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SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL

[attr="class","locbody"]early november[break][break]

Fierabras had an accident. This is what he had described as, at least, when his sister visited him in the hospital. She was with Maynard instead of Lord Corentin. Fierabras bitterly wondered if his father were too busy to visit him, too concerned with business ventures, and his determination to fly above his station; he discards the angering thought with ease when Inés wrapped her fingers around his hand and told him with furrowed brows:[break][break]

"You're an idiot, Fi-fi."[break][break]

He blinks, surprised. His remaining eye flickers down to their hands. Hers is shaking, it's barely contained fear, and maybe even anger. His gaze trails up her trembling arm, up to her face again, where he sees her actively hold back tears. Inés was always worried about him, which he had continually found funny. She was a young seventeen year old, the younger sibling—he was supposed to be the protective one, wasn't he? But Inés fills that role almost determinedly, even though she knew that if it came down to it, she couldn't do much. She had no magic, after all.[break][break]

Fierabras didn't know what to say except— "I'm sorry, Inés." He doesn't want her to worry about him.[break][break]

The first tear rolled down her cheek despite her best efforts to hold back. When that one falls, the dam breaks. The rain pours—one gets the gist. Fierabras could only watch as his sister sobbed, clinging onto his hand, wiping her tears with the back of the other hand. "Inés," He says, weakly. "Inés, look at me." And so she does, after some struggle. His thumb brushes against her knuckles, and then he pulls her into a tight hug. She returns the hug, just as tight, if not more so, clinging onto his gown.[break][break]

"I'm okay. I promise I'm okay, so don't worry about me."[break][break]

Of course, his promises don't stop her from swearing she'll take care of him. It's not long before she's also swearing she'll get him out of this godforsaken hospital. She misses him at home, and thinks him being there with her would help his recovery. He doesn't doubt that: he misses home, and he misses Inés more. Before she could get further into her promises ( and threats ), she has to leave when visiting hours are over.[break][break]

Fierabras places a kiss on her forehead before she does.[break][break]

And true to her promise, through some means she mischievously does not disclose, he is discharged from the hospital the next day. His three-day stay has been cut short to a measly two, and a coachman is there with a carriage to take him home. Inés is satisfied even as she's questioned in the passenger seat. She only says she's happy to bring him home.[break][break]

Fierabras remembers how the mansion seemingly towered over him when they pulled into the forecourt. Inés helps him out by the arm, and he has to remind her that he isn't fragile. She makes a face at that, but she respects him enough to let him try to get himself out of the cart's door.[break][break]

The wide double doors are nudged open, and they eek outward as brother and sister step into the wide foyer. A rumbling voice greets them moments after they arrive. "Welcome home, Fierabras." His singular eye flickered up to the graying old man stood at the top of the stairs, cane in hand, and looking critical as usual. His eyes are on Fierabras, not-so-subtly looking him up and down—he is masking disappointment.[break][break]

Inés feels him tense beside her, and with a glance of concern, the young girl placates the growing wolf in Fierabras. "Thank you, father." He utters, and casts his gaze down. "I'll be in my room to rest. The carriage ride was long." His father harrumphs at his excuse to scurry from beneath his gaze. "Rest well, Fierabras." His father turns away, likely heading into his study, and Fierabras stares far after he disappeared from the railing. He thinks, what a wretched, unbelievable old hawk. Mother's death had surely changed him, and for the worst. He sometimes wonders if he's being unreasonable. He was barely seventeen when his mother passed away, and Inés was just a baby. His family had the support of James Knox to make the burden of loss a little lighter, but his father spiraled seemingly indefinitely afterward. Fierabras wondered if he would ever see the light.[break][break]

january 3rd[break][break]

Fierabras had been busy since the Aegis Accords were lifted. Martial law, thousands of familiars reported missing, and Cerberus is being depended on to fill in the holes. It's been stressful, but the emergency shutdown was recently lifted as of December 2nd, and some emergency measures have been removed. This allowed Fierabras a little more time, albeit not much, to remain at the estate. Corentin, of course, is nowhere to be seen during the chaos.[break][break]

Inés, meanwhile, has been going back and forth between local charities. She's doing good work, he knows, with her kind and caring nature. She still worries for him, as he tells her he's been sent to patrol borders for daemon activity, among other things. The last thing she told him was that she will be gone for a few days as her charity group moves across Delphi to better help those in unfortunate situations since martial law began.[break][break]

Fierabras eagerly opens the door when he hears a knock, but he is confused when he sees the glint of a badge, and a pair of officers with solemn looks on their faces. His brows furrow in confusion before he speaks, a budding worry already seeding itself in his chest. "Good evening... What can I do for you, officers?" The first one, a pudgy older man, clears his throat. "Are you the master of the house?"[break][break]

"No. I'm Lord Fierabras du Ciel."[break][break]

"A relative, then?" Fierabras' brows furrow deeper. "...What is going on?" Did Inés get in trouble? It'd be like her. Despite her good nature, she often found herself getting into trouble for her misplaced good deeds. But Fierabras couldn't imagine what she could get into at this point in time. He also couldn't imagine what the officer would say next.[break][break]

"There was a small raid on the New Dawn earlier this week. We've identified one of the deceased as one Inés du Ciel. Condolences for your loss."[break][break]

The darkness seeps in, and the world loses all its sense. It doesn't make sense. Inés? His Inés? Heavy is the heart that cares. The color flees from his face—he doesn't hear the officer's hollow notion of compassion. Fierabras turns his head away, his grip upon the doorknob of his home impossibly strong. If he could, he would have crushed the metal in his hand. There is a moment of quiet, and awkward shifting as the officers wait a response. They're uncomfortable in his brewing anguish.[break][break]

When Fierabras turns his eye onto them again, it is several shades darker. "I will let my father know when he returns. Thank you for your condolences, officers." He says. He closes the door too quickly, with too much force, but he either doesn't care nor realize it. It's only when he hears their footsteps trail away that he sways and rests his head against the door. His heart sinks impossibly low.[break][break]

The world was cruel, as he knows.