[C] Weary Hearts

Two months it had been since the emotionally numbed lycan woman had last spoken to her brother. She had tried so hard to keep him from her thoughts, to expel him entirely from her troubled life. It wasn't out of spite or hatred toward him, in fact it was quite the opposite; she wanted to let him go so he could be free from the overwhelming amount of issues that consumed her. While Tahir's and his mate Alexis' aid had helped her in ridding the evil conscious that had occupied her mind she still had many internal conflicts to work out.

One of which now required the assistance of her brother. The nervousness she feels consumes her emotionally though she is refraining from letting it surface on her expression. Arzu wonders if Tahir will even look at her again after all she has said and done to him... She wouldn't blame him in the least bit if he didn't.

Her steps are quiet for she doesn't have much weight on her, but she has more than she did when she was starving herself. Now she looks more slender than unhealthy, eating being one of the few things that keeps her awake in her hard work. She isn't wearing any make up, a huge change from her normal appearance so she looks younger, passable for 18 or 19 years of age, and her piercings are still removed from her person. She feels lighter than she has ever felt before on her exterior, but inside her heart is weighing heavily as she approaches the door of her brother's room.

Once there she inhales deeply, nervousness stirring in her stomach, and she raps quietly on the door, looking up to meet Tahir's eyes when he opens it. She re-thinks this however and looks down at her feet. She doesn't deserve to insult him like that after stepping on him as harshly as she had. She is lower than him, a writhing little insect in a puddle of guilt.

Tahir was in his room with Alexis. Their baby was sleeping at the moment, and the two were enjoying each others company by simply sitting and talking.

Alexis spoke of how Aeker was practically a mother now, since Aodh's once estranged biological son had been adopted back into the family. She also told him how the pair had purchased property in Ireland and were considering moving out there.

Inside Tahir thought that may be for the best. He was wary about Jem being raised with an Uncle like Aodh. Alexis made it clear she didn't want any bad blood, so Tahir kept his thoughts to the man to himself.

The light rapping at the door caught Tahir's attention, and since Alexis was still recovering from giving birth, the Persian man quickly got off the bed and made his way over to the door.

When he saw his sister there his eyes widened and he immediately pulled her into a hug.

She could have been dead for all he knew, it had been so long since he heard from her. Two months was a blink of an eye in the time he lived, yet two months without knowing the safety of his sister was agonizingly long.

"Arzu, you're safe." He finally said, standing back and taking her slim shoulders in his hands so he could look at her better. She looked healthier then he had seen in her in a long time.

"I've been so worried about you." He admitted, tucking some of her thick raven hair back behind her ear.

A small gasp releases itself from Arzu's lungs, once full from a deep breath she was holding in as she awaited the sight of her brother. When she feels his large arms around her small frame she feels an overwhelming sense of guilt that makes her eyes well up with burning tears. She has to close her eyes tightly and swallow down the enormous knot in her throat as she weakly wraps her own arms around her brother.

As Tahir holds her slender shoulders, shoulders he could snap in half if he so desired to, she continues to gaze at her feet, her joints stiff from trying to hold in her intense emotions. She doesn't want to cry... She can't cry yet. She still has work to do and that is why she's here.

"I-" the woman must pause to collect herself, her tone is thick with sadness, "I've come to apologize... For what I've said and done to you Tahir... I have been a monster and I deserve to be," she swallows, "To be alone for the rest of my days." Her burning eyes look up to meet his and she rests her delicate fingers on his forearms.

"...But I've come here to beg for your help brother, if you'd take enough pity on me to assist me," she looks down at her feet once again, "I need more magic than just I can conjure."

Her voice, for the first time, is much more fragile sounding that her body, like it could crumble into dust at any second. But she uses all the work she's done for support; she leans on it like a crutch, praying it will help her back on her own two feet... And maybe Tahir can help be that final push.

Tahir listened to everything his sister said before speaking himself. He pulled her into another hug and shook his head back and forth.

"No, if anyone should be apologizing it's me. I've been so worried about losing you I've been pushing you away. I didn't know what to do, so I just made everything worse. Please forgive me sister. I'll do what ever you need for me to help you with your magic. But please, first, come inside. There is someone I want you to meet."

He said, standing back and then opening the door so that Arzu could enter the room.

We're she perceptive enough she'd be able to see the parenting books and baby cradle tucked in a snug corner of the room beside the grand king sized bed.

Arzu holds onto her brother as he speaks these words, shaking her head no. None of his words are true... He hasn't driven her away, she's driven herself away, but she can't tell him all of this, not yet at least. There will be time for that later when she has completed the task that is slowly giving her back her worth.

The lycan woman's brow furrows in confusion when he tries to guide her into the room, and after hundreds of years living in this world, and after replenishing her body partially, she is able to pick up on the subtle hints littering the room. Parenting books, the tiny cradle, that faint sweet smell of a baby's smooth skin.

The hairs on the back of Arzu's neck stand on end, these little things, these little sights and smells are the things she has been avoiding for hundreds of years. She avoids them to avoid the pain of not knowing them so intimately, of never being able to cradle a tiny body to her chest and give it life. And now... As happy as she wants to be for Tahir, to congratulate him and celebrate the new life, all she can express in her eyes and on her face is that of pure shock and sadness.

The long, thick, raven strands of her hair swish lightly through the air as she shakes her head no, backing away from the door, resembling a deer caught in the glaring headlights of its impending doom.

"I can't Tahir..." she whispers out from under her breath, not taking her eyes off the entrance of the room, "...Not yet."

At first Tahir feels a pain in his chest that his own sister doesn't want to meet his son. But then he remembered the conversation that he and Alexis had when the vampire had been hypnotizing Arzu.

Was it her own infertility that was driving her away?

The man wanted to persuade her and ask to her reconsider. He wanted her to meet her nephew, the newest member of their family.

But he was worried if he did that she would leave again, maybe to not come back.

Sadness filled his eyes and he closed the door, stepping out into the hallway with Arzu.

"Fine then. What was it you needed?" He asked, his voice lower and more grim.

In shame, Arzu holds her fail elbows in her hands, receding slightly into herself. She saw Tahir's eyes, how that sadness grew in them, she does nothing but cause pain for that man, how selfish of her. Another knot is swallowed down her throat and she speaks quietly,

"I need you to help me cure a vampire from a curse..." she speaks, her voice fragile, near silent, "The D'yavol Krovi curse." She knows those words will be the only ones she needs to speak, the curse in question is a horrific one that many in her profession know of, even Tahir.

"There isn't much time left before it kills him, but he has an immortal, he just needs me to finish up the spell," she says, standing back against the wall to continue to gaze at her feet, as if talking to them, "But I am not powerful enough to make the final spell on my own."

Tahir thought that maybe he hadn't heard her right when she said the name of the curse.

That was very, very serious.

But the more she spoke the more he realized that she was in fact speaking of the D'yavol Krovi curse.

He was stunned she had managed this far on her own. Stunned and proud.

With all the years it took her to free Tahir from his own curse, she had become a better master of the dark arts than her older brother.

"Who is the vampire?" He finally asked as he followed.

"Smiley, the pale brown-haired one. His body reeks of blood all the time and his eyes seem dead when he speaks with no one," he says in a low voice, not wanting anyone to overhear. She does not know if the vampire man has any foes she should be concerned about, but she wouldn't put it past him if he did have any.

"He is not here in this moment, he has ventured to retrieve the immortal so we can extract his blood, but until then... I need someone powerful to assist me in completing the spell," Arzu looks up into her brother's eyes, her own look somewhat scared, but very eager, "You are the only one I know who has that kind of power brother."

Arzu bows her head, putting herself in a position where she is lower than Tahir, wanting him to know she feels horribly for everything she has done, even though the words don't pass through her lips. She stays this way until he speaks to her again.

"The man is named Smiley?" Tahir asked with a furrowed brow. It seemed of all the questions he could have asked, that one would have been the least important. Still, it caught him off guard.

It would all make more sense once he met the vampire, that much was for certain.

Tahir reached up and ran his hand through Arzu's hair. It was something he had been doing since she was just a child. It was one of his ways of showing affection towards her.

"Show me where you are set up." He said. His voice was low, as usual, but dull as well.

The small woman nods her head yes in reply to his question and she recognizes that it isn't a very important one… But she is not in the proper mindset to press the subject more than it needs to be pressed.

As if out of instinct Arzu leans her head against Tahir's hand as it strokes through her hair, something she has done since she was small in response to his  touches. In a very strong way him petting her hair like this makes her feel a bit better about the situation… Relief that her brother hasn't abandoned her entirely even after all she has done to him…

She can't think about those things too much or she will get too emotion to preform the task at hand.

Arzu once again nods her head in response and starts leading her older brother toward her set up in the storage room, a room thick with the smoke of her potion, papers tacked up all over the walls, remnants of food scattered on the floor from weeks without leaving the space. It is apparent that Smiley has been living here too, books scattered about his side of the room, small mammals, drained of blood in neat little piles.

"The caldron is over there," She gestures to the big black pot in the corner, emitting the fumes that are thick in the air, "We need to put as much power as possible into it… I will need you to chant with me from some of the ancient texts."

Oddly enough, a feint smile came to Tahir's place when he saw the storage area.

It reminded him of his days practicing spells and magic. The heat in the room, the stuffiness, the mess and papers tacked around. Even the dead animals were a nice touch.

He didn't mind the smell, dark magic rarely was pleasant to the senses.

He'd become accustomed to the stenches and the eye-watering stings.

Arzu's older brother nodded his head, walking with her over to the cauldron.

Arzu walks beside her brother, keeping her head bowed slightly to let him know that she feels beneath him. She feels as through her physical actions may help him see what she is feeling emotionally without having to listen to her pathetic words.

Once there, Arzu takes a seat before the pitch black cauldron, crossing her legs and motioning with her head for Tahir to sit opposite to her. She reaches out for the oldest and most worn looking book in the room, bound with a gray-brown looking leather.

The woman turns once to a page she has marked off, the text leaving the page nearly black from how much writing there is. She scans it, looking for the correct passage to complete the potion.

"...This spell may take hours Tahir..." she warns quietly, praying she is not dragging her brother away from his... Responsibilities for too long.

Tahir nodded his head.

He was aware of the fact that this spell would take a very long time.

The curse they were working on healing was one of the most complicated there were.

He certainly was no newcomer when it came to dealing with magic. And all though Arzu had passed him on magic abilities while he was contained to the sword, the two were both very powerful.

With both of their powers combined, it would be magnificent what they could do.

Arzu reaches out her hands across the steaming cauldron for her brother to take, gazing down at the book before her studiously.

She has had much experience in the dark arts and in this moment, it feels as though all of it has conditioned her for this very spell, right now. This is a true test of her magical strengths, and she'll need every last bit of her strength for it... Perhaps even Tahir's.

Once Tahir grasps her hands she begins reciting the ancient text in a very steady, calm voice, a voice with much more strength than Tahir has heard in a long time.

The longer she speaks, the more her voice begins to change and transform into a hallow, mystic chant. The contents of the cauldron begin to bubble more furiously, their colors changing slowly from dark greens to bright purples and oranges.

Tahir took his sisters bony hands in his own large and strong ones. He only held her hand with his thumb, middle, and pointer finger. Part of him was still worried that he could easily break her if he wasn't careful.

Hearing her voice strong like this, speaking such mystical words, was like music to the mans ears. He loved hearing his sister sound strong and full of life again. It was what he longed to hear.

He pushed back how low he felt that she refused to meet his son, and instead focused on all the progress she had been making.

But alas, even that he had to push out of his mind, so that it could be clear and he could focus completely on the task at hand.

He listened to the chants only long enough to pick them up before joining his sister in the ritualistic words.

His hands held to hers a bit tighter.

An hour passes by as Arzu chants, a small sweat starting to form on her brow. The woman has trained herself to become engulfed wholly in her spells when she casts them, relieving her spirit from her earthly state, becoming one with the chants.

She is no longer Arzu Sijistani, but the spell itself, the being of the spell coming to life from the pages of the text, living through the words escaping Arzu's mouth, summoned by her overwhelming desire to create something so powerful that it can cure the most damned of souls.

Tahir, if focusing on the way Arzu looks and feels, would be unable to see his sister, the spiritual entity of his sister. From her suffering and pain, she now has the powerful ability to detach when she so desires to. She can let go of her earthly being as she has before in times when she wanted to die, though that is no longer the case.

Arzu is powerful enough to leave herself to let the spell live through her. By standing on the edge once, she no longer fears the fall.

Tahir did not focus on Arzu. He too was one with the spell they were conjuring. His sense of time vanquished.

Due to the eternity he had spent in the sword, he was able to lose himself in is work with little effort. Hours were seconds. By the time this would be over, he'd not know how long they had truly been there for.

Though he was rusty, he was still far more skilled than the average spell caster. His sister had obviously passed him up, but he was still of great worth in what they were doing. The chance of success here was slim, but the odds were in the siblings favor.

This spell casting would drag on for hours though neither sibling would be able to tell. To be so engulfed in this magic is comparable to a Ketamine trip. Time and space distort and twist so all attention is on the subject at hand. Hunger, thirst, exhaustion are all things that can be ignored in this situation and so as the hours drag on Arzu begins to sweat, her clothes sticking to her body, her breath getting heavier though she pays no mind to it.

The swirling, searing concoction within the cauldron churns from color to color, like the potions of a witch. All the colors are dark and thick, hues of moss greens, infectious yellows, midnight blues, and blood reds. The smoke from the potion encases the siblings, filling the room with scents of night winds and fresh blood.

The potion tries to throw them off too, just as Arzu had suspected from her studies. Within the smog the cries of an infant can be heard, the cackles of old bats, the angry snaps of young men. The sister blocks everything out, never faltering from her chants, adding the right ingredients at the right times, stirring exactly when the potion needs to be stirred. All they need now is that Immortal's blood.

All they need now is Smiley.

As his sister was, Tahir found himself completely absorbed into the spell.

The baby crying was the hardest part for him.

He never ceased his chanting, he never lost his focus.

But the panic tried to get in. The man was worried for his son. Jem.

But Alexis was taking care of him. She was more than capable.

It was just the spell, nothing more.

Once this phase of the spell was complete, Tahir let out a breath of relief. It felt as if it was the first breath he had taken since they started.

The man wiped the sweat from his brow and smiled at his sister. He reached his hand out to touch hers, making sure she was okay.

This is the point of the spell casting where they must add in the Immortal's blood, the key ingredient and by far the most difficult part of the spell casting. That part will require more attention and focus than any part leading up to this moment.

The weary wereworlf woman looks up at her brother, he sweet, forgiving brother, now a father and perhaps husband and touches her hand to his.

"...I must wait for the vampire now. To keep the spell at bay I must maintain it constantly and I do not require your assistance for it," she says softly, but with her underlying passion in her voice, "...Go to your family and stay with them until I send someone to retrieve you for the next part of the spell. It will be difficult... It may take longer than this... And I appreciate all you have helped me with Tahir. I do not want to ask too much from you."

The potion in the cauldron beneath their noses illuminates their faces a dull purple hue, caressing the curves of their faces, adding to the eeriness of their situation.

The large Persian mad nodded in understanding.

If he did not have his own family, he would have insisted on staying and helping Arzu. But his baby needed him much more than Arzu did.

"If you require anything send someone for me immediately, sister." He said. He wanted his only living sibling to be safe and unharmed.