The defensiveness of his brother’s hackles and his expression cut like a blade, making Iskandor nearly falter in his steps. The sight of that distrust was almost enough to stop him in his tracks—but not quite. He held his ground, his gaze solid as he caught his breath.
The words that rang out from Cit stung, but Iska didn’t flinch. Instead, he met his brother’s gaze, and began to speak. Memories flashing in his mind, of family, of Armada. “Yes, it was my home. It was your home too.” he agreed, a bit of a somber edge coloring his words before it vanished with his next, “You think I care about walls, about borders, when my brother is out here alone? Mom, dad, our brother, our sisters have each other. Who do you have?” The words tugged at his heart as he spoke them, but it was the truth. If he let his brother leave alone, here, now—he wouldn’t forgive himself.
He shook his head from the thoughts, tone softening as he continued. “You don’t have to push me away. Not me.” He stepped closer, slowly, so as not to reignite Citadel’s wariness. His voice dropped further, rich with sincerity, eyes meeting the gold of his brother’s. “Why? Because you’re my brother, Citadel. Because I want to be there for you, even if it feels like everyone else has given up.” Iskandor paused, his turquoise gaze unwavering. In his heart he wished for the issue to be resolved, but the boy knew that wounds only healed with time and care.
"Speech"
