Sibling Rivalry (originally on their own pages but I'm duplicating the entire thing on both siblings) (/the_endings/sibs-1.htm - Lifera's chapter)

Lifera sat in his throne, head propped on the heel of his hand, bored. It was no surprise that he was having trouble keeping awake, his sister was petitioning again, for those little people that he liked to call his subjects.

"They're trying very hard to impress you, my brother, but they aren't going to do it, especially if you keep changing your rules the way you do." Gresilla snarled, "So if you could possibly come to an agreement about your laws and your expectations, we could all get along better."

"I hardly think that my choice of methods could be comprehended by these mortals, Gresilla, and why you continue to soil yourself with them is beyond me. We ruled together before."

"That was long ago," the tall pale woman said, flatly, "and your rules have changed too often even for my tastes. Get a grip," she finished, and turned to leave the room.

Lifera was left sitting there, foot gently tapping against the marble floor. He glanced up, examining the gilded carvings on the top of the throne and noticing that parts of the wood below were showing.

"What a sad state of affairs when I cannot have a proper gold throne..." He sighed. Standing, shaking some life back into his limbs after having sat all morning, Lifera slid into one of the side chambers from the throne room, and watched the courtyard activities from a slitted window.

Pathetic little lives, of people who would barely live long enough to breed, let alone be able to understand the most basic elements of their own lives. It took them several generations to even chronicle their wars or their lineages - and even then most of them couldn't read.

Lifera tried to get rid of the foul taste in his mouth that arguing with Gresilla always gave him. Though he loved her - in ways that siblings ought not to, in fact - he was growing to realize that she really did have it in her head that his rule was ... somehow wrong?

But he couldn't understand it. They had been raised under the same circumstances, of course not by their parents - they had died as per typical of immortal-born.

His mind wandering, Lifera growled at their parents for having brought even yet one more sorry immortal into the universe. One chance, they would have only one chance to breed, and then like horrific lower life forms they would DIE. He shook his head, and pushed his shaggy silvery hair behind his long pointed ear.

How could they be called immortal if they bred and then died? Living long enough to make sure their spawn could survive their childhood years and then suddenly wasting away. Lifera didn't want to face that.

He and his sister had lived for almost six thousand years on the barren world of their birth. Then, more than ten trying to get the native beings into shape for star-worthy travel. They studied swordsmanship, magic, politics and navigation together... Lifera proved best at manipulation and subversive magics. Gresilla loved playing with swords and running around on the battlefield distracting people with her womanly assets.

She could be ruthless on the field. That was part of why Lifera loved her so much. That she could find an opponent's weak points and then blast through a hundred soldiers to reach her goals. That, and even though they were immortal and could take grievous hits, she rarely was even touched on the field.

Lifera didn't much like fighting hand to hand. He could do it, he thought as he drew his hand along the stone window ledge. He could jump down the thirty feet to the dirt below and wade through the dozen soldiers with just his hands. He had never forgotten the lessons learned when they couldn't leave their worlds. Starvation was one of them, and that taught them both more than even magic could.

That they would not die from being hungry was meant to be a blessing, he thought. Mortals, he gazed at them from the window, thought so highly of being immortal - to never die! But to an immortal like himself, the endless pain and even worse the boredom... The hunger of starvation gnawing at your insides yet eternally able to produce new cells to replace whatever had been lost... Thirst was worse. That always made them look like dessicated corpses, and even hindered their movement, for without water in their cells they could hardly be expected to flex muscles.

They had done things to keep themselves sane, while their subjects evolved into sentience. Games. Well, Lifera now suspected that HE was the one doing these things, Gresilla didn't seem to like playing them. Not any more.

He grunted and walked away from the window, in disgust. But whether it was disgust for himself, the mortals there, or his sister, he wasn't sure and didn't care. He thrived in disgust - it was actually one of his favorite emotions.

- (/the_endings/sibs-2.htm, Gresilla's part)

Gresilla grumbled at her brother, but tried to keep her anger to herself. He was just being pissy, as usual. But his pissiness could easily last decades, if not generations, and her goals were a little more... Short term.

The tall pale immortal woman apologized to her human group, as she led them back outside from the castle. "He's like this. I will work on him, I promise."

The old bearded family chief looked up at her, his weakened eyes squinting. "He will doom us all," he said, voice like iron over stone. Gresilla closed her eyes, nodding.

"I know. I will try, that is all I can promise."

She heard how they grumbled at her, while they left. The group of them had such high hopes - after all she was the emperor's sister! Did that not make her the empress? Or what?

Well, she knew it was 'or what'. Her distaste at even having to be around her brother was growing. Why she didn't just up and leave the world entirely, she wasn't sure.

A pair of children ran past her, one squealing in terror and the other in delight, frog in hand and pigtail covered in mud...

And Gresilla's heart melted again. Maybe Lifera didn't understand how hard it was to be among mortals, to ache for the life they had that the immortal body could never. It was true that she would have done things in the blink of an eye that no mortal could achieve in a hundred years. Surviving an arrow through the heart. Living with water in her lungs. Crawling into the desert to out run bandits and remaining there without food or water for a month.

Yet Gresilla could never hold her own child in her hands, could never feel the kick of an unborn babe within her. She could - but the fear of her own true mortality caught up with her.

Why did she 'soil' herself with them? Because she knew full well that only another immortal would sire a child with her. And it thankfully wouldn't be him - they knew that much already. But only an immortal, no human or elfin or ... whatever they found themselves among, could be the father of an immortal child.

Lifera occasionally wanted to go seeking out other immortals. They had met some, even some of other races than their own. She'd made complicated notes about who was from what sector of the galaxy, what kind of features they shared and which they did not - and noticed that among humanoid races, there were usually at least a couple true immortals born.

But Lifera's curiosity died the moment he learned of their true mortality. Now he just wanted to live above life, not with it. Not foster it, care for it... Simply use it to his own needs.

And Gresilla hated him. They were not rivals - they didn't share enough commonality in desire any longer. He stayed up there in his broken castle above a dirty hold, being supplied by starving and sad and illiterate subjects. He thought it was great. As long as he had what he wanted, everything was well with his world.

So as long as he was happy, Gresilla determined centuries before, she and her mortal companions could not be.

Now, of course she met with some anger and resistance from people. She was one of 'them', the immortal kind, the ruling class, or whatever the distaste-du-jour was among the people. The mere fact that she looked slightly elfin, with her pointed ears and pale skin, white silver hair and blazing red eyes, was enough for some humans to decide she was evil incarnate.

Others saw those features and viewed a goddess. And in truth, she wanted to be neither.

Gresilla was not always a nice person of course. She was fierce, indeed. But she was patient enough to deal with mortal issues, as well as immortal ones.

She looked up at the castle, then found her horse and mounted up. She'd have to do something about her brother, but she hadn't yet decided quite what.

--(/the_endings/sibs-3.htm, Lifera)

While Gresilla was out playing with her mortal friends, Lifera was plotting something new. He often was inspired to create objects or plot out intricate castles or pyramids. This was a complex revenge that he was making. Slow. It would have to go very slowly indeed.

Slower than any of her human companions could live through, that was certain. He'd bring her to his side, knowing that she would be spouting more mortal whining - and then he'd lower the hammer.

A long, darkly pleased smile crossed Lifera's thin lips. He'd heard about other human encampments on this dirtball. Perhaps they would offer the proper tributes to his greatness where these 'cultured' folk would not.

He could be revered as a god, and indeed he deserved to be. And when he was one culture's god, he'd reign terror on others because they didn't *have* living gods, did they?

Could their gods produce fire out of water? Could they bring blood from a marble wall? Miracles such as those were simple processes for an experienced mage such as himself - and of course Gres would see through it instantly. The trick would be to isolate himself long enough in this other culture, whereever he found it, and keep the secret to himself.

He'd tell her he was leaving the world. More fertile places to be, anyway. Out there, in the stars.

The grin on his long face grew wider, more sinister. "Oh yes, my sister, my blood, my queen... You'll regret keeping to the gutter when you could be gazing from the parapets..."

Lifera looked down again, from his own tower's narrow balcony, and kept the smile. It fit him perfectly.

--(/the_endings/sibs-4.htm, Gresilla)

For another twelve years, Gresilla fought her brother to get land rights for the people inhabiting the area. She fought to give them proper housing. Schooling? That would have to come in their next generation because she didn't have the time to reproduce any works of literature or remember much higher math that they could possibly comprehend.

She knew of course, that Lifera was plotting something. But he'd not left his keep much in that time. Several visits to neighboring kingdoms where he allied himself with a barbaric and cruel king, and the other almost lost theirs to his rages.

But she didn't know about his plot, and Gresilla didn't much care. She was concerned that the crops that the locals were making had started to thin out over the last decade, and that didn't bode well.

"Crop rotation," she muttered, "but there aren't enough crops to rotate around here..." She sat in the darkness of her lowly wooden home, listening to the crickets outside and the endless burbling of the small waterfall which powered the mill nearby.

"Ah..." she sighed, smiling at last. "The Forest Walkers will be here next season and they will have news of the east. I'll ask them about things. Seeds, plants... imports..."

She drifted to sleep with a quill pen in her hand, and was awakened in the morning abruptly by the pounding of a metal-clad fist on her wooden door, and the sounds of a steed pawing the ground outside.

"Gresilla," her brother's voice brought a wave of nausea to her throat. "I've come to say good bye," he announced.

The purr in his voice didn't go unnoticed by the woman, but she stood and swept the soot from her fire off of her fine hair and shoulders.

"Lifera. Good. Good bye." She said, barely opening the door. "I shall take better care of these people than you could imagine, I suppose."

"Oh, you'll do that I expect. You may even use my keep. I'm quite done with it. I will be heading to the Steel Desert and teleporting away. I'm so bored here. I cannot understand the first thing about your ways, sister. These humans are ... like gnats, only louder."

"And you're like a leech, only better dressed," Gresilla muttered, and Lifera almost lost his temper and hit her, but he restrained himself. She was half-asleep, and that worked to his tremendous advantage.

"Well then I will see you, perhaps in another millennia. Enjoy your little dirty mortals." He said, and tossing his long hair over his shoulder he lept to his steed's back and kicked his heels into its flanks. They galloped away, and vanished among the trees.

His castle sat high over the forest, yet not so high that there were not other mountains beyond it. Gresilla stood against the doorway and watched the dust from his steed's hooves settle in the bright morning haze.

"The Steel Desert, huh? Why not teleport out of the keep's courtyard? Or are you just running away? I think you don't have enough power to jump to an inhabited world, brother of mine..."

She did, of course, because she'd been conserving her magical energies all this time and concentrating on the important things: crops and health care. She would never waste her energy on a jump though, not right now. It would take her decades to recharge that energy should she use it, and she didn't want to get stuck somewhere less desirable than this world.

Gresilla walked out of her home and into the small village on the edge of the woods. The Forest Walkers were expected, but would they be there soon enough?

"Falanch?" She asked of a man who pounded a heavy mallet into a thick leather hide, making a tarp for someone's home.

"Yes, elf? What is it?" He was never pleased to see anyone so she didn't take it as an insult.

"I've a request, your second son, he's a message runner isn't he?"

"He is," the man grunted, still hammering away.

"Is he in the village?"

"He's in the pub, where he always winds up." He looked up from his work, and added, "you've got work for him?"

"I do," Gresilla said, "and I hope that the payment will be more than just for his work. Thank you Falanch."

She walked to the pub and found the young man, a fresh faced youth just starting to shave, and sat down beside him.

"I've a job for your legs, Felspar," she said. "I need you to check on the Forest Walkers. And, I need you to trail my brother."

At those words, the pub fell silent. There were few enough people in it at the time, but they all took in a breath.

"He's gone to the Steel Desert, or so he says," Gresilla said, loud enough for the others to hear as well, "but he travels to the north, not the west. The Forest Walkers know the terrains and the people of the whole area, and I need that knowledge to keep up on him. He claims he's leaving the world for good - and I don't believe him for a minute."

The pause in the noise was replaced by a sort of relieved sigh - the people of at least this village and the nearby townships would be lifted of their horrible burdens to supply Lifera's 'needs'.

"I can find the Walkers, they would be interested in this any way. Do you want me to tell them to come early?"

"Yes, Fel. That's exactly it. And if they could possibly bring a map or a scroll that tells of the northern passages and lands, I'd be doubly appreciative. Ah, and," she said, pulling a note sealed with sticky sap on a tiny spot from her vest, "that they need to give this to their shaman. He will know what to do, I think."

"Yes Lady!" Felspar said, and began his journey the moment he had been given it. The others in the room watched as he gathered his goods and packed up, but some watched Gresilla for her reaction.

"If you think you've reason to mistrust me, you have no idea what my brother is capable of. I intend to protect you from it, whatever his intent may be this time."

"You've been our protector for generations, Gresilla," someone said, "but your brother has always been our bane, and no one rememebers when we were able to make our own decisions. Ever think of just leaving us to our fate?"

Gresilla drew in a long breath, and nodded. "Yes. And the depth of guilt I'd feel when I see the results would be impossible for you to understand."

Gresilla left the pub and began the journey to her brother's keep, where she would set up her alchemy lab and see about tracing him the easier way...

--(/the_endings/sibs-5.htm, Lifera)

The steed ran ceaselessly into the hills. For fifteen days Lifera pressed on up the mountains into the north lands. True the Steel Desert would be an interesting place to spend a few years, but it didn't have resources like he knew the northlands did.

The mountains he traversed were dangerous in the winter, and it was a good thing he had selected early summer to start this journey. Even he didn't much like getting caught in a blizzard, and it was more to his point to head out and keep going, instead of having to hole up somewhere.

Even so, the high and rocky peaks were covered in ice and snow, and it rained regularly, freezing upon hitting the ground. The steed's hooves were probably frozen solid as it plodded along.

When the steed breathed a hard glassy last breath, and toppled below the tall man, he cursed at it. More, he cursed at himself - the spells keeping the beast alive and kicking had wore off and he didn't remember to reload it. There would be a lot of walking in his future.

Except that he could bring the thing to a state of unlife, and that he did without hesitation. Another two weeks of travel and Lifera met up with the first signs of habitation in these cold high peaks.

A pale skinned young man, and an equally pale girl, obviously having some kind of romantic interlude. The steed Lifera rode had a stench around it like that of a dead beast - he made no effort to conceal it. It was starting to look quite ragged around the edges as well, and gauntness had stolen the flesh from its sides and face.

The woman clutched her bodice to herself, and then clung to her young boyfriend. He stood bravely in front of her for a moment, and then took her hand and bolted away.

They would be running toward their homes, surely, not a survival trait. He followed them.

Lifera did this for two years, haunting the barren hills and the spring festival grounds... Loving every second of it.

But there came a time when he remembered his goals and took flight again. His undead steed was now all but skeletal, shrouded in hard skin and nothing else. An aura of both vile and powerful magic eminated from the beast. It was no more intelligent than it had been before, but it was alive and didn't have to eat. Nor sleep.

As Lifera crossed the northern mountains, and began to descend into the more temperate climate of a huge valley land below, he pondered how to introduce himself to the tribal folk living in colorful huts down there.

The spirit of death personified? That would do.

When he was about to put spell after spell upon himself to make his appearance so terrifying that the first couple people would just about drop dead from looking at him, something odd happened.

A colorless light caught his crimson eye, and he turned to see a form coming out of the sky. It had grace, style, wings... A dragon.

"Here? A dragon?" He muttered, and the steed snorted a breathless hateful noise.

Yes, a dragon, here. Come with me. I've use for you and I think you will be pleased at the results. It will help you too. The dragon thought into Lifera's head. He was annoyed at the intimacy of the contact, but he knew that the dragon meant business.

He was sure that this blackish green dragon was female, the voice perhaps? But she was quite insistant. He paused only a moment.

"Where are we headed?" He asked, dismounting and casting a preservation spell upon the steed so that when he got back, it would still be there waiting.

CyDragonstake. The dark sands, Nero sands if you will know. Now, come here. She held out her sharp arms, and even Lifera was hesitant. This dragoness looked like she would and easily could snap his head off.

It is good that you fear me. But you will fear my anger if you do not come. I have laid eggs, and you will bond to one of them. Their sire will eat them if I do not get back now. Come.

So Lifera headed out, with a dangerous black and green dragoness to a place he'd never heard of, with the first fluttering of wonder and the next of delightful fear in his chest.

--(/the_endings/sibs-6.htm, Gresilla)

Just over two and a half years had gone by and Gresilla and her little human encampment were prospering for the first time in so long no one could remember.

They had a celebration, for spring. The winter had been mild and the crops were coming in full and healthy thanks to the Forest Walkers' advice and a few packets of seeds that their shaman sent.

The other news that Gresilla found amusing was that when the boy Felspar followed her brother, he got as far as a mountain cavern before having to turn back. But by then, word had already started to drift south into their lands that a strange pale death-rider had been haunting them.

It was Lifera, she was certain.

But what had happened after the tales stopped? Where had he gone now? The Forest Walkers didn't know what was on the other side of the north range, their expertise was to the south and east, but they promised that their seers had confidence that Gresilla was doing the right thing.

The spring festival was going nicely, Gresilla was up in the tower putting together an enchanted potion she was hoping to award to someone during the contests of strength and skill. It was a nice thing to do, and they were finally starting to appreciate it.

Gresilla watched the contests with a pleased eye. The young men of the village were quite healthy, now. They looked like they ought, with full muscles and taut skin over them glowing with fine sweat.

Oh how she adored human males... Gresilla was about to hand out a congratulation when above them, a strange vision of dark and light appeared - abruptly turning into a dragon!

Several of the families with young children scattered screaming, and many of the people present yelled that Lifera was back! But Gresilla didn't sense him on this dragon's aura in the slightest.

She was a full sized dragon, with creamy colored hide and a pleasant looking rider on her back. That made the people of the village relax a bit, as the dragon settled to the ground.

"I bring you news," said the woman on the dragon. "There is a clutch of eggs to hatch at CyDragonstake and I must have a strong bunch to stand as bonders." She looked at Gresilla. "You... I think," she got a glazed look as she spoke to her dragon.

"Yes, you. My bond here says that you have a great need - a need you might not know about."

Gresilla thought back to getting the shaman's letter back - and his words were almost exactly the same. "I shall go with you," she said.

There was outcry from the villagers, but the dragon rider held her hands up. "She will be back! I promise. If you do not bond, you will come right back. And if you do, you'll be able to learn the secrets of transport."

Gresilla grinned widely. Teleportation without expending her own personal energies! Wonderful!

"I need to collect some things," she said, "but first I must ask that you move a bit. We were just about to have a foot race, and I've got prizes that need awarding!"

The gathered crowd cheered and came back around the racers, and the day went happily on until Gresilla left for Cy Dragonstake.

--(/the_endings/sibs-6a.htm, Gresilla)

Gresilla was rather horrified that her brother had bonded at Cy Dragonstake. As she stood and watched, the eggs all hatched - and no dragon bonded her. This worried her immensely, and she hoped that they would get caught up in doing things other than destroying villages and taking over worlds, in the mean time while she waited.

The locals could tell she was nervous because they assured her that she'd be standing on the other sands, the proper - light - sands, to bond. Hopefully. They always added that word, because it was never certain.

At least she hadn't bonded something with ... well, too many heads. That suited her brother just fine. But not her.

At long last, though, the white-green's clutch on the normal sands was announced. Hastily, she and the few other candidates were shuffled into the sands hall and they watched eagerly as the dragons combed over the sands. The eggs were bouncing, but one of them broke and the yellow dragonet bonded. These were far more normal looking dragons, and Gresilla breathed a sigh of relief.

After all, how could she possibly go back to the world with a scary, deviant looking dragon?

A green bonded next, then the largest egg of Tansak's small clutch burst open. A lovely bronze exited, and then - another! There had been twin bronzes in the egg! Even though she'd already lived a very long time and had seen stars die ... Gresilla was excited. Here was life, in all its glory - and the first of the clouded bronze dragonets began to make his way toward her!

Call me Lateros. I am glad that you waited here long enough for me to hatch. I thank thee. The mighty bronze sat down in front of Gresilla and arched his neck in pleasure of finding his partner.

"So am I," replied Gresilla as they began walking off the sands. The pair drew odd stares from some of the older inhabitants... Weren't bronzes meant for big burly males, after all? Well, this one was for Gresilla, and she knew that her brother's hydragon was female anyway.

The strength and size of their dragons would definitely come into play some day. Well, some day after Lateros had been well-fed and was no longer itchy!

Gresilla and Lateros were wary when Lifera's hydragon flew off back to their old world. They knew he would be there when they got back themselves, and it would be a disaster. The hydragon's heads had blossomed so they knew it would be a nasty homecoming.

Why don't we practice flying more, Lateros said with confidence. Because I will keep them at bay. You want to protect those people, and I will help you.

"I knew I could count on you, my friend..." Gresilla said. "And I'll be working on some spells to protect you."

Lateros had finally grown - but Lifera's Hydragon had grown much faster - in fact so fast that she was participating in some flight offworld.

At least they are away from here - that will give us time to correct some of the damage he's done. Lateros urged his rider. The clouded bronze dragon nuzzled his pale skinned partner and she nodded.

Gresilla was exhausted from having to undo the damage time after time. This would be good because it would allow them some amount of respite from his rampages.

The Hydragon was surely the nastiest, most ill tempered thing ever hatched. And, with all those heads, she could do so much more than just bite or breathe flames... She could lay waste.

"She's at a flight, Lateros," Gresilla groaned, when she realized what that might mean, "she's going to be bringing little versions of herself into some world... I hope they don't wind up here."

I hope not. Maybe they will eat her on their way out of their eggs?

"Lateros!" Gresilla gasped, but then laughed. "That's so awful. Come now, let us start with the hillside - look at it, it's just black with muck."

They went along their way, over the next few months, changing the landscape to one more livable. And in time, the people below learned not to fear the softly colored bronze dragon - they trusted his rider enough, and depended upon her for their outside communication already.

And perhaps some day I might fly in a mating frenzy too? I do not know if I could find a permanent mate - you might be uncomfortable with the results.

"Why would that be?"

Because I am male, and bronze dragons rank over most others. The females like to have female riders.

"Then why did you pick me? A big strong bronze like you?" Gresilla hugged her strong, wise dragon's neck.

Because you and this world needed me the most - no one else on the sands came close! Now, I will find a mate or two some day. I want to see if that lake is still polluted...

--(sibs 7a is on Lifera's page should I ever make it...)

** Note that now she resides at CHS in Crescent City on Twoarth, long having moved on from the fantasy-based world her brother ruined. Whether he's still there, I do not know.

She becomes an instructor for combat and other such skills, and has allowed Lateros to participate in numerous large-scale battles offworld just to keep him busy. Since he doesn't instruct but definitely resides here most of the time, when her classes need transportation, he's most certainly going to provide it!

And then.

She met Moraga when he arrived.