there's no going back
when you cross the line
He isn’t a fan of the island, not in the least. It is too perfect, too vibrant, too much of everything, and he often feels overwhelmed and vaguely like crawling out of his skin every time he steps foot on the picturesque beaches. Yet, he still keeps coming back, pulled back by forces he can’t quite name and doesn’t understand, making the trip across the obsidian bridge and stepping down upon the powdery sand.when you cross the line
Usually, he finds himself alone, the other residents of Novus having delved deeper into the island to uncover its mysteries. Today, however, his eyes are caught by a figure on the beach, and his breath abruptly catches in his chest.
He thinks of his father’s letter, the little bag of coins he and Hex had found on the tavern stoop. You boys have an older sister, Hex had read out loud, her name is Iscariot. At the time, he had been jealous of her name, of how it tasted like power and like wanting in his mouth, of how the syllables had come so easily to his twin’s lips. She is cloaked in shadows, marked with the earth, and her horns reach to the sky. She is wild, like her mother, and you will know her when you see her; I have made it so. The boys had argued for days about whether or not their sister resembled them, resembled their unknown father, and in the end neither had been able to reach a conclusion that pleased both of them.
In the end, he had almost forgotten he had a sibling besides Hex, that he had a family at all.
He recognizes her, some primal part of her, and perhaps their shared blood is singing in their veins, because he can’t help but move closer until they’re nearly touching, only a foot or two between them. “Iscariot, yes?” He names her, and his voice burrs a little against the word when he realizes how close in shade their eyes are, both of them amber and glowing beneath the sun, at the twinge of childish jealousy that still rises in his chest when he remembers how silken Hex had made her name sound.
He is, somehow, not entirely surprised that they have met here, on this strange island.
He still doesn’t trust it.
“My name is Valefor. And, I believe,” His mouth turns up in a shy smile, the very tips of sharp teeth poking out from behind his lips, and his tail sweeps across the sand behind him. “I believe that we might share the same absentee father, if the letter he sent me was any indication.” He wonders, briefly, if she had received the same sort of letter, and even more briefly what sort of magic his father had included that made recognizing her so easy.
@Iscariot
