"I have a brother," she says, and there is a wealth of meaning and history behind that simple statement that makes it seem to ache with an emotion hard to define. The time was that there would never have been a need to discuss her loyalties, as complex as they have become; they never swore allegiances that they had no need of, that they transcended.

Perhaps if it had been oaths that had been broken it would have felt less like a part of her torn out.

"We aren't separate, as most are; individual, but not separate. Our life is ours, one whole that we share in, and if I were to cut my hand, he would bleed."

She turns her hands palm up, glancing down at them for a moment and thinking of sense memories that don't belong to her.

"He lies injured, some place out of my reach."