live during the festival.”
“You, you're the Advisory!” Eric exclaimed.
“Is that what people are calling me? I kind of like it.”
Brand came to a stop just out of sight in the underbrush next to a crater punched into the ground. Tanya gave a final growl and released Eric to follow. Part of this or not, she’d deal with him later. What was more important was the rest of her guard who’d they’d finally found.
With her back resting against the tree was Mildrith, her features pale and breath coming in gasp. Asta was at her side crying while Alda lay motionless. Blood soaked the front of Mildrith’s gown from the wound in her stomach that would have killed her by now if not for Asta laying faintly glowing hands on the injury. The magic sputtered like a dying flame mere minutes away from failing, and as soon as it did, Mildrith would follow soon after.
Brand walked over to Mildrith forcing Asta’s hands away.
“Bitarr, what are you doing?” the beast kin hissed until Brand eyed her.
Brand held the same intensity, the same differences Tanya had seen.
“You're lucky you couldn't heal her,” he said with disapproval. “She would have died in a day or two. A simple cut can be healed this way, but a sword to the gut requires precision.”
Brand removed his shirt revealing a cluster of runes shining green. His eyes brightened with the same color as his palms rested on Mildrith’s stomach.
“You can’t just force the body to heal,” he continued. “Not with shredded organs. The healing has to be deliberate. Are you listening!”
Asta flinched under his gaze. She’d been looking at Brand instead of his work.
“You're him?” she whispered.
“That’s right,” Brand said, blinking the green out of his eyes. He turned to Alda and shoved her in the side with a light kick. “Get up!”
“What the fuck, Bitarr!” Alda groaned.
Brand's smile held something wicked, like a threat and a challenge all in one. “Think again.”
****
Alda brandished her mace at Brand. “This is your fault!”
She wanted to use the spike ball to split his skull but she was weak. A broken collarbone, several broken ribs, and more fractures than she probably felt stole what strength she had. Just standing sent her mind swooning and begging for the ground but the anger boiling in her breast steadied her.
She had to speak. This had to be said now because no one else could see the monster in front of her. Tanya just stayed pressed to his side, a pathetic love-struck fool like always. And Mildrith? Her eyes were blurred with more pain than even Alda, not that she’d take her side. No one ever did, not when it came to murderous Jabari bastard.
Alda stepped forward, her hand itching to swing on Brand. He didn't move, just kept sitting on a felled tree with Tanya, the girl not half the regent she was a day ago.
“Do you have any idea how many you’ve killed! Do you even care?”
Brand shrugged. He hasn't changed in years, still cloaked in arrogance and nonchalance like a man without responsibility. “I don’t care, because everyone I’ve killed needed killing.”
“Thousands-”
“I haven't killed thousands,” Brand said, cutting her off sharply.
Rage boiling over, Alda fell as she tried to lunge. Carr appeared before she hit the ground holding her aloft but not slowing her words. “South Bastion burned because of you!”
“Alda, he saved the city,” Tanya said, defending him like Alda knew she would.
Alda chuckled but it came out as more of a sob. “He didn't save shit! Vara was only summoned because he attacked and these nobles came after us.” Her voice broke not wanting to admit it but he wasn't here and fighting had ended nearly an hour ago. “They killed Garland!”
Brand quirked an eyebrow. “Who is Garland?”
Now everyone looked to Brand with disapproval, all but Mildrith who’d succumb to sleep. A Mercy with her injuries, one Alda welcomed.
“He died when we fell,” Tanya said.
The revelation was like a blow to the chest. He’d been like a brother years before the Hall and from the look on his killer's face, he couldn't even honor him with remembrance.
Alda snarled. Her vision blurred from injury or tears, she couldn't tell. “You just kill thousands and move on like nothing happened.”
Brand rubbed the bridge of his nose and stared hard, eye twitching like there was pain behind them but no remorse. “Vara burned South Bastian. And how could I have known she’d be summoned. She literally has never been summoned. I’d simply run from any other Aesir and they’d chase but that crazy goddess wanted Tanya, so I had to fight.”
“She was summoned to stop you!” Alda bellowed.
“And that’s a fucking shame. Maybe if you removed Tanya’s enemies, I might not be needed.”
“Oh, you claim to be her fucking savior!”
Carr pulled her back. “Just let it go.”
“I won’t,” Alda screamed. If she only had her strength, she’d drive an ax into Brand’s skull, damn the consequence. “Who are you to decide who dies?”
Brand now held his face in a death grip, eyes turning pink and veins popping. “So who should I ask for permission then?” His words came in a snarl laced with an agony that had him trembling. But he rose, anger moving him just as much as Alda herself. “Should I ask you, an unnamed servant or Tanya? She is regent after all, but she’d have to ask her father.” He looked to Eric standing just behind Asta as if to hide behind her skirts. “Or you, the man who used to be a prince.” Eric shook his head, wanting no part in the discussion. “No. So the king then?”
“That's right,” Alda said, but her word felt hollow. “You have no right”
“But the king does because he has the Dreyarks, because he can order anyone dead and no one could stop him.” Brand moved in a blur prompting Alda and Carr both to jerk back in surprise. “Well, the same goes for me! If you blame me, if want to stop me, then fucking try! Send the nobles. Send Dreyarks or the gods for all I care. I’ll win, so I’ll have the fucking right!”
He turned away and cursed, pounding the side of his head with a fist. “I need to leave.”
“What?” Tanya exclaimed. “After all this time-”
“I need to leave now! A vellian army is on the way. I need to prepare.” Tanya tried to hold him but he spasmed, snapping a tree in half with a jerk of his elbow. “I’m wasting time. The psychomancy!”
“I know,” Tanya said. “But what are you planning?”
“Fucking hells Tanya. I need to-” Before he finished Brand sprinted away in a swirling aura of red.
Alda let her legs give out flopping onto the ground. “I’m going to kill him one day.”
Carr chuckled. “I kind of like him.”