Markus
The baths in this section of the palace were only used by the men of the clan Kokabel, which there was only three – King Antonius and his two sons, Markus and Alexandros.
And as it would so happen, all three were there tonight.
As Markus stormed into the room he was met with the sight of his brother, Alexandros, younger than him by nine months, sitting off in his white marble tub. In a larger adjoining room was their father, the King, lazily swishing his cloth around in the massive pool there, humming loudly to himself.
Upon Markus’s arrival, the King’s face lit up, splitting in half with an excited grin. “Markus!” He exclaimed in a voice that echoed around the chamber, the older man sitting up a little straighter in the water when Markus stopped where he was and gave a short, curt bow to him in a show of respect. Antonius' smile widened.
The smile only added to the King’s signature youthful appearance, which even in a family that married and had children exceptionally young, was a little off putting for Markus. He didn’t look that much older than Markus himself, who at nearly sixteen, somehow seemed as old as his Father, who was supposedly somewhere in his thirties – though just where in his thirties, Markus was not sure.
The timeline right after the Keepers War, a recent war that had only ended several years ago, was all very fuzzy and no one in the Kingdom of Kokabel wanted to talk about it, instead preferring to pretend that those ten years of war hadn’t occurred at all. It was actually quite humorous, the lengths people went trying to avoid talking about it, if you weren’t trying to get answers. And as Markus' family all danced around giving any answers, he tried to avoid asking any questions that involved those ten years, as they would only lead to frustration.
Still, there was something very odd about his father’s appearance. He had the same purple eyes, same slightly wavy brown hair and olive completion as everyone else in the clan, but there was something decidedly off about his appearance to Markus, just one of many decidedly off things that Markus couldn’t figure out.
But Markus' entire life felt off, like everything in the world had been moved just a few inches to the left without him knowing and he was left standing there, trying to figure out why it didn't look right.
And seeing as it didn't seem right that everything else in the world was wrong besides himself, Markus would frequently do mental cartwheels to find a logical reason as to why things were the way they were - because, surely, he must have been the one wrong.
And if he couldn't find any logic of reason even after the mental cartwheels...well, then he would just avoid them completely.
His father's youthful appearance, for example. Markus supposed that the other's lack of more mature appearances might have to do with the fact that his father had never seen a fight in his life, let alone participated in one. There had been no spare to the heir as back up in case Antonius was injured, so as a child, he had not been allowed out of the palace to fight in his youth. That was a task given to Antonius' eldest sister, Cydonia. As a daughter, one of hundreds of the King, she was far more disposable than the only son, the sacred cow that would carry on the family line and earned his soul by default upon ascending the throne - without any other heir, he did not need to earn his place or soul. And because there was no other heir, Markus' father was over protected.
For, in the clan of Kokabel, only the sons of Kokabel could pass on their bloodline. Though the daughters had all the traits and abilities, the children of the daughters were born as regular witches without a drop of Kokabel’s blood, unless the father of their children met a special requirement.
This was the result of a curse, and as was the rule with curses; whatever you gave you got back threefold. Long ago a woman of their clan cursed another sacred clan, that of Gadreel, so that their daughters would not have any children with Gadreel’s blood. The curse came back to her with the added curse of women not being able to form any of the sacred covenants, the most precious gift of all possessed by the sacred clans, the thing that truly set them apart from all other witches. While some witches of no bloodline could be born with great power, none would ever be able to form any of the three sacred covenants.
His Father raised a perfectly un-calloused hand toward him in greeting, waving him over. “Come join me in the bath, son! We have much to converse about!” The movement from his wave made the rings hanging around his neck glitter, the two tiered necklace weighed down by over thirty unique rings on each of the two golden chains. Last count, there was as together sixty one, a ring for each of the King’s daughters born by various women. None were from the King’s wife, who had bore him his only two sons, but this was expected.
“I need to rinse off first.” Markus replied automatically, his father shooting back a whiney ‘Why?’ To which Markus replied with an unusually terse “Because I want to crawl out of my skin.”
TAPTAPTAPTAP
Markus shuttered.
“What else is new?” His brother remarked from where he was lounging in a large basin filled with flowery scented oils. When he wasn’t following on their mother’s heel or harassing their sisters, this was where Alexandros was found. Soaking. Sipping wine. Bemoaning.
Markus swiftly pulled out his sword and struck it against his brother’s basin as he passed it, shattering the marble and sending his brother sliding out and across the floor, right into the round cold-water basin sunken into the floor at the center of the room. His brother screeched upon resurfacing and cursed at him until he was blue in the face, screaming for their Father to do something about his insolence.
At that, Antonius simply covered his face with his cloth and sunk down in the steaming water of his own pool until only his nose hovered above the water. He waited there as he listened to Alexandros’s yelling, not particularly motivated to intervene. Nothing would come of Alexandros' complaints, anyway. Alexandros was smart. He wouldn’t go after his brother, knowing very well that Markus would destroy him in a second.
Markus, after all, had very low tolerance for people that attacked him and it was thought that he would not spare his brother if he went after him - though Markus knew this wasn't true. He would never kill his brother and highly doubted that he could so much as hurt the other - but he would defend himself. Probably.
Both sons knew the King wouldn’t raise a hand to his eldest son either. Though the former king had happily inflicted many levels of pain onto Markus, Antonius was wary of even using cross words with his eldest.
Parricide was the first and foremost cause of death in their family. It had been too many generations to count since a King hadn’t been killed by one of his daughters, though Antonius was eager to see that this wasn’t the case with him and babied every one of his own daughters in the hopes of avoiding that fate. His sons as well enjoyed an easier relationship with him because of this fear, though it often led to conflict between brothers.
Alexandros did not enjoy the fact that Antonius open showed more affection to Markus, and Markus didn't particularly like the fact that Alexandros so easily got to avoid having to earn his place on the battlefield.
The eldest son stomped out of the room and entered the next one, where steam bellowed out through the open doorway and completely obscured the sunked bath and endless stream of water within.
TAPTAPTAPTAP
Markus went straight to the center of the room and settled there, under where heated ocean water poured from the ceiling, coming directly from the nearby ocean and heated by an indistinguishable flame somewhere between here and there. The water was boiling, but high temperatures were hardly felt by the children of Kokabel, their gift of invulnerability giving them thick skin nearly completely resistant to anything cooler than liquid earth or a direct lightning strike.
TAPTAPTAPTAP
He stripped as he stood under it, dropping his armor and tunic to let it sit under the water to rinse it off as well, scrubbing away at his skin with a cloth that hung on the wall until his skin was raw and fresh feeling.
There were few known things that could leave a mark on the skin of a child of Kokabel - the force of another child of Kokabel with their incredible strength, dragon venom, and the claws of a nyx. Everything else was nearly worthless against their flesh thanks to Kokabel's family gift of invulnerability.
But Markus was strong, very strong, and was able to scrub through his invulnerability and leave his skin tender and pink - all of it. Only then he was able to relax, the nerve-wracking tapping fading away.
He left his armor there on the steam room floor for someone else to collect and padded back to where his father was blowing bubbles in the water. Without hesitation, he sunk into the warm water on the opposite side of his father, the tub large enough to fit over forty-something individuals without any of them touching.
Alexandros joined them a moment later looked mildly annoyed, settling somewhere between the two with a scowl. He looked to his brother with the intent to say something, but was silenced when Antonius rose back out of the water to sit against the tub with a smile.
A long stretch of silence passed, the King looking between his two sons with a tight, playful smile. “You know, Alexandros," He started, "You should really think about getting out in the sun more.”
His second son turned his annoyed gaze to him. “What was that, Father?” His voice edged on irritated, but he didn’t let it completely ink into his tone. That would be disrespectful, and respect was always to be paid to your Father in the clan of Kokabel. Especially when you had yet to earn your soul, especially when you weren't firstborn - but most importantly, especially if it was to his face.
“Sun!” Antonius replied. “That is how your brother got to how he is while you are as you are...so...pale.” He motioned to Markus with an open hand. “When you two are together such as you are now…” He pursed his lips and his younger son gave him a wide-eyed look of unspoken warning, daring him to continue. “People think you look sickly – not me!” The king added quickly, holding up a hand in defense, “-but…people. Many people. I get stopped in the street and asked why my second son, always standing inside the palace gates, looks near death. They call him a ghost. It's very mortifying for me to have to explain that you are perfectly healthy. I flush in embaressment like a virgin every time.”
The youngest scowled and glared at Markus, who seemed to be ignoring the conversation completely in favor of staring at the mosaic on the ceiling. The eldest could be found doing this often - count the tiles on the ceilings until whatever uncomfortable conversation had moved on to something less tiring. It was how Markus dealt with stressful situations. He disengaged. The second son then looked back to his father. “This is not a conversation I want to have in the bath, Father.” Alexandros grounded out.
“The bath is exactly where conversations like this need to be had!” Antonius argued, “Without women around to hear, we can speak freely as men.! The King said eagerly, looking between his sons. "And we so rarely get to be alone, just the three of us, to have these very, very, very important conversations."
Both looked back at him with suspicion. Their father loved to talk – loved to hear the sound of his own voice – but serious subjects were not something he ever enjoyed. While their father famously had no respect for personal boundaries, he was very squeamish when it came to anything that couldn’t be considered fun. And speaking freely without a chirping, squealing daughter hanging off of one of his arms?
Unheard of.
Antonius opened his mouth to say something but decided against it after a single squeaked syllable, ducking his head below the water to resurface after a long moment, sweeping his hair back again his head then. His smile was back, but his gaze was not on either of his sons.
Instead, it was on the ceiling where Markus had just been staring. He sat there in the water for a long time in silence, simply smiling and blinking. Finally, he spoke. “Speaking of conversations for the ears of men only, I was reminded by a wonderful local woman of what a lovely season summer is for weddings-” Both his sons dropped below the water and the King cursed. “Now really - Boys! - we need to have this conversation!”
The pair of brothers stayed under the water for as long as they could, glaring first in the direction of their father, then at each other in challenge, neither willing to be the first to resurface to face the King. Though Alexandros gave Markus a pointed look, as if to remind him that he was in fact the eldest and should man up to the task, Markus wouldn’t budge.
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