Lune's visits to the prisoner were erratic and followed no set schedule. Sometimes weeks would pass, as he traveled the worlds below and directed his armies, while other times, he would impose himself upon her daily. Her fear of him never truly subsided and he was more than happy to continually remind her how she depended on him for survival. Threats of withholding food and water were occasionally made, and it wasn't long before she was completely submissive to his every whim.
Sometimes, for his own amusement, he would tease her with promises of her release. “If you're a good girl who obeys her master, maybe I'll take you for a walk outside,” he taunted. “Maybe one day you'll even see your world again, but only if you please me!” Though he had no current plans to follow through with setting her free, he couldn't help but delight in the occasional glimmers of false hope that would further crush her spirit.
He was leaving her cell one day when he heard a commotion coming from the entrance to his palace. When he arrived at the gates, he was surprised to see a familiar form being escorted in by some of his best men. “Alair!” he exclaimed.
There were no embraces, no outward displays of affection, as that was not the nature of the siblings' relationship, but Alair managed a small smile in his direction. “It's good to be back here,” she said softly.
“What happened? How did they get you out?”
She shook her head, her lime-green banded tendrils bouncing around her cheeks. “The Divisians let me go. They were afraid of another attack.”
Lune smirked. “Good, they should be,” he snorted.
She stepped closer to him and stared up into the dark blue eyes that perfectly mirrored her own. “Lune, you have to stop this senseless fighting.”
“Senseless?” he scoffed. “Are you forgetting what Orakio did to us one thousand years ago? Are you forgetting what the vile spawn of his followers did to you just recently?”
“They've realized their mistakes, they know that no good will come of this endless war.”
“Then they are weak.”
Alair turned away from him. “I don't want to argue with you tonight. I am very tired and I am looking forward to sleeping in my own bed.”
He followed after her, not content to end the discussion on her terms. “I hardly think you're in any position to judge, dear sister,” he said snidely. “You were banished here for the same reason I was.”
“And that was a very long time ago,” she pointed out, whirling around to face him again. “I have no desire to fight the Orakians any more. We've wasted far too much of our lives.”
“Then you are as weak as they are. I should have realized that when you allowed yourself to be captured.”
Alair raised an eyebrow at him and was about to respond when a pair of guards standing at the end of a distant hallway caught her eye. “What are they doing down there? No one ever goes into that wing anymore.”
Lune fully met her gaze and refused to waver before his sister. “I've taken a prisoner, she was the sole survivor of our attack on Satera.”
Her eyes widened slightly, but she was able to conceal her surprise for the most part. “Let her go.”
“Absolutely not.”
“The Orakians released me without harming me, keeping her here serves no purpose.”
“Don't be foolish, Alair. Just because the Divisians were cowardly enough to cave in doesn't mean I'll be making the same mistake.”
She shook her head again and pursed her lips into a straight line. “I don't think this is what Laya had in mind.”
“This is exactly what Laya had in mind, for us to triumph over the Orakians once and for all.”
“For a man who is over one thousand years old, you certainly don't seem to have grown very much.” She put a her hand up when she saw Lune open his mouth to answer her. “I am going to bed now. Do not follow me.”
Despite his urge to do otherwise, Lune obeyed her wishes and watched her disappear into he shadows. Though he was glad that his sister was safe, it hadn't exactly been the homecoming he'd expected. Shortly after she'd left him, he retired to his own chambers, hoping to get a good night's rest before continuing to plan his strategies the following day.
He was standing over a table, examining a map of Elysium with one of his generals, when Alair burst in early in the afternoon. “What have you done to that poor girl?” she angrily demanded.
The other man began to move towards the door, but Lune shook his head. “The Orakian does not concern you, Alair,” he simply said before turning his attentions back to the map.
She stormed over to where he was standing and glared at him with her fiery sapphire eyes. “The Orakian has a name,” she snapped. “It's -”
“You spoke to her?” Lune met his sister's raging stare with one of his own, barely able to control the rumbling ire that was building within him yet again.
“Barely! She was cowering in the corner, afraid to even look at me when I came in. I -”
“You had no business going in there,” he cut her off again, “and you will not return.”
She put her hands on her hips defiantly. “This is my home too, you know.”
“If you are no longer going to fight alongside me in the name of Laya, then you will stay out of my dealings with the Orakians. If you are not with us, you are useless to me.”
He didn't give her a chance to respond before stalking out of the room, slamming the door behind him. His boots pounded against the stone floors as he made his way to the far wing of his palace, ignoring the guards as they stepped aside to allow him to unlock and push open the door of the occupied cell. The prisoner was just as Alair had left her, sitting on her cot with her back against the wall and her knees to her chest, trying to make herself as small of a target as possible.
“You will not speak to my sister,” he commanded. She flinched at the deep, authoritative tones of his voice emanating throughout the near-empty chamber, but he thought he saw her nod her head just slightly. “She has no power here, I am in control of this moon. If she dares to enter this cell again, you will not acknowledge her presence. If I find out you chose not to obey me, there will be consequences.”
Sounds of a scuffle outside indicated that Alair had followed him, but the heavy door muffled most of the noise and obscured the details of the ongoing argument. “Do you understand?” he asked the terrified woman. She nodded again. “Answer me!” he bellowed.
She meekly obliged. He exited the cell and paid no attention to the obviously distressed Alair. “She is not allowed here,” he instructed the guards. “No one enters or leaves without my permission.”
“Yes, sir.”
Turning around, he finally acknowledged his furious sister. “Don't do anything stupid,” he suggested to the petite woman who was both outweighed and outnumbered by the muscular guards. “Unlike you, these men are loyal to me.”
She scurried after him as he took off down the hallway. “Just let her go home,” she begged again.
Lune spun around to face her and laughed. “Home? She has no home. We made sure to demolish every trace of that Orakian cesspool.”
“She can go to Landen. The town is far enough away that there probably won't be any retaliation if you just release her, unharmed.”
“Landen will be nothing but a pile of rubble in the future. The Orakians must pay for what they did to us.”
Alair's expression changed; instead of anger, her face now displayed pity and sadness. “That all happened so long ago,” she said softly. “I've gotten past it; I wish you could, too.”
“One thousand years of imprisonment is not something I can easily forgive.”
“Then perhaps it is you who is the weak one, as you cannot relinquish your feelings of hate. I'm sorry you're so miserable and I'm sorry you feel the need to inflict your misery on others.”
For the first time in their entire lives, Lune did not have a quick retort for his sister. With one last reproachful look, Alair calmly walked away, leaving her brother to stare after her in silence.
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