Sirius Fatalis The sun had just hit the lowest point of the horizon, when he went seeking his would-be-Reaper. As the light began to darken, color seeped across the sky, bright as the wildflowers that sometimes grew below the obelisk that sat in the center of the Armada. There were no wildflowers now, with winters touch well spread across a white-laced world. There was no frost across the white sand of their training beach, only barren earth, and hardy growth that stuck up in tufts between mounds of sand. Places that made up the bank between plains and beach. It was no surprise that he found her here, and the evening made a nice change to the early mornings in which he usually sought her. There was a touch of a smile to his dark muzzle as he watched her training. That moment of intensity before she knew she was observed. All of his reapers worked hard for the rank, but it was quickly becoming obvious that Malalia worked the hardest. She put in the time, the sweat, the pain. She did not falter between the hardest tasks he set her. She was his Phoenix, and she was rising. He felt nothing but pride as he watched her, and when her eyes met his, and she stilled, he grinned. The expression as free as anything he might give zee, Io, Deathbelle. An expression for family. "Malalia, would you walk with me?" He asked of her, coming closer now that he had already disturbed her practicing. The light was almost gone, and the tones of roses and reds and autumns-fall breached out across the sky. "I wish a word, if you have the time" "Speech"

Mal breathed hard as she completed her last turn, pivoting on one paw in a complete about face, before snaking her head forward to snap at the imaginary opponent's hindleg. She was still having trouble getting behind a wolf, as guarded as the area seemed to be, but was slowly getting better at the maneuver. It had worked a few times in the last few spars she'd had. If she wasn't patrolling, she was training, occasionally making her way up north to the battlefield, and coming back with a fair amount of scrapes and bruises. The opponents there were varied in their techniques, stronger, and often more experienced than the near two-year-old. As steadily as she was progressing, the young woman had a lot to learn.

Constantly working to win the competition, to better herself for the Armada -- if only it were that simple. Interestingly, the girl trained a little more after meeting the Valhallan wolf, and after her... whatever, with Mort. There was merit in their words, about working through her troubles, her past, but frankly? The idea terrified her. It was easier to throw herself into her new pack and friendships and routines, and forget everything else. A small, hidden part of her whispered that she'd have to reckon with it, one day. But... not now. Not yet.

Tongue lolling, she paused in her movements, spying the dark, familiar figure making his way towards her. Her tail waved easily in greeting for the man who had taken her in and given her a home, barely a season ago. She paced forward to nose-bump his shoulder as she often did. "'Course," she breathed, grinning and flattening one ear. "How's it going?" she asked conversationally, moving off the training grounds.


"Speech"

Sirius Fatalis He returned the gentle gesture of her nudge with a touch of his shoulder. “Busy,” he responded with a soft sigh. Being an Alpha meant there was always something to do. Preparations to be made for winter, routines to follow. “But good” They walked along the darkening beach, close enough to the ocean that his shadow dipped across the water, stretching out, and rippling with the gentle motions of the tide. He was silent for a moment, simply enjoying the company, the cool breeze of the night, the fresh scents that came with ocean air. When he spoke, it sounded almost like open speculation, idle thoughts. “Io and Banshee are not family to me by blood. Before Zee, I had no family. I lost my parents when I was too young to remember them, and took their place in slavery. Everything I have since then, I worked towards. Every member of my family, chosen. I love Io, and at the time she had no family left to her, I gave her a place in my pack, and my family, out of love. Banshee no longer trusts her father, and was cast adrift because of it. I adopted her to give her purpose, and because I see her as I do my own children.” he paused, his eyes cast out across the ocean, the expanse greater than his eyes could perceive. He could see only the coming darkness. “I don’t tell you this to elicit sympathy, I love what I have, and cherish them, and the places they have in my heart. No, I tell you this so you might understand my desire to give home to those I love - not just in my pack, but my heart. So you know why when I tell you there is a name for you here, if you want it. More than just a title. I don’t know what family you have, what life you left behind when you came to the Armada, but I consider you family now. You're honourable, and sweet. You work hard for what you have, and take nothing for granted. It would be my honour if you took on the name “Fatalis’ and considered yourself my kin.” He felt quiet again, this time a longer silence. A chance for her to consider what he said, and if she wanted what he had to give her. She was going to rise in his ranks, of that he had no doubt. When she became Reaper, it would be because she earned it, and no one could ever suggest otherwise. She would be a force to be reckoned with, and he was proud to know her. Even if she did not want his family name, he would still love her, and consider her his to protect. "Speech"

He might not have sought her sympathy, but he had it fully. Malalia was still as she listened, hearing the Warlord's history, and that of Iolaire and Banshee. Her heart went out to them, the three of them, alone as they were, the last of their kin in one way or another. How could it not, when their stories weren't all that different than her own? The sadness she felt then, was for her, too. Oh, Sirius. She hadn't known much about the man's past. It was strange, that a kind of solace swam within her grief. What a comforting and terrible thing it was, to not be alone in her loneliness.

She wasn't quite sure where he was going with this, but as he went on, offering her more than just a home -- a name -- her eyes couldn't help but to widen. Tiny, invisible knives stabbed her heart, at the mention of the family she left behind. But overwhelming, still, was the joy that coursed through her when he called her family. His family. Mal had considered herself the last of hers. Pia was dead for all she knew.... and as much as she had bonded with Sirius and Mortis, they didn't share blood. They belonged to each other, and the rest of Sirius's family. They weren't her kin... until now, perhaps.

The wash of the shimmering ocean filled her ears, masked the plip of her teardrops onto the sand below her feet. The quickening of her heart, the heat across her face -- she knew she was crying this time. "Gods..." With a mumbled apology, she raised a paw to wipe her face, but only succeeded in smearing sand across the bridge of her nose. The tears kept coming.

A little more silence passed. "I—" She took in a shuddering breath, and turned her face away from the man. Guilt, shame, despair churned in her belly. "My dam, my brother and sister—they—they were killed. And I ran away." She could barely see the water, as clouded as her eyes were. She could barely breathe, but went on, haltingly telling him the story as she had told Mort not too long ago. Her own voice a distant echo in her ears, her lips moving not of her own accord.

"Pia might still be alive," she finished. "Or she might be dead. I don't know." The strange feeling subsided, somewhat, as another few heartbeats of silence passed between them. "I just... I just thought you should know," she sniffled, head bowed. "Before you offered me something like that." She wanted to accept. She did. Even if she wasn't alone, even if Pia were alive, Sirius could be her family, too.

But the guilt was eating at her like never before, she sneaking feeling that she didn't deserve it creeping up her ears. Because how could she deserve anything he gave her? She was supposed to be dead, along with the rest of them. But for some reason, she wasn't.


"Speech"

Sirius Fatalis He was giving the girl a lot to digest, he knew that. He waited with the patience of an ocean as she took in his words. He watched their shadows, one small, one giant, against the water to their side. When he stepped forward, they merged, until you could no longer tell where one wolf ended, and the other began. The sound of a gentle sniffle brought his eyes back to his pupil. He could see his words had struck something, some cord, inside of her. There was grief, but acceptance, too, in the misery of her expression. They had stopped walking, though he could not define exactly when. There was stillness, the soft cry of a bird as it sought its bed. The lapping of ocean waves against the beach, against the ends of his paws. The sound of Malalia, as he broke her heart and built it anew. He didn’t ask for her story, but she told it now. Gave him this gift she had kept locked in the secrets of her heart. “You ran because you did not have the skills to change it. So you came here, and you built them. I suppose that explains your tenacity, your will.” he did not know who Pia was, but he put her name into his heart. Perhaps she would find her way here one day, as Resin had. The old woman had become like a mother to him, but association of Iolaire, and by her own merits. “You aren’t that same wolf now, you’ve taught yourself how to be strong - for yourself, and for others. Of course, if something ever came knocking at our door that can defeat me, I would wish you to run. To take whomever is left that we love, and get them away. My offer still stands, Malalia of the Ashen Empire. Will you be Malalia Fatalis?” He reached over, cupping a sandy paw just below her chin, raising his eyes to his, so he could see her tears. He brushed them away with the side of his paw. The expression tender, fatherly. "Speech"

Perhaps what the Warlord had said was true, in a way. That she worked as hard as she had, to make up for where she lacked, nearly a year ago. She'd been young, not even a yearling at the time. Too young to fight. Too young to do anything about the grief, the injustice that had simmered in the hearts of her packmates until it burst free. It had begun before she was born.

Some part of her, some piece of unfeeling logic that was so far removed from her heart, had told her the same thing. She had never truly believed it, though. Even now, as Sirius reminded her of her helplessness, a choked sob escaped her. She still wasn't sure if she did, but coming from the man she looked up to, whom she cared for, made it a little more true.

Sometimes the pain of being the only one left alive... it was enough for her to wish that she'd simply died alongside them. It'd be better, she had figured, than living alone with these feelings tormenting her inside.

But she wasn't alone anymore.

She laughed faintly at the idea that something -- anything -- could defeat the dire wolf. And, despite what she'd told him -- despite those feelings, muted now, that still coursed through her -- he still wanted her here. Her gaze remained on the sea, when he pulled her chin up. But as he brushed her tears away, she managed to look into his eyes, and saw the love there. Malalia's words were quiet, even and colored with her grief, and her joy when she said, "I will."


"Speech"

She wasnt going to lose her baggage overnight. The pain would linger, the loss would not be made whole with a few simple words and gestures. But perhaps it was the right path, a start towards the right direction. He could call her now what he already knew her to be. His daughter. He chuckled, and wondered how long it would take her to realize she was related in name now to Azure. Or Azure to know it of her. He would have to keep the two from taking each others head. Azure for pride, and Malalia for injustice.

His rising Phoenix took a muted presence along those darkened shores, quiet and withdrawn as she fixed this new piece of her life to her identity. He gave her shoulder a bump, gentle for their differences in weights and size. "Your home now, little Phoenix, I look forward to seeing your rise within the Armada." Born anew, and rising quickly. He would enjoy watching her achievements indeed.

"Malalia Fatalis, Rising Phoenix of the Ashen Empire. Hope you didnt want to avoid lofty titles" he laughed gently, and started to walk once more. The sound of sand crunching underneath, and his shadow withdrew from hers. She would have time to find herself and make it anew within the Armada, within her home.