Izen had been caught by warriors. He hadn't been evading them, of course. He was guilty. He came without the slightest hint of resistance. But it was a crime he hadn't wanted to commit. Why did he do it? When did his body become something he did not recognize? He would never look at a refection of himself again, he had resolved.

The warriors that escorted him were a combination of angry and confused. Everyone knew Izen. Everyone knew his character, his disposition. Why was he being arrested? He was self-controlled. A leader among them. The head of the elite army of Coheed. Now in chains?

They removed their hands from him at the door of the chieftain's hut and Izen looked up with ashamed eyes into the fury of Rian. His elder brother. The one that didn't look like any of his other brothers, but who was his brother all the same. Izen had stood by him loyally all their lives. Izen barely dared to hope that Rian would not believe it. The way he said brother, however, dashed it. He should believe it. Izen had done it, after all.

If Magda was in the room then he would not look towards her. He dropped his eyes from Rian and could not bring them up again. He came forward, as told, and with each step tremors grew in him, until the large man was quivering.

The shift had been slight, but perceptible. Those who didn’t know the truth would no doubt attribute the change to trauma. The look in Magda’s eyes was unhinged, unsettling, entirely in contrast with the honeyed allure that had served her all these years. Her presentation was the same: Magda’s curls fell softly around her face. Her dress draped over curves as if each fold of the fabric had been laid with intention. But she’d made no effort to hide the marks Izen had left on her. She made no effort to smile or soften her features. Though she was wrapped in all the trappings of beauty, what was inside was rotten to the core.

When Izen entered, Magda—standing at Rian’s side, a step behind his shoulder—did not share his fury. She looked upon the guiltless warrior without remorse or any feeling at all. Her black eyes were reflective and shining as a serpent calculating its strike moment. Yes, she’d requested Kaalim not be present. This was not a matter to be sorted between brothers. This was a crime committed by a tribesman against the chieftain he claimed to serve. Justice would be dispensed accordingly—Magda would make sure of it.

Magda said nothing. Betrayed nothing—and felt nothing.

Rian didn’t know what to think for a moment, watching Izen come into the room. How he barely met his eyes, and how his large body started shaking as he stepped forward. Something deep within Rian twisted at the sight. His little brother. Someone he had always loved, protected when Izen had once been smaller than him, and the brother who shared the name they both had held proudly: Cyrilson.

“Why?” Rian had already heard why from his wife. At least her version. And the bruises, the scabs and marks on her spoke of the way she had been handled. “I want to hear it from you. Why.” He wanted to hear it because maybe it’d make sense to why his brother had betrayed him… the brother who had shown up and had been the first to embrace him after that year in the darkness… the year of torture with the Eldouir’s.

What had gone so wrong?

Why.

Izen's chin started to quiver. He wanted to speak, to say something, but he didn't know what to say. He wanted to deny it, but he knew h did it. He could still see Magda's weak, naked form beneath him. He could remember grabbing her, shaking her, hurting her. He didn't want it to be true, but it was true, and it was torturous. He didn't know her. He didn't like her. He didn't trust her. But he had gone into his brother's room and raped her. Who was he now?

He shook his head, scared eyes slowly raising, once again daring to hope that his brother would be looking upon him with compassion, with understanding; that he trusted who he knew Izen to be over this occurrence. But once again, he saw his brother's ire.

"I don't know." Izen felt shame at the words and let his gaze drop once more. He had never been a sex fiend like some. He had a wife. She had just birthed their second child together. If he'd wanted sex he would have gone to her. He also didn't hurt women.

But he didn't know how to plead his case. He'd done it.

Magda’s black eyes looked on and her expression remained unchanged. There was sick satisfaction in seeing a man of such physical prowess broken to tears. Izen was repulsive. Though logically she knew she’d brought such violence upon herself, her body still screamed ‘run’ when she looked upon her unwitting attacker. But Magda stayed entirely still.

It was for Rian to act now. Magda had made her terms clear. All that remained was to see how the chieftain would respond to them.

A long silence stretched after Izen spoke. Rian’s eyes scanned his brother. Everything he knew about him suddenly felt wrong, but the shaking of his brother… that he knew. Yet was it because Rian was the one facing him instead of a woman?

“You don’t know.” He said it lowly after the pause, his eyes closed as he rubbed at his brows with his thumb and pointer. “You don’t know why my wife was brutalized?” He opened his eyes to stare across at him. “You don’t know why her neck is bruised with hand marks or why blood stains her thighs?” He stood from his chair. His voice gaining volume. “Or you don’t know why you decided to take out your frustrations on my wife instead of facing me like a man?”

Rian’s lip curled, bright eyes blazing. “Father must be rolling in his grave to see his son become such a coward. A woman. Another man’s wife. Your brother.”

Izen's shame was too great to bear. He couldn't look up, couldn't meet Rian's eyes. At the mention of their father he flinched, because he had never been favored by Cyril but he had always strived. He could do nothing, say nothing, but silently agree. Silently accept what his brother would likely do to him. Because...he'd done it.

But there was a small part of him, an irrational part, that spoke up in his mind with such insistence that he did give the smallest of defenses.

"Rian," how many times had he said his brother's name? Around fires. At dinner. In battle. This was Izen. Had Rian truly forgotten who he was? "I would never..." It came out as a whisper. Izen didn't understand. He didn't know why he had done that...but to say the words aloud would bring him further shame.

Magda’s heart beat out of her chest as Rian’s voice rose. She did love Rian—this Rian. The one with the blazing eyes and harnessed fury. This was the man Magda wanted to draw out, and to see him now only further stoked that desire. Izen crumbled before her eyes, and Magda savored the feeling of power. To have a man of strength broken by her own cunning.

“But you did,” Magda said softly, her voice churning with darkness.

Something deep within him crumbled at the sight of his little brother. But Magda’s rebuttal echoed in his head. ‘But you did.’ Rian wanted to break the rest of this house down as suddenly two parts of him pulled apart.

“You say you would never, yet you did. You came into my home, you put your hands on my wife, you hurt what is mine. You took from her; from me.” Rian remembered the blood down her legs, and all his mind kept flashing to was his late wife when she had lost their baby.

He couldn’t stop, he had to know, “would you have done this to Kaalim if he was chieftain still? Or is it because it’s me? Where have I wronged you so bad Izen? Why not challenge me for it if you thought me unfit?”

Izen's heart was already beating quickly, but Rian's questions made it race with a vigor no training had ever put it through. Coheedsmen well knew how to handle themselves with weapons, but with words? With emotions? It was first blood all over again, the fate of his future determined by one false move. He could see the fury in his brother's familiar blue eyes.

He shook his head, a small yet determined motion, brows heavy and sad over his pleading gaze.

"I don't want your position." He said weakly, and the shame of that truth was almost as heavy as the shame of what he'd done. They were men. They should always be reaching for more power, more glory. But the truth of the matter was, Izen was content. He had his people around him and there was little more in this world that he desired. Why as his brother forsaking him? And for a woman?

"I don't want her. Please," he nearly choked on the word, "bring Kaalim. He knows." Perhaps the eldest of them could absolve Izen of this situation.

Magda grinned—a smile filled with unvarnished darkness and the sparkle of madness.

“Kaalim won’t save you,” Magda said with a low purr, as if what she had to say were sweet words to a lover, “Not after what you’ve done.”

And there it was. Rian felt the stone sink in him. ‘Bring Kaalim, he knows.’ Not anything to do with Rian knowing his brother, not one peep about him pointing out that the two were more familiar than him and Magda. Simply, get Kaalim. He’d know. He would protect him.

He wouldn’t see Magda’s grin from where she stood behind him. And with only Izen to see, a sadness washed over him. “Kaalim here or not, whether you wanted to be chieftain or not… it doesn’t erase what you’ve done. How you’ve wronged your brother… your chieftain. Look at her!” His voice boomed through the space as he pointed at Magda. At her bruised neck and body.

He allowed only a moment for Izen to look towards her before he’d continue. “You are not my second.” His jaw tight. “You are a threat to Coheed. And I won’t allow my home to crumble because of you, I won’t sit here with a silent threat continuing in my kingdom. I won’t dishonor you by retaliating against your wives or children. For this punishment is on your shoulders and not theirs. At least you can have comfort in that.”

With a whistle, a few other Coheedsmen entered the room, flanking Izen and behind him as well. “Get Kaalim Cyrilson.” He commanded and one of the two with enhanced speed took off to get the eldest Cyrilson.

Izen jumped when Rian’s voice boomed. The anger. The conviction. Not an ounce of him was for his own brother. He had chosen his bride, and his Nevermerean one, at that. Though Rian didn’t see the smile, Izen did. It tore him up inside.