At times, the signals that something isn't right courses through the entire body and mind, a clarion call of "Danger". Other times, it was more of a nagging feeling at the base of the skull. A soft whisper that something was...wrong.

It was that whisper that dragged Lucius from his sleep, blinking in the near darkness as he sat up in bed. A glance showed him Fiona was sleeping, wrapped in the blankets to ward away the chill. grabbing a robe, he left thier chambers, strolling down the quiet halls of Shadowhold. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but he couldn't escape that nagging feeling.

The last plase he checked ws the practice hall. It was a relatively new addition, since the family had been spending more time in RhyDin, and he especially wanted the children to remain sharp in thier training. When trying the door, however, he was surprised to feel resistance. A more forceful shove opened the door enough to allow him entry, and a brow rose, seeing the torn bag on the floor.

A quick look around found Cieara, and the steel-grey gaze narrowed slightly in concern as he moved toward her, grabbing a towel from the table he passed on the way. Kneeling down, he cast a quick eye over her, heightened senses already smelling blood. but, more than that, her whole demeanor was..."Little sweet, what?s wrong?"

On my knees Dim lighted room Thoughts free flow Try to consume myself in this I'm not faithless Just paranoid of getting lost Or that I might lose Ignorance is bliss cherish it Pretty neighbor hoods You learn to much to hold Believe it not And fight the tears With pretty smiles And lies about the times Flyleaf - So I Thought

"That's because demons are beings of emotion. Look at your grandmother, for example." He fought hard to keep his tone soft and neutral. "Yours emotions are being heightened by that blood inside you, Cie. Thats why you're having the mood swings. But I promise you, it will get better, just as it did for Daniel and your mother."

Her head moved slowly in a nod, with a dirty cheek pressed against his chest. "I hope so. Just what happens if I do go off on say. . . You, Mum or Danny, for feeling treated unfairly or something?"

"We will deal with that when the time comes." Reaching for the towel again, he took the edge and began to again clean her hand. "Do you remember how Daniel was when his blood matured?" Her right hand cleaned, he brought it up to give the fingertips a quick kiss, as he had done when she had been younger.

"Moody." She remembered, having actually gone out of her way through much of that to avoid him. "I tried to stay out of his way a lot during that time."

"Aye, and that was because his emotions were running wild." He cocked his head enough to look at her. "In fact, one day he and I ended up in a fight back in Gharnholme's Arena."

"He isn't as bad as he used to be Daddy." There was a note of relieve in her words as she peered up at him, lips still held in a faint downward turn. "I don't know if he would actually fight you."

Lucius chuckled softly, the sound rumbling in his chest as he brought the towel up, brushing at her cheek. "He was glad enough to punch me in the ring, just before you returned from the Trials." Still laughing softly, he peered at his daughter. "He learned control, and how to harness the power. Like now. Have you noticed that you are stronger, perhaps a bit faster?"

A wry smile touched her lips as she continued to gaze up at her father, and then glanced around the ruined practice hall. "Yes. I did notice that. Danny hit you Daddy?" That finally registering and her pale green eyes went wide with sudden shock.

"Aye. He was afraid I would jeopardize you in some way." And indeed, he had been ready to tear into the Shadows to go after her. "As you grow these next few years, you will find yourself a formidable woman, Cieara." He offered her a small smile. "You will be fine. I promise you."

Muttering with a slow shaking of her head, Cieara paused and glanced up at Luc. "I hope so, as the way I feel right now better be worth something good. It's hard to control."

Again he laughed softly, and hugged her close. "Little sweet, I fight against the Beast every day of my life. You, will learn to harness your power, and like your mother, will become one." Loosening the hug just a bit he peered at her. "Have you talked to her about this yet?"

"No. She's so busy." There was an edge of annoyance there as Cieara didn't usually get upset about her mother's activities. "I didn't want to bother her with this, when she's got so many other things going on." Relaxing in her father's arms, she muttered. "There it goes again. I feel like a leather band pulled to tight. Never know when it will snap from the pressure."

These feelings don't have any windows But these feelings are feelings only god knows As the figures fade into the distance You're at home now, need for resistance

Marble exterior so cold But like magic your soul puts things on hold The truth is you've heard it all before Oh these feelings, the sea just brings you more

The Cure - Sink

A sharp little elbow shot backwards towards his stomach as the hard heel of her foot was brought down on the top of his foot and much force behind it. A faint growl slipping from her while attempting to break the hold her father had caught her into.

"Oomph!" The loud grunt came at the impact of elbow into Luc's middle, and the hold indeed loosened as he shuffled his feet hurriedly, trying to keep from having a foot hit yet again.

Spinning the second he loosened and Cieara broke free, slithering out of his grasp only to return with a balled fist swinging towards his head, but missed and she danced nimbly away, swift and carefully in re-evaluation.

There wouldn't be much time for that, as he closed in right behind her. Each swing, each block carefully orchestrated as they slowly circled the mat. Lucius nodded once in appreciation, as she blocked each and every blow, but after a half-moment of the trade-off, he dropped, hands slapping the mat as he swept out a leg toward one knee.

Unprepared for that, the knee folded and she went down with a snarl and fell hard, but a sharper twist had her rolling back up with a scissoring of legs and she charged him, head down and force behind her forward momentum.

Luc had rolled back to his feet as she fell, and again was impressed at the quick recovery. Her charge, though, appeared to be pure instinct, and he waited until the last second, moving to the side and snaking an arm out, arresting her headlong rush by the hold around her neck. "Unfocused rage will lead you into defeat." He growled as he brought her up against him.

A hiss and a leg snaked around one of his and pulled sharply as she again used her weight, throwing it back against him at the very same moment. Trapped as she might be for the moment, Cieara was not done yet, and simply sought to use gravity against her father.

That Lucius's hadn't expected and the sudden movement of his leg took any semblance of balance with it. Releasing her neck, he fell back to the mat hard, losing his breath again as he hit the floor.

Cieara went down with him but sprang to her feet with preternatural agility and spun around with hair flying and breath falling rapidly. Tangled burnished curls tumbling about her flushed features madly as she sought collect her self.

Slowly Lucius came to his feet, eyeing Cieara as he gradually circled left. "Not bad." He said softly, and then stepped swift and sharply, aiming a kick at her shin.

That was a move she had seen before, having had her brother use it on her more then a few times and at the very last moment, Cieara spun, his foot just missing and sent another leg sailing out towards her father's side. A move that showed the dancer within, as the spin was perfect and poised.

Again she caught him off balance, and Lucius had to marvel a second at her speed, faster than many he normally dealt with. That point was rammed home when her foot slammed into his side, sending him staggering into the wall beside the mat.

A shimmer of red in eyes that watched him carefully and with obvious calculation as Cieara started to circumnavigate around her father slowly, hands up in a posture of guard and nimble feet keeping her moving. Fiona had always taught her to never become a stationary target and those lessons were now inherent.

Bit by bit Lucius turned, eyes narrowed slightly, and a new tact used. The strike came from the side, a shadow-tendril whipping out toward her. Lucius knew it would be a second's distraction, and as she batted it aside he came in, jabbing in with an open palm toward her chest.

It was Cie's turn to hit into the wall as he had indeed distracted. To the side a form was taking shape, more humanoid looking then her mother with easily noticed narrowed blood red eyes watching this but it made no move to step in. Cieara pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the impact all the way to her bones and sucked in a painful breath before retaliating, with several ribbon like shadows falling from above towards him. Giving her a moment and she launched towards him, aiming for Lucius's knees with a hurtling of her entire body.

He had started moving toward her, when the tendrils snared his shoulders and arms, pulling him back. Attention turned toward them, a snarl escaping the Chaos Lord, as he was distracted. It was all she needed, and a bellow of surprise and anger came as she took her father right down to the mat again, landing atop him as he was planted chest-first.

Cieara sprang catlike away from him, dropping in a crouch with a demonic growl but did seem to pull it in, with surprising restraint, as the only sign was glowing eyes. Poised for another pounce by the stance she had taken.

Lucius slowly regained his footing, shaking his head as he slowly turned toward her. His own gaze matched the crimson glow in her eyes and he didn't hide the soft hiss as he leisurely started to circle again, looking for an opening.

Cieara darted in lightning quick, the attack swift and unexpected with a flurry of fists, some feinting some trying to connect and all the while she was in motion, following his movements step for step.

What I've done I'll face myself To cross out what I've become Erase myself And let go of what I've done

Put to rest What you thought of me While I clean this slate With the hands Of uncertainty

Linkin Park - What I've Done

Cieara drew back before the deadly, razor sharp talons could actually pierce the skin of her father's neck. Feeling the surging of energy flowing over her with a bit of trepidation. The darkness inside just straining and her tenuous controls and nearly breaking lose. She could feel it deep inside just pushing and clawing to rip free and it was unnerving to say the least.

Breath dragged harsh into her lungs as she regarded her father, watching him rising up and shaking off the sand from the practice room floor and her crimson, flecked emerald eyes widened. She could feel the tension rolling off him in waves and could only flex her fingers while she waited for him to speak or something. Nervous hands returning to the normal pale appearance she was used, rose to brush the tangled mess of burnished curls back from her flushed cheeks.

Cieara was still edgy, but the rage was gone. She had come rather close to doing some serious physical harm to her father. Dangerously close and it sent her to trembling quite suddenly in dismay and apprehension. True she had drawn back, but only at the very last possible second. It had taken all she had to rein it in and she had nearly been to late. That was a sobering realization.

What if her reason hadn't reasserted it's self? It had of course, so there was some ability to pull back. It was a sensation she wasn't sure she cared to explore, but as her gaze met her fathers for a beat of a heart, only for her eyes drop to the floor with a crescent shadow of lashes dark against pale cheeks. "Ah, sorry Daddy. I nae meant to um, well do that."

Now, the summer...

The morning was a cool one, thankfully, the drop in temperature a herald of the storm building out to sea. Already the waves were building, crashing down in a muffled roar along the sandy shore to send a briny spray into the air. While the sun rose in the east, a gleaming beacon, the western horizon faded under the dark roiling clouds.

It suited his mood perfectly.

Daniel stood knee-deep in the surf, slowly shifting his stance as he brought the quarterstaff around his left, deft fingers sending the weapon spinning with a soft whoosh of displaced air. He worked out on the beach most mornings, enjoying the solitude of the beach that backed Shadowhold Manor as well as a swim after his oft-rigorous calisthenics. But this morning, he was trying to bring a peace to mind, and failing miserably.

The edge of the quarterstaff sent a spray of water into the air as it met an incoming wave, the young man bracing himself as it rolled over him, soaking the shorts he wore. He barely noticed, bringing the wooden staff around his back to rest along his outstretched right arm, the motion then stilled for a second as he stood still, focusing inward.

He found anger there, coiled deep in his consciousness. Anger at being stripped of his command, a command he had earned. The Northras would not follow a leader they did not respect, and they followed him into battle more than once. But because he had taken his father to task, he had been reduced to a glorified guard, tasked with helping watch over the Blood holdings in the West End. A position he had not been to in over a week.

Petty, being used like that. Our spot is on the battlefield, earning glory for our name. It was almost like talking to a differing person, the blood within charged and emitting. Instead, we are here, wasting away. Where be the fairness in that"

"We nae be wasting?" Daniel muttered, swinging the staff back around in a twirling motion around his two hands. "And it nae be fair, what he did?" He had slipped into his mother's native dialect, unknowingly in the past weeks.

Nae fair at all. And for protecting paes sethar. Anger welled within him, coiling around that thin alien thread of emotion, and the quarterstaff slapped hard into the water, the shock of the blow sent up his arms and drawing a hissed breath. Give us freedom. We would nae let him enjoy his superiority over us in such a fashion.

"Nae?" He whispered softly, not liking where the soft voice was leading, and repulsed as he found the idea appealing in it's own aspect. Daniel was staggered by another wave, the largest yet rolling into shore, and as a cool breeze washed over his damp chest, bringing goosebumps to the tan flesh, he spun around with a cry of anguish, sending the quarterstaff pinwheeling over the waves, landing several yards away. "Nae!"

"Nae! Pas air eir sai caer!?

The soft touch on chaotic thoughts startled him, and he turned back toward the shore just as another wave rolled in. Already off-balance by the sand shifting under his feet, Daniel nearly went belly-first into the water, only catching himself at the last second and stumbling back up to the beach. The cast-off quarterstaff was forgotten in the surprise of seeing his mother, and he moved to her and gave her a careful hug, mindful of being wet.

"Mathair"ei shaerorer mesori!" Stepping back, he smiled over to her, genuinely happy to see her, after the time apart. "I nae knew you were coming." A part of him remembered, even if he had, chances were he would not have known she was about until she was ready. One of her considerable skills as a shadow-assassin was perfectly at home in the Weave as the normal material. Fiona had one of those secretive smiles of hers as she looked up at him, shaking her head slowly.

"Aye, myl, I wanted to surprise ye, and I see that I have done just that." She slipped a hand into the crook of his arm, first turning then gently yet firmly starting the young man forward, toward the stairs leading up toward the manor. Daniel didn't resist the guidance, curiosity clear on his lean features as he walked with Fiona. The hand slipped away, with Fiona's arm now curling around his as they ascended the stairs.

"What did you want to talk to me about, mathair?" He gave voice to the question as the two passed through the arched gateway into the rich gardens behind Shadow Hold. Fiona looked up at him, one of those smiles that so few outside the family ever saw curling her pale lips as she let Daniel open the sliding door for her.

"Nae right now, Daniel. First ye get the sea salt off, and then we will talk.

*****

One hot shower later, Daniel slipped on his silk robe as he headed toward the family room where his mother was waiting. The walls of the manor shook at a loud rumble of thunder, the storm breaking in force as he had finished cleaning up. Rain pounded the roof and grounds, and beyond the bay windows lightning stabbed from the low-lying clouds, a flickering counterpoint to the glow-orbs lighting the halls and family room.

Stepping down into the sunken room he looked over to his mother, who stood in front of the window observing the fury of nature unleash while sipping her drink. He moved over to stand next to her, watching the mirror of his soul in nature while waiting for her to begin the conversation he had been quietly dreading for some time.

The touch of her fingertips, soft and warm on his cheek, was a comfort to his soul. Daniel's sea-green eyes slowly closed for a moment as he considered what she had said. Her words held experience, and he knew some of her upbringing from hints garnered in talking with Lucius and Rhystil, and even had he not, Fiona was his mother, and she was one of only three he truly trusted and could talk to openly. "Mathair, I?" Words ceased, as he tried to find the right ones. From an early age, he had been taught by both Lucius and Fiona to be self-sufficient in life. You nae never know when ye will be alone, with ye back to the wall and enemies closing in. He had tried, drawing on his sister's self-confidence and inner fire to attempt to control the dark thoughts within. But, as days passed by, the gnawing had grown; an inner battle that he felt was being lost. Finally, he started to speak again, his voice softer as he brought a hand up to clench hers as a drowning man would a rescuer. "I want help, to learn to control that side. Make it a part of me. But I nae know how." "I can feel him, Mathair. It be?almost another being inside me, wanting to get out. And he has." He paused for a second, to draw in a deep breath before continuing. "In the Inn one night, before I nae even knew it, he had control. It was like watching what was happening, but nae able to do anything about it." Not that he had complained that night about the events that occurred at the Red Dragon, but it had been the way they had come about that he didn't like. "I'm afraid he's going to do that some time, and hurt one of my friends"or worse, Kaely." Looking out at the storm beyond the glass, Daniel shook his head slowly, fingers curled around Fiona's as he continued. "Around ye, right now, it be quiet. But when I be alone?" Again his eyes closed as a faint shudder ran through his frame at the remembrances. He knew Fiona would not like what he was about to say, but she had to know. "I dreamed of having it all. Gharnholme"the dutchy"his power"all I need do is get Athair out of the way. There be even thought of going to Uncle Morningstar." Slowly he turned toward Fiona, another intake of breath made, her soft scent washing over him like a cooling balm. "When I was told to remain here"I wanted to do just that." The next words were some of the hardest Daniel had ever spoken in his life. "Mathair, Ai caraer cos"? With that admission, he grew quiet, waiting on Fiona to take in what he had said, and dreaded what she might think of him now.

Her reference to "brighter demeanor" brought a soft chuckle from him, a lightening of the mood that had settled. It reminded him of the time he had been, albeit very temporarily, attracted to one of the young women from a law-abiding guild house. Cieara had been aghast at the news, knowing their parent's reaction to such a relationship. Luckily, perhaps, the woman had been sent away to another realm, sparing an awkward situation.

"We are children of chaos and shadow." Cieara had said that afterward, as she and Daniel had sat on the bluff overlooking the old keep of Gharnholme, watching the lights spring up as sun set behind the peaks of the Dawnsbreak. "Always caught between the dark and the fire." It had been a strange thing then, and he had looked over to his sister curiously, asking her where that nugget of wisdom had come from. With a typical impish grin she had replied "From mathair."

And well he knew about Uncle's predilections, with warnings in the past from both Fiona and their grandmum Lyllianne. One just had to look at their uncle Lorcain to see what service to The Morningstar could do to a person. There was power there, definitely, as even the ghostly echo still within the quiet Dewil was enticing, but the cost. Lorcain had been subsumed, with only the efforts of Fiona, Lyllianne and Rhystil wresting the hellhound from its master. Was the power truly worth losing those he cared about"

"Mathair, I want to be able to use what I am. I know Cie had training in controlling her beast when she worked with Granddad?" he paused, reflecting in the quiet within. Soroth was still, probably due to the presence of the much stronger Fiona, and it allowed him to get his tangled thoughts together. "I hate the loss of control, because I don't truly know what he might do, or who he might hurt as he satisfies himself. But I also know the strength in the blood, and..." A hint of a smile, the briefest glint of ivory there, before he continued. "...I want it."

Fingers tightened around her cool touch, his ocean-hued eyes moving to her emerald-green, the look and demeanor as serious as he had ever been. "I want to be one with what I am, and be at peace. Like you.?