Chapter 19

Faysal stood on the side. The sand beneath him had turned to glass shards now. Those same glass shards cut him while the tornado raged on. He was inconsolable. His mother flew above the storm whispering sweet words to her kind child. Markab and their father yelled at each other over the validity of his feelings. Remi kneeled in the middle of the fire storm, crying. Love had always been a tricky thing for Faysal. He'd grew up with the perfect example in front of him. Yet he found it odd and essentially irrational that his parents put themselves ahead of everything else. He'd seen the backlash of a love like that. Being the result of it he'd known what it felt to receive the pain of maintaining a love as such. Love was its own magic. A magic balanced out by hate. The bigger the love, the bigger the hateful forces against it. He'd spent enough time being young to see the joys of love. He saw the happiness love brought. He felt Remi's warm glow when he spoke of her, seen how he sporadically burst into flame when he'd received a letter from her always so careful not to burn it, when he sighed the chimes around him sighed as well, an orange glow lit from his chest whenever he texted her, he'd giggle when he'd find something stupid like a seashell or a perfect pebble because it reminded him of her. Faysal always thought Remi was an idiot when he fell in love. He thought that his brother was too blind to see the side effects of love. He thought Remi didn't feel the suffering of being born out of love. Remi didn't feel the anger directed at them for being love children. Remi didn't feel the amount of hatred placed on them and their family all for love. Seeing the spectacle in front of him brought sadness to his heart. Remi knew the dangers of love. Yet he met them head on. He'd been in love before. Almost jumped into a marriage once. Yet he never reacted the way he did today over his lovers' pain. All the declarations of love in the world didn't compare to the pain his brother felt. His hearts were ripped from him. His joy taken from him. He was a only left with sadness and anger.

Faysal didn't know when he'd reached the middle of the storm. All he knew was that his brother needed him. Remi needed him more than ever before. The sand didn't burn, the glass got nowhere near him. Thick scales burned his arms, tears wet his shirt and their tails intertwined. Faysal held Remi. He held onto his little brother with broken hearts.

**

Arguing. They were still arguing. It was easy to see why. Markab had the fickle fae nature. Always needing to be tied down through deals and oaths. Their father was a loyal djinn. Neither good nor bad. Always happy to help. Remi was exhausted after his tantrum. He'd passed out in his bed. Their mother flitted around him. Making sure he was cool or warm, she could never decide. It was a chaotic household. One he'd like to avoid yet conflict always brought him back.

He sat in the living room drinking tea. His mother sat opposite him keeping an eye on Markab and his father. Faysal figured there would be a day Markab showed his true colours. He never thought it would so soon. He'd always spent too much time trying to fit in with the nobles. Inheriting all of their mother's features made it easy for him to spend most of his time in the Air Court and Djimon's Circle of Foxes. Both groups notorious for scandalous, crafty, shifty acts of service for their leaders. A step ahead of everyone is what the Air Folk pride themselves in. Quick solutions no matter how controversial they are is what the Circle of Foxes pride themselves in. The only reason Markab got in was so that Djimon could have leverage if things don't go his way. Djimon trusted him least. Markab switched sides far too often. Nobody knew where they stood with him. It seemed like today Faysal would have an answer.

Their mother called them both in for tea. Markab sat at one end of the table while his father sat at the opposite. The opposites were polarising. The air between father and Markab was how it should be between djinn and fae. Fragile and graceful on one side and rugged and tough on the other. A black-and-white world view versus grey perspective. It was weird sitting like this as a family. Not because they've never done it before but because normally there's an outlier and a balance. Without Remi the differences are stark and clear. Markab took everything from their mother. Her arctic blue skin, her squinted monolid eyes, her shining silver short wavy hair and her magic. The only thing he had from their father was his tall and large build, and his yellow dragon eyes. Faysal himself took in his father's maroon leather skin, coily black hair, sharpened triangular teeth and his magic. He only took his mother's curse of not lying and a slightly smaller body frame from her.

The family sat on cushions on the floor surrounding a low table. A tray with a teapot, sugar pot and teabag pot sat on the middle of the table. They all drank from small pink flower bowls. Markab and father staring at each other intently. Mother glancing at them both. Faysal added a new teabag and poured more water. He reheated his bowl before taking a sip. An awkward silence descended the room.

"Would anyone like a different type of tea?" his mother's chimed voice called out.

"It's alright dear. Chamomile is fine." his father gave her an assuring smile.

The screen door behind father opened. Remi stood in between the doorway still groggy. A few of his plaits had come undone, a few of his scales were peeling off his neck and his shirt was rumpled up and charred. Faysal shifted to the side and poured tea for Remi. He quietly sat beside him and took a sip.

"Don't be concerned for me." he spoke once he saw how everyone looked at him.

"You made a sand-glass-fire-nado, my boy." Their mother's silver bob turned white.

"For a human." Markab muttered. Their father slammed the bowl on the table, stood up and walked off.

Remi's eyes darted around confused. He must not have heard the arguing in his sleep. "What happened?" Remi asked softly.

"Markab's being an ass." Faysal muttered.

"Aren't I always?" Markab responded.

"Prick."

"Stop it. Both of you." their mother scolded them both.

"Hamad! Come back! Family meeting!" She yelled from the doorway. When she heard father's heavy footsteps returning she returned to her seat.

Their father begrudgingly walked back into the room. He closed the screen door behind him and took his seat.

"We're a having a family meeting today. We're going to talk about everything from the beginning until now. Nothing gets left out." their mother continued.

When no one volunteered to talk, their mother started with Faysal. He was the most neutral in the entire situation. He told them all he knew of the war and the humans constantly getting exposed by magic and the number of magic items and faerie circles that have popped up all over the world. He explained his part in all of this. He was just an archaeologist and chemical scientist. The war wasn't particularly affecting him aside from working twice as hard to hide the magical archaeological finds and quickly removing magical substances from foods and drinks. It moved on to Markab and what he'd found Djimon's court. Djimon was making many changes to laws and rules. He was trying to find a way to minimise the damage and accommodate everyone. Most djinn from the surface world were returning to the kingdom and seeking refuge. Their shelters and homes were overflowing with surface dwelling djinns. The nobles were being affected by the lack of luxury goods being imported into the kingdom which made it a big problem for the monarchy attempting to hold on to its weakening power. Faysal figured it won't be long before the needs of the people outweigh the needs of the nobles. The fae cared not for the war but didn't want their people fighting in it. The number of fae have been dwindling. Less and less fae are opting to have children which reduces the number of fae in Elfhame. A war of this magnitude would decimate their numbers. They'd would rather someone else take the deaths for them while they shift to the side they believe win. Their father and mother gave their side of the story. Djimon and aunt Ria threatened them to talk to Remi. Aunt Ria reacted to her threat first. Djimon was a bit too late. Remi's story was the longest and by far the most complex. So much had gone wrong in the past two months. Humans finding mer, djinns and fae hunting him down, home invasions and the princes of hell themselves came to visit him. He had it rough.

"How do we move about this?"

"Micro manage before macro manage."

"What's in micro manage?" Remi asked.

"The obvious would be the kidnapped family, friends and lovers of those not wanting to participate." their father suggested first.

"Do you know how many people that would be? The time and effort? Would it even be worth it?" Of course Markab would be against the idea of actually helping people.

"Yes it would. They're innocents and mostly human." mother joined in.

"You all just want an excuse to fetch his girlfriend." He twirled the edge of his wavy silver hair.

"What about resources to the kingdoms?"

"Each kingdom has their own storage of enough food to last 10 years." Father spoke up.

"I doubt the war would be ten years." Markab rolled his eyes.

"It's been two and we're in the third year."

"But it's the first year they've included the other kingdoms."

"Another micro manage." Their mother called out.

"Conversations with the various heads of Kingdoms, Queendoms and lands in order to affirm the Court of Ashes standing." Remi brought up a new issue.

Markab perked up in shock. "You're really not joining the fray?"

"No. We won't. If we do then we end up being the most affected considering how the other kingdoms easily stop sending in their troops once another kingdom 'helps out'." Remi pushed his stance.

"The other kingdoms won't stop sending their troops." Markab dismissed the idea. He really can't be this stupid.

" Don't be naive Markab. It wouldn't be the first time they did this nor the last."

"But this war affects us all."

"For the sake of all of us stick to being a doctor. It seems that's all you're good at." Faysal groaned.

"Faysal, take it back." their mother scolded him.

"I can't lie remember." he shrugged.

"Another micro manage." Their father called out.

It was now or never. Faysal couldn't stand not knowing where to lead with Markab. He needed a definitive answer. "Markab's loyalties."

"Faysal!" Their mother yelled at him in shock. Remi gasped beside him. Their father crossed his arms and watched.

"Where do you stand Markab? Us or the kingdoms?" He turned his full attention to his brother.

"You guys of course." Markab sputtered. A fae that can lie. Disgust rolled in his stomach. He hated that Markab could lie yet he couldn't. He was a rare fae sought after for his ability to blend in and his ability to lie. It sickened him.

"You plan on throwing us under the bus for the kingdoms, why?" He leaned towards him. A hand on his shoulder pulled him back.

"I'm being practical. We can't go against two kingdoms. They'll kills us. Besides what's a few sacrifices for our protection." Too casual. He said that too casually. He'd already thought of the outcome and was prepared to fight his own family on it.

"I will not sacrifice the court of Ashes to please some tone deaf nobles. There are innocent lives at stake here." Remi leaned over the table to face Markab.

"You want a war with Djimon and Ria?"

"We're already at war with them!" A slam on the table brought silence to the room.

Water trickled from the fountain on the side of the room. Burnt wood the shape of hands imprinted on the table.

A cough. They all turned to the sound.

"All we need to do is change the outcome. To make sure that those who need to benefit, do benefit." Their father spoke.

"How do we do that?" Faysal spoke.

"Turn the tide into the new prince's favour." He replied. Their mother cast a wary look to their father. It seems they've had this conversation before.

"Do we summon him?" Faysal asked.

"I'll get the black salt and some chalk."