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“Their tongue is a piercing arrow, it hath spoken deceit: with his mouth one speaketh peace with his friend, and secretly he lieth in wait for him.” –Jeremiah 6:8
Dark rain clouds hung over the skies of Londinium in mute testament to the devastation below them. In an inn outside the city limits, Abel stared unseeingly out the window at the smoke from the conflict days ago that still hung in the air.
Cain.
Their fight had been a stalemate at best. Both of them at 100% activation clashed over the belaboured city without resolution, only to have Cain vanish into the black night.
Abel’s fist curled against the cool glass and he touched his forehead to the pane, letting out a heavy sigh.So he had called himself Contra Mundi? Abel quietly clucked his tongue at his brother’s hubris but his mind rewound to a time long past; to the sibling that had told him he loved him. The one that had been the joy to his misery.
Cain had been different then. Halcyon, gentle and somewhat naïve to the true nature of the Terran. He couldn’t understand why Abel hated them so and aligned with the same pacifist ideals Lilith had. It was only when Abel had seen the truth that he himself had altered his perception of a great many things and set about putting things right. It was then he began to hate himself for what he’d done.
Cain.
The additional nanomachines had made him insane and robbed him of reason. In Seth’s haste to save him, they had been the only course of action and in Cain’s ensuing madness, Lilith had met her end. Cain’s singular purpose, it was now clear, was to destroy what both Terran and Methuselah had been trying to rebuild for centuries. Though their peace was tenuous, each race maintained that delicate thread between them– until he came; playing both sides against the middle with his nefarious Rozenkreuz Orden.
“He was reduced to ash,” Abel whispered at the memories that flickered and his eyes opened as the rain finally came, pelting soft against the window. The intelligence both the Vatican and the Empire were able to obtain was nominal. Neither one knew if any of the Orden were still alive and though Abel had seen Dietrich killed, it was unclear if he indeed was or if it had been another of the devil’s machinations. Cain’s second in command had been reported shot down over the city but Abel had taken that information with a grain of salt. Theirs was an organisation of subterfuge and thaumaturgy that had torn the world apart at the seams. It would be foolish to assume they would be silenced so easily.
The Earl of Memphis had pledged his assistance in pursuing Cain, the young Methuselah’s determination had shone forth in his piercing gaze as he vowed to see an end to Contra Mundi. Abel appreciated the help but he knew when it came down to it, he would be the one to kill his brother and Cain would likely have it no other way. He hoped when all was said and done that he wouldn’t have to bury another friend, the thought of Ion– housed down the corridor– painting a brief but sad smile on his face.
Abel slipped off his glasses and set them on the bedside table then prepared for a sleep he knew wouldn’t come. He spared the small bed a glance but sat down in a chair that faced the window, his back to the dimly lit room. Gentle waves of water cascaded down the glass, blurring the view of the city lights and Abel crossed his ankles then propped his booted feet on the wide sill. He folded hands in his lap and mouthed a silent prayer for the ones who lost their lives. “Is this what you intended, Lord?” he sighed and fingered the rosary that snaked down his chest. He lifted the crucifix and gazed down at the impassioned visage of the figure on the cross, the silver spines behind it fanning out like a halo. “Have we fallen so far?” Abel let the crucifix drop from his hand.
“ ‘And when we were all fallen to the earth, I heard a voice speaking unto me, and saying in the Hebrew tongue, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me? It is hard for thee to kick against the pricks.’ “
Abel’s eyes flew open and a soft hand caressed along his jaw and his hands clamped on the chair arms. His muscles tensed, preparing to confront the silky voice that tore through his brain. Ice blue eyes narrowed as the fingers of that hand trailled through the hair above his ear and Abel pivoted in the seat to meet an identical gaze.
Cain smiled softly at the glare his sibling shot at him and removed his hand as Abel got to his feet. “You show yourself, brother,” he hissed and Cain moved the simple, white coat he wore to take a seat on the bed.
“I do. We had so little time to speak, Abel,” Cain replied, his countenance calm and unmoved by his twin’s ill humour. “You were always such a hothead.” Abel’s brow furrowed.
“Are you so anxious to die?” he bit back. “That you would seek me out?” The priest’s blood was on fire and his mind shifted, prepared to activate the nanomachines that coursed through his veins. Cain raised his palm to silence him.
“Oh, Abel. Aren’t priests supposed to listen?” he asked then patted a space next to him on the bed. “Come. Hear me, brother,” Cain soothed. Abel eyed him cautiously and– after a few moments– sat, his eyes again trained on the window. Cain cocked his head as he looked askance at Abel. “You misunderstand my intent in this place,” he began, his gaze also rolling over to the window as he spoke. “You remember how things were; before the great conflict. The races clashed with one another– all the death you so fiercely craved was visited on the masses.”
Abel turned to look at his sibling, his brows loosening. “How you despised them, Abel. How you wished their God would cleanse the earth of them,” Cain continued and he reached to hold Abel’s chin. “And yet you now count yourself among them. A fallen God that seeks to atone for sins imagined– for contrived iniquities.”
“I was wrong,” Abel sharply replied and jerked his chin out of Cain’s hold. “Lilith never wanted this. You never wanted this.” He snorted and a platinum brow arched. “God, indeed,” Abel added and shook his head. Golden lashes blinked over Cain’s cerulean gaze and his lips parted.
“Do you not wish with all your heart to give the world back its true self?” Cain quietly sighed and laid his hand on Abel’s arm. “Once upon a time, you and I were allied– we were one. That woman poisoned you against me.” His eyes narrowed. “And compelled you to kill your own brother.” Abel moved his arm away from Cain’s hand, his eyes dropping for a solitary moment before meeting their like in his elder’s visage.
“I–“
“Which is why she had to die, Abel,” Cain explained, loosing a sigh. “For this faerietale, my dear brother, there can be no happily ever after for those who have sought to destroy our kind.” Cain paused then continued. “Or turn us from our nature.”
“And what precisely is our kind? Our nature?” Abel countered and got to his feet, his fists clenched at his sides. “Do we perpetuate this madness?” He gestured to the window and the darkening wreckage that blurred with Albion’s rain. “What is this world’s true self, Cain? Humans that constantly warred with one another until the ones with sense got away; is that how you would tell this tale? The proud colonialists that altered themselves to gain advantage over the ones left behind or the sad wretches that rode out Armageddon who rebelled against their oppressors?”
“Sit down, Abel,” Cain quietly urged, his even manner belying the heat of his blood.
“Who are the true inheritors of the earth? The meek or the audacious?”
“Sit down!” Cain repeated, his eyes flashing a hint of red that did not fade until the younger man resumed his seat. A warm smile bloomed on Cain’s lips and he took up the long tail of hair that sat over Abel’s left shoulder. He let the strands play through his fingertips. “We are the inheritors of the earth, brother. In what ever part, or indeed all of it we wish to claim.” Cain curled the thick tail of hair around his index finger then let it fall from his hand. “Recall your true nobility, Abel. The sins of the Terran were not meant to be borne on your back.”
Abel watched Cain’s hand drop away from his hair and he looked at his twin with a measure of both sadness and rancor. “I carry them for the both of us, Cain,” he murmured. He sharply inhaled as Cain’s palm crossed his cheek, the slap echoing in the room.
“I have no sin that needs atonement! But you carry my blood in your veins, as I carry yours. I can feel the sorrow that has consumed and driven you to a life of solitude.” Cain’s fingers soothed over Abel’s reddened skin. “A life no prince should live, my brother,” he added and Abel’s brows softly furrowed.
“Cain,” Abel pleaded and captured his wrist. Cain let his hand slide down into Abel’s as he held his eyes.
“What kind of a world do you wish for, Abel?” he asked, parroting the question he’d posed to his sibling long ago. Abel’s face froze as the past seized his brain once more. Flashes of the airship where they spent their childhood played behind his eyes. He’d been so angry then and when Cain had posed the question, he didn’t have an answer– even now. Cain’s hand remained within Abel’s and his voice sunk into a whisper. “No matter who emerges victorious, you will be alone.”
Abel looked away from the other. Cain was right. His solitude had been another component of his penance, another tool to use, and he hated his brother even more for voicing the truth. He glanced up at Cain again. “I’m fine,” he murmured evenly and Cain’s gaze shadowed.
“Are you?” His thumb stroked the side of Abel’s in the loose hold and brought their twined hands closer to him. “You’ve suffered all these years and with what tender do you purchase your martyrdom? Pain,” Cain stated and met Abel’s eyes. “Remember how we loved one another?” he breathed against the side of his sibling’s thumb.
“Please don’t,” Abel whispered but did nothing to remove himself from him. His mind warred with the memories once more and his lips thinned as the ache in his heart metastisised through him. They had loved each other, even more than brothers should. Times were simpler then and Cain had been the only one he’d opened his heart to. They had been on the same side, two halves of a whole– fighting for what they believed was right, until Lilith…No! He would not be blamed for that as well! She was right! “She was right,” he echoed his thoughts and his hand tightened in the grip. Cain’s lips departed to work themselves into a faint smile.
“Was she, brother? Was she?” he quietly countered and again, his thumb glided along Abel’s. A sigh left Cain’s lips and his fingers shifted slightly in their woven embrase. “And what was her legacy? A bitter harvest of remorse,” he opined and brought their twined hands to his lips. “Give in to me and I’ll take away your pain.” Cain softly pressed a kiss to the knuckle of Abel’s thumb.
“I can’t. Don’t you understand?” he sighed, his fingers trying to separate themselves from Cain’s.
“No, I do not,” Cain insisted, his breath veiling their hands.
“You pretend all is well while around us this world is fast on its way to hell. Good people have died because of you and I cannot let that lie. You are my brother but I–“ Cain cocked his head and offered a dark smile which faded as quick as it came.
“And you pretend you haven’t done the same, in the name of this God you serve,” he returned and Abel pulled his hand away with a frown.
“No!” Abel shot back. He had vowed to not take life, to not resort to killing. But there were times… A series of emotions passed over his face– shone in his eyes– and Cain quietly observed each of them with a modicum of interest. His fingertips traced over Abel’s set jaw and he scooted closer to him; the troubled countenance telling him all he needed to know.
“We know the truth don’t we, Abel,” he murmured and brushed the hair away from his twin’s cheek. “Come. Let us pretend, you and I.” Cain’s breath hooded Abel’s eyes as he neared to place a delicate kiss to the corner of his mouth. Abel stiffened at the warmth of his sibling’s lips, his proximity, and the only pretending he was engaged in was that he didn’t remember how his brother tasted. Another kiss was feathered along the other corner and Abel’s lips parted with tepid protest that died on his throat as Cain gently sealed their lips.
Cain tested his brother’s lips, his own moving against the passively reluctant set. Abel had always resisted him at first but his diffident manner would give way to what they both knew had been right. They were one. Meant to be so– forever. Cain’s tongue softly followed the seam of Abel’s lips then passed through them and when the muscles touched, Abel’s fingers wove through Cain’s hair to cup the back of his neck.
His guilt surged through him, picking at his bones, masticating his heart and the taste of Cain’s mouth only curled around it; feeding it. Abel’s eyes closed as the kiss deepened and a solitary tear breached silver lashes. “I hate you,” he whispered into his twin’s mouth and Cain’s tongue wiped his words away.
“I love you,” Cain murmured against the blush set of Abel’s lips and resumed the kiss, his fingertips sliding beneath Abel’s chin to glide down his throat.
No one understood. No one ever did and when he felt his brother’s fingers moving over the buttons of his shirt, Abel knew they never would.