Arc X.1 | Chapter 36: Interlude | Project Piketown Infiltration 36

“Your Majesty.”

“Your Majesty.”

“Your Majesty.”

“Your Majesty.”

“Your Majesty.”

“Your Majesty.”

A long chorus of calls trailed in Julian’s wake as he swept through the summer palace, where he had been hoping to have a relaxing summer. They’d arrived a little early, the turn of the season—which traditionally did not align so perfectly with the seasons of Baalphoria, but their entwined lives over the last two decades had resulted in a slow shift until their dates more or less aligned—still days off. That was fine. Most of the children were away in Baalphoria or Crishar, but they had been expected home—and Norvel would always be one of the many homes to their coren’taz’s children—sometime within the next week or two.

Some would have taken a little longer to arrive. Lennon and Hayden had already been staying with him—the pair rarely weren’t with him, as he had been their guardian for the majority of their lives.

“You know I will always be your Ju’burat,” he could remember whispering to the children when they were still small and barely able to understand why their parents weren’t there. They understood more now—understood the reality of death and heartbreak and colourism and the complicated nature of everyone’s existence as weapons—but back then, they had just wanted more time with certain adults.

Even now, whenever Baylor or Darrian were around, both of the now-twenty-one-year-olds preferred to be with the men. It was fine. Julian understood that, despite the war and his obligations as emperor having often kept him from the pair, he was the most constant thing in their lives. He was easy to be around, so of course, the pair would choose to spent time with other adults when given the chance. The only exception to that stability was their clones, who had guarded and grown up around the two; yet, there was a difference between a friend, a bodyguard, and a parental figure.

“You know I will always be your Ju’burat, and I will never hold it against you if you choose to spend time with another adult, nor will I mope about if you beg that one of them take you from here. It is your life, and I know both of your parents would prefer you live your lives as you want, regardless of the risk that stepping outside of these walls poses to you,” another version of himself clarified, back when the pair had turned sixteen—while not twins, nor sharing the same birthday, the fact that they had no official date of birth for Hayden meant that his birthday had been celebrated on a randomly chosen, possible correct date. When they were four, Lennon had offered to share her birthday with Hayden.

Earlier that year, Indigo and Atticus had been sparked to Norvel by Malcolm, so they could celebrate their birthday with Emilia, the three siblings having long ago joined their birthdays into one.

“Why… do you not care?” Lennon had asked, awkward and shifting.

Xavier had tried to hide the argument that had happened between his mother and Olivier about Emilia’s reaction to Khline’s death—who had died just over a year before either she or Hayden were born, although the argument that nearly ripped the de la Rue family apart would come later—they had all learned about it by then, and understood that many of the adults in their life were perpetual balls of concern for their children and were constantly trying to control how their lives laid out.

The adults of their coren’taz and Division 30 were either extremely overprotective or entirely willing to allow all of the children in their lives to be as freely as possible. Julian actually thought himself a bit of an outlier, falling into a more reasonable place than either Gabrielle’s control and Emilia’s what will happen will happen approaches. He was a little controlling, at times, sending more bodyguards that was likely needed with the kids and knowing those bodyguards would be sure to notify him or one of the other, more reasonable adults if something happened.

As a result, the children rarely slipped his bodyguards, trusting that those bodyguards would only out them for whatever nonsense they were up to if they deemed it necessary. Joke was on the kids: Julian always knew what they were up to, he just knew when to freak out and when to let them have their fun.

His somewhat relaxed take on parents wasn’t a complete secret to the kids, of course, and they had a long history of making sure no one knew how relaxed he actually was. As a result, while his secretary was currently blasting into both the group relays and xphern chats, demanding to know where the fuck Hayden and his clones had gone, Julian knew where they were. Ironically, the chaos of Hayden vanishing was distracting everyone from the reality that Ivirium, Killion, and Weaver had also effectively vanished. Their vitals were still available, and unlike Hayden and his clones, the trio were responding to messages, but their physical location was now hidden. This wasn’t exactly uncommon, as Ivirium was dating someone far older than himself and all of the other, nosey children were constantly trying to figure out just who this mysterious man was. Hence, it wasn’t rare for the young man to turn off his location data, so no one would spark in on him having sex.

Apparently, it had happened once, but it had been an accident… and may have resulted in a threesome? It was unclear, as no one was fessing up to any threesomes, but the vitals available from around then definitely seemed to imply something had happened.

Regardless, Julian was having his secretary portray him as freaking out while he personally messaged Hayden and Ivirium—and their clones, although they tended to skew quiet when he messaged the kids about whatever they were up to—on another of his xpherns, making sure both boys were okay—they were.

[Iv’ie:I think I’ll wait a bit before going ahead to Piketown.]

[Iv’ie:Elijah Richmond has met me, you know?]

[Ju:Really?]

[Iv’ie:Yeah. Only once, a few years ago, but I don’t think he’ll have forgotten me.]

[Hadd’ie:seriously?]

[Hadd’ie:How did he react?]

[Iv’ie:He didn’t really do anything, honestly?]

[Iv’ie:Just kinda rolled with it. Never mentioned my existence to anyone either, as far as I know.]

[Iv’ie:I mean, he could have forgotten about me, but that would be a bit weird.]

[Hadd’ie:so… won’t you showing up, like…]

[Hadd’ie:create issues?]

[Hadd’ie:i mean, maybe he’ll keep quiet even if you show up]

[Hadd’ie:but given how things are… he could just blurt everything out, too]

[Ju:Maybe that isn’t a bad thing.]

[Hadd’ie:really?]

[Hadd’ie:won’t it be a bit bad]

[Hadd’ie:if everyone learns the truth?]

[Hadd’ie:i mean]

[Hadd’ie:it would make a bunch of us wanting to go live in piketown easier]

[Hadd’ie:but…]

[Hadd’ie:you’d be okay with us, just, like, leaving you?]

[Ju:I will always support all of you, no matter where you go.]

[Ju:With things happening as they are…]

[Ju:Maybe things will end up being messy, and Emmie will be a bit upset, but she will get over it. I know everyone is always so careful with her, and I know she appreciates that, but you are just kids, and it isn’t your job to protect her.]

[Ju:It isn’t your job, and I know Emmie told you that her arms are always open to you. Even if she is a bit upset, this whole situation is of her own doing, and she will never be angry at you for what you do to defend her or get closer to her.]

[Ju:I also know all of you kids. You all want to go and live in some mixture of Emmie’s presence and as siblings and cousins. I think this situation… maybe she’ll send you away with apologies for not being strong enough to be what you need. Something tells me that she won’t.]

It was just a feeling, of course, but it was one that had been there for a long time—this ever-growing ache within his heart that told him his life as one of Lennon and Hayden’s primary guardian was coming to an end. Maybe his heart was wrong. He didn’t think it was—after all, as much as everyone saw this situation with Emilia being unknotted and in a better place, mentally as something sudden, Julian knew better.

There were several of them who had seen Emilia’s rising and falling mental health over the last decade, and in most of their opinions, it had been on a steady incline. There were moments, scattered throughout the last few years, where things had been bad, but Julian knew her—knew this girl that one of his best friends had loved so entirely.

Even the last time things had been bad, Emilia hadn’t curled in on herself and sobbed endlessly; instead, she had vanished to go sit in front of Halen’s grave—not the one within the memorial for everyone who had died at Alliance Ridge, but the one in Crishar, tucked in beside Hyrenie and Khline’s graves. Codeth had eventually shown up to sit with her, the pair of them exchanging stories of how much they had both loved Halen, Emilia breaking down into keening sobs that had left the few people left who could feel out emotions sobbing in return, her emotions reaching across the continent to touch even Porsq.

“Emmie’gusht’s mind and everything that happened within it were already really strong,” Porsq had once admitted, his eyes burned red from crying her pain out into the world. “Before the end of the war… I could feel her mind turning, when her moods and intentions were strong. When Khline was killed, it felt like my entire soul was splitting apart and I was so far away. Since the end of the war, though?” Shaking his head, the young man had muttered about how whatever Emilia had done to end the war had changed how her existence affected the aether, somehow.

For a moment, during that conversation, Porsq’s bright-blues had flicked up to meet Julian’s own green eyes. Even if it hadn’t been such an open secret that he still knew exactly what Emilia had done—as much as someone who didn’t have such a deep understanding of the aether could understand it, anyways—Porsq would have known he knew what she had done. It wasn’t something pretty. It wasn’t something good. Still, it was the only reason they still lived and breathed, and yes, as a result of Emilia’s war-ending actions, her relationship with the aether was different.

This had nothing to do with the point that, each time things were bad for Emilia and she let herself remember Halen… it was still something enough to shatter her, but it wasn’t quite as bad, either when she remembered or when she let her memories be tucked within her yet again.

“I wish I could be what those kids need,” Emilia had said dozens of times over the four decades.

That first decade, she had been a child herself, suddenly responsible for the care and hearts of so many children, damaged and perfect.

That second decade, she had just wanted to be able to save the world and get back to them. Then, after Khline died, all she had wanted was to keep them safe in a world that was unfair—it wasn’t like the war had killed Khline, after all—but also hadn’t wanted to suffocate them with her fear the way so many of the adults had their children.

That third decade had been mostly the same, but also overwritten by the increasing awareness that they were going to lose the war and that Halen’s spectre remained as part of each of the children. Emilia had left her own imprint on the kids—so had all of them—but seeing Halen within their humour and passion and smiles and everything else had killed her.

This last decade had been the worst. There was no war keeping her away, only her broken heart, and Julian knew that it killed her that she and her unending grief were the only thing standing between herself and all of them kids… and maybe a few of their more overprotective adults as well. Part of the reason Julian had crafted a personality of moderate severity for himself was simply so those adults were more inclined to let him supervise the kids while Emilia was around.

That whole argument between Gabrielle and Olivier about how Emilia wasn’t a responsible parent—as though Khline’s death had somehow been her fault, when she’d been nowhere nearby and all of the kids were considered safe at the time—had effectively led the woman to not want Emilia around any of her kids. Julian still wished the woman had attempted to tell Xavier that. If she had dared demand such a separation, her other kids might have gone along with her wishes, always awkwardly being the well-behaved ones, as though they needed to make up for their adoptive brother being a little more obstinate and demanding of his freedom. When Xavier had found out about the argument, things had been bad enough, culminating in Xavier moving out of his childhood home. Had she tried to place restrictions upon him, Xavier would have cut both his mother and anyone who attempts to say she was correct, and that Emilia was a bad influence, out of his life.

That little boy might not call Emilia mother, but their bond was perhaps stronger for that—most of the children’s relationships with her were. There was something about that difference in power dynamic that had made Emilia someone impossibly important to each of the kids. Every one of their relationship was different, but for some of them? For the ones where Emilia was part mother, mostly friend, and always supporter?

They missed her.

They wanted to be with her, and being away from her was akin to being away from part of their soul itself.

Perhaps more importantly, Emilia wanted to be with them and yet was afraid to say yes to more time with them. Julian had been able to see that reality more and more these last few years.

Gone was the fidgeting that had once heralded her vanishing back to Baalphoria; instead, her parting hugs to the children—and even to those adults she saw—had lingered longer and longer, as though she hadn’t wanted to let go. Emilia had never wanted to let go when she was mentally healthy, but her trauma had pushed her to leave again and again.

So, yeah, if that was the measuring stick—how long Emilia stayed with each visit, how long each departure took, how often she returned because her heart was calling her to the small souls she loved more than anything, save perhaps Halen—of how her mental health was doing, Julian knew beyond the smallest shadow of a doubt that it was getting better.

That was good. It was also sad.

While he knew he was only a spark away, the reality that Lennon and Hayden and their clones would be leaving him soon—moving to Baalphoria to burying themself within whatever strange home Emilia and the men she loved and the children who adored all of them made for themselves—broke his heart. He would never stop them. All he wanted was for them to be happy and content.

That didn’t mean the palace wouldn’t be empty without them and their giggles and the constant barrage of chaos they and their friends had brought into his life.

Stopping before one of the numerous altars that littered the hallways of each of his palaces—places to whisper messages and prayers and curses to the dead—Julian turned. Diligently, he pulled an item from the many offerings that lined the shelves of the alcove: a gorestia flower, the colour reminiscent of Halen’s golden eyes. Spinning it in his fingers, he sent a prayer to his friend, long gone but never forgotten by him—forgotten by others, yes, never by him.

“I wish you could have seen them all grow up, my friend. All of the kids… you would have loved them all so much,” he whispered into the fire of the altar, the flames sent flickering by wind coming in from a window which opened to the sea, barely visible through the evening dark. “You were always such a good father and uncle and friend to those kids, and I hope I’ve done as good a job raising Lennon and Hayden and their clones as you would have… or did well enough. I think you would have done it better, but I hope you’re proud of me and those kids. I did my best, and I know that sending them off to Emmie now is also for the best.”

Hesitating, never wanting to bother his friend with the reality of just how broken Emilia had been since his death, Julian added a wish that Halen would watch over her. It was rare he even mentioned Emilia to his old friend’s spirit—it was better to leave the dead with only the best of their legacy, and when it came to Emilia, it was hard enough for Julian to see her so shattered. He couldn’t imagine how haunted his friend’s spirit was. For Halen to have realized only in death that not only had he been wrong all of those times he questioned whether his love was really returned or not, but to know that his death had made her into a shadow of herself? For Halen to be unable to reach out and soothe her when she cried so often for him?

The Emilia whom Halen had loved was there but also not. Gone was her passion and drive, each of her smiles a little strained, her default expression no longer one of contentment but one of pain.

It didn’t matter than she didn’t remember loving Halen: him not being beside her still hurt. Emilia might think herself weak, but Julian thought her impossibly strong for even making it into the person she was today—he, after all, was one of the few people Rexanti had ever trusted with the truth of why Halen’s death had broken her so profoundly, why neither she, nor Olivier, nor the northern child he had yet to meet, would ever fully recover from his friend’s death.

Placing the flower into the flames, Julian watched it burn—watched his messages to his friend scatter into the aether. Probably, he stood there too long, his xphern continuing to bing with messages from Hayden, asking if he was sure it was fine.

Julian was sure. This had been a long time coming—had been something that should have happened the moment the war ended. It had been delayed, first by Olivier’s near death and Emilia’s inability to leave his side, then by Antoine being a fucking asshole.

Fucker had better hope Emilia didn’t tell Olivier about that. The only reason Julian hadn’t was Emilia, soon after arriving on his doorstep after running away and admitting to what that fucker had dared say to her—the blame he had dared put onto her shoulders—had begged him not to. Sometimes, Julian thought he should have not only told Olivier but the triplets as well. There was still time yet, he supposed, and certainly, the way Antoine had been behaving this last decade proved that time away from the war hadn’t made him into a better person; if anything, he seemed to be even more of a shit than ever.

Fucker could be killed by Baylor, for all he cared.

Turning once more, Julian slipped out of the alcove just in time to see the servants he had called for appearing. Good. It was fast, but it would be fine.

It would.

Pieces of his heart were about to leave him, yes, but they were going where they had always been meant to be.