[/html]Kharma did not know that he had ever loved Andre, or even his father. He had felt an obligation to, perhaps, but his only full-blooded brother had been a nasty creature from the very start, and he had always felt diametrically opposed to him and all of his beliefs, words, and actions. They had been perfect opposites, and the younger brother had always sought to offer a balance. Andre had deserved to die; this was something he would never doubt. If not for what he had done to Talitha, then it would something else, someone else. Perhaps it was lucky that the family had been allowed to destroy its own, rather than let the monster harm another family, and bring with him vengeance.
Rachias had dug him that grave and brought him that stone. She had always felt that stronger pull towards family; she had always been kind and far more forgiving -- truly forgiving, willing to make amends, willing to look past madness. Kharma had often wished for her simple caring, and he felt he would be visiting the dead in her stead, little more. It was the same with their father. Kharma had spoken to him once in his life, and that was all. Rachias had loved him more honestly.
Kaena spoke of a brother he had never known, nor even heard of, and the traveler narrowed his eyes. It was a mantra he had long internalized, but had rarely had reason to speak aloud. "I am not like them," he said quietly, looking past her to the row of skulls. "I cannot say what you do or do not deserve," he did not know her well enough to. "But I do not blame you for anything," he repeated, "And I know Rachias never did either."
He straightened again and slipped the hood back over his head. "Thank you," he said, "Please take care of yourself." He bowed again, and then was gone.
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