Andrea shook his head. Focus. He wasn’t about to get distracted by stupid (irritatingly funny) banter. “Uh, hello? What was he talking about?” Andrea stepped in, waving. “What was that?”

Ross brushed an inexistent tear, nudging then Ishram. “Do you want me to tell him?”

Ishram scratched his head, avoiding on purpose Andrea’s eyes, which made Andrea stare at him even more.

Eventually, Ishram sighed and shrugged. “It’s been centuries, who cares. The Emperor’s henchmen were chasing me. Idiotic hired muscles are easy to take over. He’s learned his lesson since then.”

Ross snorted, like it was funny. Making any Emperor learn any kind of lesson hardly resulted in flowers and rainbows, according to Andrea’s history classes.

Andrea blinked. “Are you laughing?”

Ross nodded. “I know, it does sound like a counterproductive move, but it’s fucking hilarious. Given their history.”

Ishram groaned. “I honestly don’t know what he thought was gonna happen.”

Andrea could only watch as they both chuckled at Ishram’s remark. It felt impersonal, to be the only one to actually care about the situation. And he wasn’t even scratching the surface.

“Do you guys always make fun of dangerous situations? Anything else I should know?”

Ishram actually considered the question. Puzzled, he counted something on the tip of his fingers, and then shook his head. “Uh, no. I think that’s all for now.”

Ross facepalmed. Andrea stared at her with a questioning look when Ross clapped her hands and invited them to get back to her office, and Ishram to go back studying.

“I’ll be right back, just give me a moment,” she said as she guided Andrea towards the first door.

Andrea followed her instructions, almost exactly. He delayed a few steps, maybe.

Once the door was closed, he stopped and turned. The working room was now empty, so no one bothered him for spying on their boss. Through the empty lock, Andrea could see and hear only so much, but it was enough.

Ross did say Ishram would keep things from them, important stuff, so Andrea was going to do exactly what she suggested; find out about them. Their voices were muffled, but it was clear how Ishram posture changed once he was alone.

“-ve held that up a bit longer, Ish.” Ross was saying. “At least I hinted at the possibility. Shouldn’t be too bad. Not very smart to say the douche has improved his hunting methods since then.”

“Habit,” Ishram exhaled. “He’ll go crazy by the end of the week anyway, if we keep overloading him like this. Besides, it’s true. He has. Every contract is shorter than the one before. He’s catching up on me, and you know it.”

Ross was quiet for a long time. “We won’t let him.”

Ishram moved out of Andrea’s sight, but Ross was still there. “I don’t know if I can do this another time, Ross.” Ishram’s voice was strained. “I’m tired. I don’t want anyone of you-”

“Nonsense.” Ross moved reached out. “And, you’re always tired, my dear.” Her voice was sweet. “Ish, listen, I know you only trust your sister with-”

“I still do.” Ishram replied abruptly, tearing away from her. “Don’t ask me, Rajja. You already know the answer.”

“I’d follow you too to the end of the world. Isn’t that enough?” Ross pulled back. “You can’t wait to see her to fix your back. You need to let someone else help. It will lessen the pain, and I’m the only one you got to first. It doesn’t have to be me, but you can’t just wait.”

Ishram didn’t reply. Ross waited, and waited, but nothing else came out of Ishram’s mouth. She sighed, and Andrea could hear only muffled noises of Ishram’s voice. Andrea withdrew from the door and walked back to the office. Whatever concerned Ross about Ishram’s back, it was clear that Ishram wanted it left alone.

Andrea didn’t plan on giving him that. He was going to him about it, whether Ishram wanted it or not.

His parents asked him where he was once he came back into the office. He shrugged and sat down, fidgeting with his hoodie’s strings. He wanted to go to a hotel. His chest tightened with each breath, and his breasts hurt when he moved. He needed to get rid of his binder, have a shower, sleep.

[:::]

When Ishram walked inside the office, Andrea was talking with his parents on which hotel they should book. Ross had suggested one of their venues closest to the workshop, so when their new ID’s were ready, they could get them as quickly as possible and be on their way. Ishram didn’t care to intrude, so he waited it out, staring blankly at Ross’ studio.

He needed a safe place to rest. Actually rest. “Hey, Ross?” he called, looking at the Kishaard. His stomach growled. “Got something to eat?”

Ross clicked her tongue, unamused. “When were you planning on telling me?” She raised from her seat and left.

Awkward silence filled the studio for the minutes it took Ross to bring back some fresh meat. Ishram ate it outside her office; Andrea’s face was enough for Ishram to get out as fast as possible.

He was chewing on raw cow muscles and sitting on a spare chair, curiously eyeing a Kishaard working. She looked older than him, but appearances weren’t something he could rely on when it involved Kishaard.

At least the charms were still made in the same way, he noted when she coated the necklace with a few drops of blood.

“Whose blood is that?” Ishram asked, mouth still full.

The Kishaard didn’t even bother to turn. “Whoever wants something from us, has to return what they use. So it’s everyone’s. This one’s from a few months ago.” The Kishaard answered.

Ishram nodded. “And for special orders?” he pried, tilting his head to get a better look at her work. “What’s the charge?”

“You mean exclusively for your use? Dunno, ask Ross, she decides the deals here.”

Ishram nodded, absentmindedly. He opened his mouth to say something, but the door behind slammed open and Andrea came out, cutting him off.

The human looked tired, and disgust showed when his eyes fell on Ishram’s plate. “We’re going to the hotel. Ross says you still need to be here until tonight, since you’ve got all that stuff to read.”

Ishram shrugged. “Are you guys staying inside or do you plan on going out?”

“No, we eat inside the hotel. Ross suggested we lay low.”

Someone drew a loud breath in, someone else whistled. The young Kishaard working on the charms spoke without turning. “Someone’s running. Whatcha did? Stole the Pretender’s pets?”

Ishram frowned. “The who?”

“Ygran Maveek-araq, y’know? The so-called Emperor,” the Kishaard repeated. She stopped and turned towards them. “Where the hell have you guys been? He’s been on the throne for almost a thousand years now.”

Ishram’s jaw worked. Cold rage clawed at his thoughts. He pushed it away, before it could turn into anything else. “Why the nickname?” he blurted out.

“Stole the throne, didn’t deserve it. He’s a pretender and everyone knows it, even if they’re too scared to say it out loud.” The Kishaard’s sneer was sharp, mischief in her eyes flashed as she turned back to her work. “So, you running from him?”

“Do we look like we’re having this conversation?” Andrea asked.

Ishram scoffed.

“Well, as long as you keep your head down and don’t bring trouble to Ross, you won’t have a problem with us as well.”

“Who is us again? Everyone keeps saying it, but I’m yet to understand what who it refers to,” Andrea observed.

Ross came out of the office, together with Andrea’s parents. They all looked tired, when Ishram turned to check on them. “Alright, everyone, chat’s over. I need you all to move your asses and bring me some results before the end of times. I need new patrols of the area for the next eight days. Nobody gets in without me knowing it. You catch wind of a royal guard or hired muscles, you report to me and only me.”

The Kishaard in the room all stood up and crossed their wrists, pushing out until they locked away from their chests. The answer was creepily unison. “Iy, Adan!” they growled, getting out of the room.

Ishram massaged his temples. He hated being part of something bigger than him, but he couldn’t tell Ross to not recreate a network of spies in order to keep him and his family safe. “I’ll reach you tonight. You go rest,” he said to the humans, walking by his TV- computer desk, damn it.

Once they all left, it was him and Ross. Ishram knew well the look she gave him. She wasn’t happy he refused her help with his back. Quietly, he stood up and grabbed her wrist. Ross turned and raised an eyebrow. Now you want me around?, was as clear as the day on her face.

Ishram blinked and lowered his head. He knew she wanted to help, but he couldn’t put this too on her shoulders.

A sigh came from up above. “You think you can leave them alone for a few hours?”

She was joking, but Ishram wasn’t in the mood for it.

“Leave one of yours outside, just to be sure,” Ishram said. 

No, he needed to talk. He owed her this much at least. “Rajja.” He tightened his grip on her wrist. “I am grateful for everything you’ve done, and still do for me, but this isn’t about trust,” his voice came off in shreds, despite his attempts to keep it soft and reassuring. “I need someone I know will be able to handle me, if I snap,” he breathed. “I can’t. I can’t do any more harm. To any of you. Zjarr- she can-”

Ross cut him halfway, cupping his face with her hands. “I know.” Her voice spoke of hurt. The kind of hurt he was familiar with. Everyone had showed it, whenever they couldn’t help him. Ishram was used to it, to people feeling helpless and powerless in front of him. He had come to terms with it many times. “I just wish there was another way,” she whispered.

Ishram smiled, bitter. “Thanks,” he whispered. “This helps, too. All of you. You know I’m grateful to call you family.”

Ross returned the smile and hugged him. Ishram did the same. It was brief and hurried, because he had work to do, and it wasn’t about to end any time soon. Still, it left him more peaceful than before.

[:::]

Hours later, Ishram turned off the computer, eyes hurting and threatening to water for the rest of the day. His head hurt; he had a lot to process, and he still had things to do. What Ross kept for him wasn’t everything he needed to know, but it made do for good basics. Something he could work on.

Now, though, he had something far more important to know. He wanted to wait, originally; he knew he wouldn’t be able to leave any time soon, but he also wasn’t going to sleep properly until he knew. Something told him he’d lose sleep no matter what. It was always like this the first days.

Ross was still in her office when he knocked the door, humming some song Ishram didn’t know. The Kishaard’s dreadlocks were gathered in a ponytail now, leaving space for round reading glasses with a golden frame. The desk lamp cast a warm glow on her, making her skin almost turn gold at its edges. She was looking at some papers with troubled eyes when Ishram sat down and stretched his legs.

She still ignored him, so Ishram rested his feet on the other chair. A soft grunt escaped his throat when he let go of his head and let it hang on the chair’s seatback.

“Did you read everything?” Ross asked, not bothering looking up.

Ishram nodded. “Mh-hm.”

Silence fell once again. Ishram stared at the ceiling, unable to see what Ross was doing. 

They stayed like this, a fabricated quiet Ishram wore like an oversized piece of clothing. This time it was Ishram who didn’t bother to look down when he heard paper shifting, and Ross’ chair creaking. He could see her getting up in the corner of his eye, but he was too busy trying to articulate his question to speak. 

Ross did it for him. “I have... I have her file on that drawer. If you wanna keep it. I know you keep them all together, somewhere.” She offered it with somber eyes.

Ishram closed his eyes. He knew he needed time to mourn, but he had none. “Yeah. Amar has them,” he mumbled.

Ross snorted softly. “You two are such romantics.”

Ishram smiled, somewhat fond. “I know, it’s a shocker.” His voice was low, brittle, although he wanted to sound more sarcastic than that. He released the breath he’d been holding, deflating.

“Also, I made sure your room pointed towards the sea.”

Of course she did. “Thank you,” it was all Ishram could say at the moment.

Footsteps moved behind and away from him. Glass shifting and then liquid pouring. Ishram inhaled when the scent reached him. Alcohol, whiskey. Not the best kind.

“Here,” Ross offered. Ishram felt something cold against his knuckles and opened his hand until a glass fit within it. He grabbed it and brought it to his nose.

“What’s this?” He asked.

“Stuff from your sister’s pirate years, of course.” Ross chuckled.

Ishram peeked at her with one eye open. “It’s gonna be shit, then.”

“Well then, guess you and whiskey do have some in common.” 

They both laughed briefly, but then silence filled the room once again. Ishram sipped the whiskey, before going back to his ceiling-gazing. He pretended they had all the time of this world, that Ishram wasn’t here on borrowed time.

Ishram closed his eyes.

“Where’s she?” Ishram eventually asked. “Where’s Zjarr?”

The question came out quiet. Quieter than he would’ve liked, but there it was nonetheless. He knew Ross had heard it, because she exhaled, like she knew this was coming.

The time she took to answer wasn’t a good sign, either. Ishram knew better than to force an answer out of Ross.

Ross grunted. “Somewhere in the Rainforest. These days I only know where one of their rendezvous points are, but you’ll need to be fast to get to them. They change every goddamn time and I have no clue when she’ll update me.” She picked up something and whined. “And hopefully they won’t try to kill you, and get killed in the process.” Ross grimaced. “I sent her a message as soon as you contacted me, but she only gets online every- I have no idea. So I don’t know when or if she’ll read it any time soon.”

“From arresting to killing? Who is on her tail this time? And why is she being so... paranoid?” Ishram frowned. “I mean, more paranoid than the usual. This feels like, uh, overkill.”

“Yeah. Who knows who could put her on edge like this,” Ross hissed, clicking her tongue.

Ishram jerked on his chair and straightened up. “Why would he care about my sister? He wants me, not her.”

Ross was massaging her face thoroughly, as if the worry could go away if she pushed her eyeballs hard enough into her skull. “Listen. I can’t tell you what she won’t explain to me either. You’ll have to ask her yourself. I can only give you the coordinates and the means to reach her.”

Ishram nodded. Oh, he intended on asking Zjarr what the hell she’d been up to during this years. Especially to get in this much trouble. “Okay. Alright. Fuck, Zjarr, why can’t she just... I don’t know, relax? Buy an island and get a dog.”

Ross snorted. “Duh, because she’s Zjarr? Miss Extra McSavage?”

Ishram stared. Unsure. Something told him he was supposed to be laughing. “I... guess?”

Ross raised an eyebrow. “We need to work on your humor.”

Yeah, because that’s definitely a priority, Ishram thought.