#THEY WERE LEMON DROPS VAX

[aces-and-angels]

*screams incoherently at the sun*

It's Lincoln x MC angst time again...

Spirit, Stay Gentle (part 1/2) Book: It Lives Within Basis: Lia is gone. Connor is out for blood. Vax's worst enemy is his own Power. (or, horror Connor comes after my MC whilst he fights back anchor explosions.) Pairings: Lincoln x male MC, but Lincoln doesn't actually physically appear in this part, but he is brought up a lot throughout. Warnings: murder, assault, violence, swearing, trauma, injury, guns, blood, and because of the flashbacks, there's also gore and death of all ages and species. Part 1 word count: 2.2k A/N: ILITW MC is called Lila in this, Sif is the name of my ILW MC's childhood dog, Vax is the name of my ILW MC, and this part opens with Connor's POV, but shifts POV mid-part.

Part 1 under cut!

Running, running, running, running– 

Pooling scarlet of officer’s head, shuddering, shuddering, shuddering–

down, 

down, 

down, 

down, 

down.

Shuddering, shuddering, shuddering (savagely, savagely, so–) clattering to the floor like it was made full of lead, lead, lead–

One step, two step, three, what is happening, what is happening, what is happening, what is happening, what is happening to me, legs pump, pump, pumping, BANG, BANG, BANG of the bullet, reverberating out through the trees. 

One step, two step, three, what am I doing, what is happening to me, flash of pink, onyx leather, get him, get him, get him, get him– 

Cracked skin, ash hands, wet, copper– blood, where, why, whose– blood– blood - blood - blood!

“VAX!” Voice that is not my own, should not be my own, but it is my own, deafening, banging, booming, “VAX!”, where’s Lila, is she safe, Noah, Dan, who, what, why, what is happening to me, what is happening to me, what is–

Cyan… 

Drowning…

Everything...

Out. 

Ringing, ringing, ringing, then–

Only cyan, only blue, only cyan, forever true.

…….

"Calm the FUCK down!" 

Vax’s cry echoes across the clearing, falling a harried step backwards. The cerulean markings woven amidst his skin flare to life with his heightening anxiety.

"Calm down? CALM DOWN?! Like you can do any better? Like this isn't all you ever do? You're not even a real person, just some vessel for anger, and you're harping to me about keeping my temper in check?!"

"CONNOR!" His voice is guttural, pleading, a warning bark and a plea all in one. 

He scrambles backwards, not in fear for himself, but in increasing acknowledgement of the creeping bonds of Power that wind their way up his sternum, his throat, his neck, the all-too familiar burning feeling sending his heart a-pounding. 

"You.. don’t... want… this." He grits out as he gestures around, tendrils of smoke haloing his nostrils like some scorned angel of reckoning. 

Then he scrabbles further backwards, clutching his scorching hands to his chest, all too aware of the Power it has to bend and break and burn, all too aware of how quickly, how instantly, how easy it would be to smite out the one good man in this woefully empty clearing out in the sadistic solace of the woods. 

Pure cyan engulfs his hands as he raps one in a violent staccato against his head, trying in vain to tame the rising flame.

"I’LL KILL YOU!" It's not a threat, not a promise, not a scare tactic or a want, or a need, it's a plea, hollow and desperate and wavering and screaming and crying, and fraying at the edges please do not let me kill you, please do not let me kill you, I do not know how to control my Power, please do not let me kill you, please do not let me kill you!

For the sake of Connor, for the sake of whatever frayed hold he has on his humanity, desperately clinging onto a violently snapping thread, Vax stops… Freezes.

Purpose, path, salvation, purpose, path, salvation, purpose, path, salvation–

Calming thoughts… Calming thoughts!

Smother the fire, smother the fire, smother the—

Think of Lincoln. Think of Lincoln. Think of Lincoln!

Hard eyes, dark hair, hands that feel like home when he holds you, hard eyes, dark hair, hands that feel like home when he holds you, hard eyes, dark hair, hands that feel like– like– like…

Burning, burning, burning, burning, and by the nine hells why must the Power hurt so much, burning, burning, burning, burning, burning– ladder of flame climbing up, up, up, up, up– 

Up his arms, up his hands, up his neck, up his skin, burning, burning, burning, burning, and no, no, no, no, no, no, no–!

Hard eyes, dark hair, hard eyes, dark hair, hard eyes, dark hair, hard eyes, dark hair, come on, come on, come on, come on–

Think of Lincoln. Think of Lincoln!

Flesh, searing, sizzling, scorching, smouldering– and fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! 

Think of Lincoln. Think of Lincoln. 

…And so Vax did. And it worked. For but a moment... But then Connor barrelled into him, and his markings flared once more, all thoughts of hard eyes, dark hair, hard eyes, dark hair, hard eyes, dark hair– scattered, flittering up, up, up, up, up, up– like the ashes of his Power, the spiralling smoke of the fires that threaten to swallow him whole as he rips out of, and runs free from the horror’s snatching embrace.

But he grits his teeth, and he tries again, and again, and again, purpose, path, salvation, purpose, path, salvation, purpose, path salvation–

No, you're not a monster, Vax, no you're not a monster, no you're not,  you're not, you're not, you’re not– 

Gruff voice, tied hair, raven marks, gruff voice, tied hair, raven marks, gruff voice, tied hair, raven marks–

And Vax’s voice, it comes, finally, growling, growling, growling, growling– gnashing claws and fangs of the horror - Connor, Connor, Connor, Connor – edging closer, closer, closer, closer–

"I'll take the blame, Connor!” He cries, shaking, shaking, shaking, shaking–

“I’ll take the blame – they’ll believe me – I’m not – I’m not – I’m not right – I’ll take the – they’ll believe me!” He hisses, burning, burning, burning, burning–, eyes widening at the expanse of his Power across his flesh, climbing, creeping, crawling, burning in the backs of his atoms, his cells, his neurons, his flesh– 

Vax shakes, and stutters, embers spilling out his nose, his mouth, his eyes, his hands– 

“I'll cure you–  just please stop– I'll cure you– just stop, just fucking stop, just–”

Enraged tears stream down his shaking face, an aquamarine snaking of Power tinging his teardrops electric blue. 

Connor sneers back at him, all fangs and too-long teeth, the man himself, a monster, now, but still… To Vax? The bastion of the pure, the tainted and shattered echo of the man before him a testament only to his own failings, to what Vax could not protect him from, to what Vax failed to do, to protect Connor from, to protect Annie from, to protect Sif from, to protect mom, dad– if they were ever really his to protect - if his name were every really his to bear – if his name were anything other than the very creatures his mother warded him against at night, if the name monster did not sit so pretty and perfect on lips that bloody and stutter and freeze amidst the chilling Power breeze.

"You stole his life, and yet you still don’t know how to act with an ounce of humanity!" The thing wearing Connor’s face jeers, but no, that is Connor now, it is Connor, it is, it is, it is–

"DON’T!” Vax screams, voice piercing through the now whistling winds.

“SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!” Vax half-pleads, half-commands as Connor’s taunts persist, fists balled as he takes yet more steps away, trying to keep a tamper down on the fire, the Power, the flames, the fire, the Power, the flames, the fire, the Power, the–

"Connor, you fucking idiot, I am trying to save your life, just– just–" Vax’s wild gaze drops to his arms, two pillars of hellish blue flame thrashing at both sides, flaming and flaring with his emotions.

The drawn-out shell of Connor jibes back at him, his own glowing and furious eyes swirling like whirlpools in his head. His voice is cruel, callous, careless– gaze calculated and cruel as he casts a wicked glance back at the fading and fated man. 

"Mommy dearest never teach you breathing lessons, or what?" The horror nods to the flare of Vax’s nostrils, the warning glow emanating out from his flesh, the tell-tale signs of an anchor explosion, imminent, no deterrent to the not-Connor before him, just a spectacle, a show, a jibe, a joke, a spot of entertainment on a chilly autumn morn.

"STOP!” Vax growls, pleads, prays, before keening quietly to himself “please, please, please, please…”, his knees slamming harshly against the deck as his anguish swipes them out from underneath him.

Mom. 

Mom…

…….

Onyx hair. Raven lips. Pointed bangs. Fatal edge, soft for him. 

"Stay gentle, Vax..." 

She commands, the butterfly on her hand strutting across ticklish flesh.

Stay gentle. 

Her cool brown eyes turn to him, extending the dainty little creature out to grabbing hands. 

Stay gentle… Stay gentle.

"Buttahfwy!" 

She laughs at the toddlers wide-eyed wonderment, tinkling and beautiful and rare. 

Stay gentle. Stay gentle, stay gentle, stay gentle, STAY GENTLE–

All too soon, the memory of her is pulled out from underneath him, browning and blackening at the edges like all the polaroids of his family he had burned through gritted teeth and falling tears, burning away like the memories of his childhood– his memories? His childhood? Lemon drops, Vax, they were lemon drops, Vax– 

…….

The snarling horror before him cares not for his trip down memory lane, racing towards him in a flurry of fangs and fatalistic fingernails. 

One sharp tug, and Connor’s dragging him, dragging him, dragging him, by the nape of his jacket neck, dragging him, dragging him, dragging him– don’t fight back, don’t fight back, don’t fight back, keep the Power down, keep the Power down, keep the Power do—

Dragging, dragging, dragging, dragging, then screaming, screaming, screaming, screaming – what-have-I-done, what-have-I-done, what- have- I– but when Vax looks up, it is not his Power that alights Connor’s soul, twisting his mouth into a screaming vortex, but the sigils of the cabin, searing into him like so many snakes down skin that knows no solace. 

Skidding back, back, back, burnt hands stinging, stinging, stinging, with the splinters of the sable, Vax backs away, but no sooner than Connor was seized by the sigils pain does he stop… Unfreeze from his pillar of hurt… And chase Vax back to his room, throwing his body against the wood of the wall with a sickening crack.

Copper, and red, streaming down Vax’s head, grappling, grappling, grappling, still, with the Power, tamp it down, down, down, down– don’t hurt him as you hurt Noah, don’t hurt him as you hurt everyone, don’t hurt him as you hurt Lincoln, blackened hiss of Power on paint, don’t hurt him as you hurt Lia, the knife of your nightmares and all the words you did not say– and all the words that you did say– do not hurt him, do not hurt him, do not hurt him, do not hurt him!

Calming thoughts. 

Calming thoughts! 

Think of Lincoln. 

One shadow looms against the gloom.

Think of Lincoln. Infernos for eyes, encroaching ever closer, closer–

Think of Lincoln.

The first kick winds Vax. 

Think of Lincoln.

The second sends him sprawling. 

Think of Lincoln!

The third has him face-down on the floor. 

Think of Lincoln…

Connor’s boot stamps across his back.

Think of Lincoln. 

Claws haul him up, then swipe across his nose, slicing, slicing, slicing– a sizzling scarlet line,  ripping open the same very spot another creature once did, in a memoria of pain, of agony, of anguish…

Think of - think of..?

Onyx hair. Raven lips. Pointed bangs. Fatal edge, dulled under the gnashing claws and jaws of the Power. 

Onyx hair. Ever-smiling lips, click-click-vrrr of dad’s polaroid as it spat out yet another photo.

But his arms, they are gone, but his arms - they are bloody, but his arms, they are swelling wells of scarlet, but his arms– they are no more, just like his chuckle, just like his jokes, just like his breath. No more polaroids. No more pictures. No more him, no more her, no more she, no more you, no more me– 

Snow-white fur, blackened snout– that sniff-sniff-sniffing curiosity, always by his side, forever at his side, tail wagging, wagging, wagging, wagging ready to face anything, anything, anything– until that anything was everything and nothing and then she was gone, gone, gone, gone. 

And then… And then, and then, and then, and then, there was her, there was her, there was her, there was her.

Annie, Annie, Annie–

Onyx hair. Little, smiling, innocent face. The sweet scent of strawberries and icecream, the colour of his hair, sundaes overflowing with syrup and sauces, and digging in as she giggled, and giggled, and giggled, but now, as he lays, sprawled, spread-eagled on the floor, lifesblood spilling out of him, she only gurgled, and gurgled, and gurgled, overflowing with red, red, red, red— and oh gods, oh gods, oh gods, she's fucking dead, dead, dead, dead–!!

Scarlet scratches neon against the black, rip-rip-ripping across his front, his lips, his chest, his nose, burning agony suffusing him as he froze– 

Think… Think… 

Quickly, he finds, he can't think of anything, anything at all. 

Think of… Think of.. 

Lincoln? Lincoln… oh fuck, LINCOLN–!

Bloodied and burnt hands fumble across cracked phone screen. 

Calltone dragging, dragging, dragging–

Beep…

Beep…

Beep...

On the third chime, Connor strikes him straight down, sending him sprawling to the floor.

A gruff voice sounds out across the other line, too late, too late– 

Think of Lincoln. 

A strangled scream. A cacophonous crashing. And then? 

Nothing, nothing at all. 

[multishipperlove]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Vax'ildan (Critical Role), Vex'ahlia (Critical Role), Syldor Vessar, Velora Vessar Additional Tags: Other Vox Machina members mentioned, hints at perc'ahlia, Trans Male Character, Trans Vax'ildan (Critical Role), Transphobia, Syldor Vessar's A+ Parenting, somehow this is really not the fic I wanted to write, and yet here we are, first time Vax meets Velora, Non-Consensual Outing Series: Part 6 of Trans Vax'ildan Summary:

It's the first time the twins see their father again after running away as teenagers, this time with a group of friends and some questionable fame to their name.

Not surprisingly, Vax gets into a fight with his father almost immediately. But on his way outside, to cool down again, he meets someone new.

Scanlan had told them about the offer two days ago. Now that they had somehow managed to make a name for themselves, apparently even high born Lords showed an interest in them. Or at least in the help they could provide.

None of them really knew any details. Scanlan hadn't bothered to remember more than the general gist of it, and all he'd told them was that some ambassador was missing his local contact, and they were supposed to look for the guy. Any further details, they were supposed to find out today, in a personal meeting with their employer.

After arriving at the estate, they were quickly ushered into some kind of waiting room by a servant. It was nice enough, with a big table in the middle and enough seats for all of them, as well as a small arrangement of food and drink that was freely offered. However, it was the name the servant uttered that got the twin's attention.

“Master Vessar will be right with you, he's cur-”

“What did you say?” Vax'ildan interrupted him, surprising not only the servant but also the rest of his party with his sharp tone. Except maybe for Vex'ahlia, who had an equally fiery look in her eyes, and her arms crossed over her chest.

The servant swallowed, seemingly frozen in his spot, and looked between Vax and everyone else in the room before breaking the tense silence that had fallen over them. “Excuse me?”

“Did you say Vessar?” Vax asked. His voice was still hard, but he visibly tried to relax his tone. After all, it wasn't the servant's fault he had to work for this man in particular. “As in, Syldor Vessar? Ambassador from Syngorn?”

“Yes, I was under the impression you were aware of that fact,” the man offered meekly.

The twins shot Scanlan a scathing look before Vex'ahlia answered, a forced friendliness in her voice now. “It seems that we missed some details here, but it won't be an issue. If you could just let him know that Vex'ahlia and Vax'ildan are among the people he wishes to see, that would be lovely.”

The man looked confused but nodded, which already told the twins he couldn't place their names. Not that it surprised them, they hadn't exactly expected their father to boast about them. But no recognition of them at all... it still hurt, in a way.

As soon as he was out the door, Vax turned on their gnome friend. “Of all the things you could forget to tell us, it had to be his name?! You could have at least mentioned that he was the ambassador for Syngorn!”

“How was I supposed to know?” Scanlan shot back in an attempt to defend himself, just as Vex pulled her brother back again.

“Let it go, Vax. There's no changing it now. And taking your anger out on Scanlan seems unwise, at best.”

Vax looked like he was about to argue, but Percy was faster. Or at least louder, as he asked the question that everyone in their party seemed to want an answer to. “Would you two maybe tell us how you know that man? There seems to be a history here that none of us are aware of.”

“Ha. History, sure, let's call it that,” Vax muttered, turning away from the group again. In his opinion, their father's neglect and abuse was far from being a thing of the past, as both of them still had enough scars to show for it. Not physical ones, but they were there nonetheless. And he wasn't keen on sharing that with the rest of the group, any of it. Especially not his little secret, which he had carefully buried in that time, which he'd hoped to leave behind with this new group of friends and their slow rise to fame.

But of course it had to catch up to him at some point.

Vex, seeing that her brother wouldn't talk, sighed softly. “Well, it's a bit complicated. Syldor Vessar is- he's our father.”

“Hm. I gather it was not a very positive relationship then,” Percy replied again, more gentle this time. He was the only one in their group now who didn't look decidedly uncomfortable, so she tried to concentrate on his face instead of looking at anybody else.

“No, it was not. But it's going to be fine, we will treat this job like any other and- and it's going to be fine. It's just a job,” she told them as she buried a hand in Trinket's fur, doing her best to ignore all the feelings that were welling up. They weren't helpful at the moment, and anyway, she was better than that. They both were.

Percy was about to say something again, but before he could utter a word, the door swung open again. Revealing no other than Syldor Vessar himself, and Vex wasn't sure if the look on his face was more surprised or more resembling of someone who had just bitten into a lemon. She certainly hadn't missed that expression.

Immediately, Vax tensed up beside her. Syldor mustered them up and down, as if he was looking at new furniture, or maybe a painting where he couldn't decide whether he liked it or not. And looking back, it was like nothing had changed.

They'd been gone for years, yet Syldor didn't show any sign of change. There wasn't even so much as a new wrinkle on his face, or his clothes for that matter. The man looked as prim and proper as he always had, and as if instead of leaving and managing to create a life on their own, they had just been dropped off on his doorstep again after spending the afternoon running from their teachers. It was almost surreal.

“Ah. So Levos was indeed telling the truth then,” Syldor finally spoke, breaking the silence once more. “It- has been a while. Vex'ahlia, Vale-”

“Vax'ildan,” Vax interrupted again, forcefully, before Syldor had a chance to finish that dreadful name. “It's Vax'ildan.” And really, he hadn't expected much from the man, but surely the tiniest bit of respect wasn't too much to ask for. He could already feel that uncomfortable fire in his gut again, that untamed anger he had carried with him through his childhood and teenage years, which he'd hoped to have left behind so long ago.

Vex moved closer to him, a protective barrier, and even Trinket, who was probably just reading her mood, started to growl. They were not bold enough to threaten the man in his own home, but wanted to make it very clear that he was the one who needed their help. They could leave at any moment.

Syldor raised an eyebrow at that, but nodded curtly. “Vax'ildan. Very well. If that is what you call yourself these days, so be it”

A look around the room into everyone else's confused expression let a cruel smile appear on the man's face, and it was only Vex' sudden grip on his shoulder that stopped Vax from physically attacking his father. “Don't you dare,” he ground out between gritted teeth. “You don't get to talk about that. You don't get to say a fucking word.”

“Vax, please,” Vex whispered, still holding him back with nothing but her presence and a grounding touch. “We're just here for the job, remember?”

“Right. The job,” Syldor remarked, and his entire demeanor shifted. It was almost as if all his unpleasantness was gone as soon as he wasn't focused on the twins anymore, and as he gestured for everyone else to take a seat at the table. “I do have a rather important mission, and apparently I need your help to get it done.”

Vex' shoulders dropped as he turned away from them, and she gently squeezed her brother's shoulder as she focused on him for a moment. “Are you okay?” she asked quietly. “I'm so sorry, we shouldn't have- if Scanlan had just remembered.”

“Well, he didn't,” Vax muttered back. “But it's fine. I'm- fine. Would you mind if I waited outside though? I'm sure you don't need me here at the moment.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, risking another glance at their father. “Do you want someone else to come with you at least?”

“No, I don't want any stupid questions,” he sighed. “I promise, I'm fine. Just let me get some fresh air.”

“You know we don't have to take this job. Right?”

That gave him pause. In a way, she was right. Just because they were better known now didn't mean they had to help everyone, and working with Syldor was the last thing he wanted. But then again- “We're heroes now, aren't we though,” he chuckled, trying to go for humor. “Someone could be in danger. At least listen to what he has to say.”

“Fine,” she sighed, though the worry didn't leave her eyes. “But if it's nothing life threatening, I will tell him to go fuck himself.”

“Oh, I count on that,” he replied amused, already feeling a little bit better. He gave her a brief hug and turned to leave. “But I'll let you be the judge of that. You can find me outside when you're done.”

“Alright. Take Trinket,” she told him, and when he didn't protest the bear got up with a slightly mournful groan and lumbered after him. Vax gave him a gentle scratch behind the ears for his troubles, and started to wander the hallways to find his way out again.

Now that he was by himself, and taking a closer look at his surroundings, he was wondering how they had missed it before. Here and there he could see clear remnants of his childhood, especially some of the paintings that lined the walls were familiar. All important elven figures from history long past, stuff he had stopped trying to care about when he'd realized that any attempt to get his father's love or, gods forbid, affection, was futile. The man simply didn't have any.

Trinket made another sad noise and licked his hand, before gently pressing his head against Vax' hips. “Alright, alright, I'll stop moping. You big baby,” he muttered back, finally taking his eyes off the paintings again. There wasn't any use in reminiscing about it anyway, it wouldn't suddenly make their childhood any more cheerful. Or their father's rejection less painful.

As he rounded another corner, convinced that the exit had to be here somewhere, he suddenly spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. But as he turned his head, looking back the way he came, nothing was there. The chance of running into anyone seriously dangerous in his father's house was low, but his hand still moved to the daggers on his belt as if on reflex.

For a moment, he thought that maybe he'd been imagining something, that being so close to these memories was doing weird things to his head. But then he heard a giggle, and a small face poked around the corner, all wide eyes and toothy smile. Long black hair framed the girl's fine features, only disturbed by her long, pointy ears.

“Velora!” Another voice called down the hallway, and the girl grinned widely and pressed a finger to her lips as she darted closer, quickly hiding behind him and Trinket. Vax could feel her gripping on to his coat, but before he could protest or say anything at all, really, an older woman came hurrying towards him. A maid, if he wasn't mistaken.

She stopped short when she saw him, and he quickly raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Not an intruder, I promise,” he chuckled. “Just looking for the exit. I'm from Vox Machina, Syldor invited us.”

“Oh, of course,” the woman agreed quickly. “Have you seen a little girl run by, by any chance? She keeps running off, and I just-” She sighed, and looked around again as if she expected the girl to materialize somewhere in the hallway.

But Vax, still feeling the tug on his coat and remembering his own joy when he'd managed to escape his minders as a child, shook his head. “No, sorry, I didn't see anyone.”

The woman just nodded and then hurried off again, not bothering with another word. He could still hear her call for “Velora” though, and couldn't help but smile as well as the girl stepped in front of him, looking plenty smug.

He had expected her to be the daughter of the woman looking for her, or maybe of some other servant, but a closer look at her clothes seemed to prove him wrong. The fine purple dress she was wearing looked way too expensive for a servant child. Which would mean- no. There was no way.

Shaking the thought from his mind, he finally addressed her directly. “So you're Velora, huh? That's not nice, running from your caretakers.”

“But they're so boring,” she complained immediately, though most of her attention seemed to be with Trinket at the moment. “Why do you have a bear?”

“Well, he's not my bear, actually,” he told her, reaching out again and petting Trinket's head. “He belongs to my sister, but she lets me have him sometimes.”

“Why?”

He could have told her 'because I was sad', but that felt a bit too personal. So he shrugged and fibbed a little instead as he kneeled down beside her. “Just because she's cool like that. Do you want to pet him? I promise he doesn't bite.”

“Ooooh, can I really?” she asked excitedly, quickly taking a step closer. “Sometimes mommy takes me to the petting zoo they have here, but she only ever allows me to pet the little bunnies because she's afraid that the goats and sheep will bite me.”

“Well, that's because goats are bastards,” he chuckled. “Trinket is really nice though.”

“What's a bastard?”

Vax groaned internally. Right. Talking to a child. He should probably watch his language. “Ah, nothing, nevermind,” he said quickly, before gently nudging the little girl closer to the bear. Trinket gave her a careful sniff and then, to Vax surprise, made a sound of happy recognition and proceeded to lick her face. Luckily it didn't seem to scare her though, she only started to giggled again and wrapped her arms around his thick neck, as far as she could reach at least.

“Huh, I think he likes you,” Vax mumbled, before he carefully pulled her back again, despite her quiet protest. “But maybe we should get you back to where you belong now, okay? Before anyone gets really worried.”

Velora groaned quietly, her face settling into a firm pout. “I don't wanna tho. Laureen doesn't let me do anything fun, and mommy's doing important stuff too so she can't play with me.”

“Hmm. What about your daddy then?” Vax asked, though he really wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer to that. But again he told himself that there was no way he was related to this child. Surely Syldor would have told them if he had married, and especially if they had a half-sister. They had a right to know.

But of course, Velora immediately had to confirm his fear. “Daddy's busy, too. He's always busy though, because he's the ambassor or something, and that's really important.”

Holy fuck. They had a sister.

Vax could feel his hands getting clammy immediately, and had to bite his lips to keep his eyes from tearing up, not sure if what he was currently feeling was happiness, more anger, or all in all just overwhelming.

“So, uh, you're Syldor's kid, huh?” he asked softly.

Velora nodded, and if such a young child could look concerned, that was definitely her expression at the moment. “Why are you crying?” she asked back, just as quietly, and Vax quickly dragged a hand over his face with a wet laugh.

“Nothing, it's- nothing,” he replied quickly. “Hey, did your dad ever tell you anything about older siblings?”

Her eyes went wide again, but she shook her head. “No, why?”

“Because... I think I'm your brother.”