Sil held each brother's gaze firmly. "No," Vorden said quickly, voice measured, and firm, yet gentle and even. "This isn't about taking sides. It's just a logical strategy."
Sil exhaled sharply, and turned away with an abrupt motion, shaking. Frustration tightened every muscle, knuckles whitening as his fists clenched involuntarily. He drew a slow, calming breath through gritted teeth, forcing down the urge to lash out at the cavern wall—a needless sound that would jeopardize their stealth, and possibly the integrity of the cavern.
He sighed. Turning back to his brothers, he said, "I'm responsible for you both. I asked for your help. Not to mention that if anything happens to either of you, I'm almost more frightened of what your wives will do to me than the Celestials!"
Raten and Vorden exchanged glances. Then Raten turned to Sil. His brows furrowed. "You think so little of our ability to defend ourselves?"
Vorden chimed in next. "I know you feel protective over the ones you care about, Sil— but you don't have to protect us all the time. You don't have to always be the great defender."
"You asked us to come help you—not to be an even greater burden." Raten's voice cracked with frustration. He was clearly hurt and upset. "You know what, Sil? It was me and Vorden who protected you for ten years while you refused to face the world. It was us who kept you alive, who made sure your body wasn't destroyed while we stuck by Quinn's side—for you!"
Sil looked like he'd been slapped.
"Raten," Vorden interjected gently, "we don't have to go there."
"No, Vorden," Raten said, voice rising, "he needs to hear this. He has the nerve to ask for our help and then turns around and insults us by acting like we're children? When you ran off chasing Celestials, it was me, Vorden, and Shiro who led the Blade family from the edge of oblivion. It was us who defended everybody and kept them safe!"
"Just because you got stronger, became a God Slayer, doesn't mean we haven't been through a ton of shit too, Sil. We have different experiences—different strengths."
"Raten, that's enough." Vorden's voice was firmer now.
But Raten's fist moved before his thoughts did. He punched Vorden in the face—not hard, but enough to leave a black eye.
He blinked, stunned by his own actions, and immediately panicked. "Damn it, Vorden, I was worked up. You can't come at me when I'm ranting—my body went into autopilot!" He rushed over, helping Vorden to his feet.
Vorden, checking his face for blood, gave him a sharp look. "Yeah… I realize that now." He grimaced.
Still giving Raten a disapproving glare, Vorden stood upright as Raten turned back to Sil—only to see a few silent tears streaming down his brother's face.
Raten groaned. "Aw, damn it, Sil. Don't tell me you're crying again."
Sil flushed, frowning, and wiped his face with his sleeve. After a long, heavy pause, he turned slowly back toward his brothers, resignation tight in his voice. "I'm sorry, Raten. I'm sorry to both of you. You're right… about all of it. I'm sorry that it seemed like I didn't have faith in you."
He exhaled shakily. "The truth is… I have all the faith in you. That's why I asked you to come—because I know the only people I can truly trust are the two of you."
"Even after what I did all those years ago, you never let me down. You helped me get through. You protected my body. You defended Quinn. You tried to get me strong enough to take the chair. You two faced Hilston for me—before I was even ready to. I owe you everything. Not just because you gave me my life back—" His voice cracked. "But because you gave it back even though I took yours. I'm so, so sorry."
Sil started crying again.
Raten looked away, clearly feeling guilty but trying not to show it. Vorden walked up beside him and said, "Now look what you did, you idiot!" He slugged Raten's arm. It was harder than expected, and Raten stood there rubbing the sore spot, brow furrowed, silently mouthing the word "owe" in disbelief.
Vorden walked over to Sil and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Sil," he said, "shut up. Ignore him. He's an asshole. You don't owe us shit."
"You gave us our lives back too, remember? If it wasn't for you, I'd have never met Jade. I'd have never had little Borden."
Raten chimed in from behind. "Yeah… as much as I hate to agree with Weakballs, he's got a point. Same goes for me—with Cassie and Emy."
Sil sniffled, and a weak smile appeared on his face.
The surge of emotion gradually faded, replaced by resigned acceptance. "Fine," he whispered bitterly, back still turned. "We'll split up."
Raten's smirk was victorious but restrained as he adjusted the weapon at his hip, readying himself with quiet excitement. Vorden nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity behind Sil's reluctant concession.
Sil pivoted, eyes fierce, demeanor steely. "Raten, take the left. Vorden, center. I'll take the right." A pause followed, heavy with meaning. Shooting them both a smirk, with a wink he added, "Blades— stay sharp." Then Sil grinned as the other two groaned in unison beneath their breath with exasperated expressions.
They exchanged curt nods, silent farewells lingering behind each glance as they split, stepping into the dark mouths of their chosen paths. The weight of uncertainty pressed heavily upon them, yet each step was sure, and confident.
The darkness consumed Sil instantly, a cool embrace whispering secrets from the walls around him. Every nerve was on high alert, senses finely tuned as he moved, silent and fluid. After several long moments, the quiet warning in his gut sharpened, becoming something more tangible, undeniable.
The tunnel curved suddenly, widening into another open chamber. A faint glow emanated from odd, luminescent moss sprawling across the stone walls. Sil paused, listening intently. Something was moving ahead.