"Nock. Nock, wake up."

I was Earth-age three. A noise alarmed me in my sleep, and when I realized what it was, I sought my older brother.

"Xelan? What is it?" Nox's deep voice was rough with the edge of sleep as he stirred in his bed. After rubbing them, he peered at me through black eyes.

I remembered they were always so shiny and dark, like onyx. In them, I saw my reflection. Small of frame, the braid my mother had made of my hair was longer than I was tall. Tiny hands fidgeted with the sliver of Elden's nacre around my neck. My face and arms were chubby, like Pax's. Meeting my son for the first time took me back to this exact moment.

While I shared this story, Korac propped an elbow on the arm of the chair and rested his jaw in that hand. Sagan scooted to the edge of his lap, eager to listen. Tameka pulled Pax away from an old sword I'd left on display. The rest of the Shadow in the room waited for me to continue.

It's hard for me to remember Nox like this.

"You loved him." Preteen you states the painful truth with a soft confidence I miss from our quiet conversations. "Of course, you loved your older brother. He protected you from so much."

I forgot how much until I read his Verse.

On that night millions of years ago, I looked into my brother's eyes and knew—I knew—even at Earth-age eight, he could help.

"Nock, da yells at ma."

Nox sprung to the edge of his bed and placed both hands on my shoulders. "Tell me. What was she doing?"

I thought it was an odd question even at my tender age, but I answered. "Screaming."

With jerky movements, he picked me up and switched our places—Me in the bed and him, standing at its side. Nox put a finger in my face, saying, "Get under the covers with the blanket over your head. Do not come out until you hear my voice. Understand me, brother mine?"

I didn't understand any of this. "I wanna go wichu."

Nox shook his head. His eyes were so grave as he glanced toward mother's room through the open chamber door. "In the bed, Xelan. I can explain when I return."

What else could I do? I nodded and did as he told me.

On bare feet, Nox padded silently out of the room. When he opened the door to mother's chambers, I heard...

At this point in the telling, Tameka took my hand. Korac looked away from me to stare into the distance, seeing what we both knew was happening.

"How does one forget the sound of muffled screams through a clamped hand?"

For the life of me, Rayne, I wish you'd never had to experience it.

The iteration of you writing at the coffee table shrugs, but little you takes my face in her tiny hands, saying, "Focus, Superman."

Safe under Nox's covers, I heard father shout, "Get the fuck out of here!"

My brother's voice was steady. "I wish to stay. You may go."

"Heathen, I will not tolerate your intrusion on my union." Heathen. Umbra had always referred to his eldest son as 'Heathen.' It never occurred to me to ask why.

In an even tone, Nox asked, "Mother, do you want father to stay?"

Savis didn't hesitate. "No."

"She has no say—"

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

A meaty sound interrupted Umbra's protest, followed by a loud grunt. Something heavy hit stone.

All this took place while I hid under the covers. I flinched, clutching the nacre splinter. I wanted to see, but the recollection of Nox's earnest eyes kept me in bed. To the best of my knowledge, someone was struck and fell.

Then came a dragging sound. Father was cursing and groaning.

From the hallway, Nox said, "I tire of you, old man. Leave her, or I take you apart next time. Starting with your most fond appendage."

A whimper sounded next.

"Good. Go back to Amolot."

I can only assume the next sounds I heard were father standing and shuffling away.

Mother's voice came next. "Thank you, my son." By the noise that reached me, I knew she'd kissed his hair.

Nox said, "Thank Xelan. He alerted me."

She sounded... empty as she said, "You boys should never hear such things."

"True words, mother. Why can we not leave? Uncle Vinco's people will protect us." Let me take this moment to remind you that Nox was only eight.

There was so much reason in mother's response, a deeper purpose. "One day, you will understand your place here. Yours and Xelan's. Until then, we endure."

Nox sounded more skeptical as he questioned, "Like your eye? Who will look after you?"

"Karter and Para will tend to my injuries. You return to your brother."

Defeated, Nox said, "Good night, mother."

"Good night, my son." Louder, mother called down the hall, "Good night, Xelan."

I was too confused to respond. What was wrong with my family? Why was father always hurting mother? And why was she always relying on Nox to save her? This was my earliest memory, but echoes of these exact events played through my recollection. This wasn't the first occasion.

Sagan said, "It was hard for her to leave him. You were royalty."

Korac patted her knee.

"No." I had to disagree. "Thanks to Nox's Verse, I can see things more clearly. These were tests. My mother was testing Nox and I."

Korac frowned, asking, "What do you mean?" He loved mother, thankful for all her maternal care during his time on Cinder before her death. His defensiveness was expected, but...

"She threatened to cut off your fingers if you called her 'Lady Savis.' Mother wasn't exactly warm. I believe you used the word 'severe.'"

With ice in his eyes, Korac looked away.

Silence was staring at me, and only then did I realize how insensitive I was being toward her feelings. "I'm sorry. I—"

"No apology is necessary," Silence said, as Kyle put an arm around her. She stared up at me with steel eyes taken straight from my father's gene pool. "My daughter's life was hard, and she survived in her own way. We often fortify ourselves to withstand strife. Why should Savis be any different?"

Fortified. Yes.

"That's it exactly," I said.

Andrew asked, "What happened next?"

Both of your iterations lean forward. The twelve-year-old figment presses, "What happened with Nox?" Even in this Divine Booth experience, you're asking, as if my answer holds a weight I'm not yet privy to. Still, I give into you as I gave into their expectant faces.

Nox returned to the room, closing the door behind him. "I never meant to leave it open. Xelan, were you listening the entire time?"

I pretended to be asleep while contemplating the dysfunction of my family. I was only three...

Tears squeezed from my shut lids before I could stop them, and Nox approached the bed. It dipped with his weight, substantial even at eight. The bed was pushed against the wall. Nox laid down alongside me on the edge and tucked me between him and the solid stone, leaving his back exposed to the door.

Nox said, "Shh, brother mine. Tomorrow will be better. I promise."

"Nox?"

"Hmm?"

How could I express my gratitude for having a brother willing to face my nightmares for me? One who readily stormed into our mother's room and rescued her from father's abuse? Who returned and shared his bed with me? What could I possibly say to that?

"I love you."

"I love you, too, pup. Now sleep and dream of the stars."

Everyone in my study was looking down at the floor. I wondered what they were thinking about. The tragedy of it all? Two brothers torn asunder by different approaches to the same goal? Or were they pitying our miserable childhood—

"They were loving you for turning out so wonderfully, and now they can appreciate Nox's part in that without your shame or defensiveness."

Little Rayne, it always disturbs me when you speak like this. Now that Pax does it occasionally, you'd think I'd grow used to it.

But yes. You're right. You're so right. Now that I think back on it, their faces were sad, but there were smiles beneath it. Warm, loving ones which make the foundation of all that is Shadow.

I owe them an apology.

Eventually, Tameka squeezed my hand. Her voice was soft, almost gentle, when she asked, "What would you like to share with us next?"

I didn't want to meet their gazes, but it seemed important to look up and face them. That's when I noticed Pax had climbed onto the couch and fell asleep, stretched across Lamassau's and Tumu's legs. They'd covered him with a duvet and let him snuggle in.

These people are my family.

Speaking of...