KANE DIDN'T HAVE a good reason to go to war.

He wasn't altruistic enough to claim that he was accepting his destiny in order to save his dying world. Shit, a tiny part of him even agreed with Queen Mab. Although, he'd never tell Silver that.

Humans had done so much damage to the earth in their pursuit to satisfy their greed. Seeing how well the fae cared for and respected nature had him thinking. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to bequeath his world to them...

Kane fiddled with his dark pants and fitted shirt, conflicted. Arthur was the definition of a true and loyal hero right until the bitter end. Arthur wouldn't even need a reason to go to war against Queen Mab and her death banshee. He would simply do it because it was the right thing to do. Because lives hung in the balance and he held the power to make a difference.

All the stories Silver read to him had said so.

Kane couldn't comprehend how he could be the Once and Future King yet be so different in this life.

If his grandma were alive then things would've been different. He'd go to war for her any day. But now that she was gone, what did that leave him with?

A mother with too many mental issues to count. A father he hadn't seen in years. Aunts and uncles he only saw on holidays where it was required to pretend they were the perfect family. He loved his cousins but they lost touch as adulthood pulled them in separate directions.

Kane had no friends. The curse always drove them away with a string of bad luck. He pushed all of his lovers away whenever an odd feeling to immediately start a family overcame him.

Kane didn't know what he was fighting for and that bothered him.

And yet, he also didn't mind. He'd rather fight in a war he might not survive instead of sitting at home and waiting to die.

"Can you braid your hair for me?" Silver asked, pulling Kane out of his dark thoughts. "I'd do it myself but we're not a couple so..." Silver shrugged. "Can't."

Kane plaited his hair into a tight Dutch braid, leaving two sections to frame his face as requested. Silver wrapped silver coils around each section, securing the ends with dazzling emeralds.

"So, saying thanks is rude because it implies that you now owe people something." Kane stood still while Silver fastened the first set of armor over her wide shoulders. "And braiding hair is for couples only?"

Silver hummed, covering Kane's large forearms with thick vambraces. All of his armor had to be specially tailored because the people of the fae weren't big like he was.

"Arms." Kane obeyed and Silver slid the breastplate over his chest. It was a tight fit, almost squashing his man tiddies in the process. "Hair is very special for us. We never cut it unless we've been shamed or are in mourning. Braiding itself is a very... intimate thing to share with someone. I would go as far as equating it to making love."

Silver draped a brown leather belt around his waist with a loop hanging against his waist snugly. The long scabbard hung limply until Silver slipped Caliburn inside. Armor covered Kane from the waist down, all the way to his flat silver shoes. Silver explained what each of them were but Kane didn't bother to remember any of their names.

His mind went back to daydreaming only this time he thought of his grandma. He remembered nights spent stargazing before the clock struck midnight. He tasted misty mornings spent by the sea back when her health permitted the long drive. He smelled earl gray tea and lavender perfume.

Kane's fingers twitched. For a moment it was as if he was touching her hands again. They were wrinkled with age. Weak from cancer. Yet even in her dying days they were as he always remembered them to be. Covered in black charcoal from long hours spent drawing during quiet afternoons.

Kane didn't cry but for the first time since he heard of her passing, he felt something besides numbness. There was a sudden ache in his heart that he didn't know what to do with.

"Alright. We're done," Silver said, slipping back into Kane's line of sight fully dressed and battle ready. "Let's go."

Kane swallowed thickly, taking in the stone walls and floor. The twin bed they took turns sleeping on was messy. White pillows laid on the ground in a makeshift bed. An embroidered red rug remained in the center of the room and wooden furniture lined the walls.

It was a small room to begin with but now that it was time to leave it suddenly felt much smaller.

"Breathe." Silver clasped Kane's shoulder. The weight was comforting, like an anchor he didn't know he needed until now. "I know going into battle sounds scary but Tempest and I won't let you die. We just need to see how you handle a real fight, that's all."

"I'm gonna run," Kane admitted without shame. "I'm probably gonna scream too." He paused then made a face once he replayed Silver's words. "I also don't think Tempst is gonna bend over backwards to do me any favors."

Silver laughed and it felt mean even though Kane was sure that wasn't his intent. "Running is fine. So is screaming. And Tempest is a hard ass but she isn't gonna let you die. Neither will I."

"Because I'm the only chance you guys have of getting Odette back." Kane didn't mean to say that. But sometimes words tumbled out and he couldn't stop them in time. "Sorry."

Silver shook his head. "Don't be. You're partially correct, anyway."

Kane deflated. "Right..."

"I meant on Tempest's behalf," Silver explained, flicking his forehead. "I happen to enjoy your company. You're very amusing, after all. I'd be a bit sad if you died so soon. So prophecy or no prophecy, I feel inclined to keep you alive."

"Gee, thanks."

"Plus, after Tempest's mini lesson yesterday, I think you'll do better than you think." Silver led Kane through the long hallways. "You were certainly a lot quicker with your reflexes this morning so that's good."

Kane's face scrunched up, a mix of confusion and indignation. "She didn't teach me anything! She just kicked my ass and left!"

Silver chuckled. "Experience is the best teacher. Tempest was always better at getting that point across than I was. You'll understand one day."

"I most certainly will not understand one day." Kane said in a snippy tone, ignoring Silver's signature cackling. "And don't think I don't know you're trying to make me forget about Death coming to visit. I still wanna know what you guys talked about."

"Does the word privacy mean anything to you?"

"Does the word we-made-a-fucking-deal-for-knowledge mean anything to you?" Kane sassed back.

Silver clucked his tongue. "First of all, that's not even one word."

"Irrelevant."

"Second of all," Silver gazed at Kane playfully, "my personal affairs weren't included in our deal."

"I disagree."

Silver paused outside Tempest's door, eyeing Kane curiously. "Explain."

"I traded my loyalty for knowledge. I didn't specify what kind of knowledge, right? So that leaves it open to anything," Kane replied. "The conversation you had with Death is knowledge that I don't have. So I can ask and, contractually, you're obligated to tell me."

Silver crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. The corner of his mouth twitched. Then it twisted into a smug smirk. "Well done."

Kane's eyes lit up with glee. "I'm right? You'll really tell me?"

"Yeah." Silver's smirk widened. "Later."

"I hate you," Kane hissed as the fae knocked on the wooden door. "You're so annoying."

The door swung open to reveal Tempest in all her silver glory, ending their conversation. She waved them in. Kane's gaze immediately fell upon the mirror. Tempest touched the surface. The pastel colors melted away to reveal skeleton trees, bare and frozen with frost. The sky held no stars. Only the moonlight illuminated the dark forest.

Silver grabbed Kane's wrist, tugging him through the mirror after Tempest. This time the trip was quick and easy. He let out small breaths into the crisp auburn night. Foggy puffs danced before him like forgotten ghosts before vanishing.

"Follow me."

Silver didn't let him go and for that Kane was grateful. He didn't think he would've lasted if he had to walk on his own, enduring the many eyes that clung to him like molasses.

For Tempest they bowed. She acknowledged them with a silent tilt of the head. For Silver they parted as if he was diseased. The older man never paused in his confident stride. For Kane they stared, curious and analytical. Kane gulped, feeling inferior.

They stopped when they reached the front line. Kane glared at Tempest, befuddled. "Why are we at the front?"

Tempest regarded him coolly, not a drop of fear in her darkness imbued eyes. "To fight."

An ear splitting howl ripped through the night. Kane trembled. Tempest turned to the blond man beside her, whispering. Cerulean eyes scanned Kane's shaking body, unimpressed.

"What do I call you?" the fox-like man asked, unphased by the flurry of feet pounding against the earth.

"Pendragon," Tempest said before Kane could say his name. "Nothing more, nothing less."

The blond tilted his head to the side, murmuring a low, "As you wish, Lady Tempest."

A breath of wind blew over Kane. Putrid aromas infiltrated his senses. He gagged, pressing a fist over his nose.

"Death," Silver whispered as he drew Arian. "You're smelling blood and death."

Kane choked on the withering air decaying on his tongue. This was madness.

"Do you remember what I told you about werewolves?" Kane nodded, eyeing the line of trees across from them as yipping and growls joined the howling. "We're here to fight rogue lycans, their cousins. Lycans are much bigger, more feral, and far more bloodthirsty than werewolves."

"Fantastic," Kane muttered. His hand shook when he drew Caliburn. Whispers erupted from the warriors behind him. "And why are we fighting them?"

"They passed into Hiraeth and slaughtered fae children," Tempest replied. Her voice was frigid. Tough. "This is the last batch left to dispose of."

A heap of darkness barrelled into the open field. Kane froze, watching the mass of fur and beady red eyes descend upon them. Ghastly horsemen carrying heads in the crook of their arms followed behind. The headless riders charged in on skeleton horses as they whipped the air with spines?!

"Dullahan?" Silver stepped forward to peer at Tempest. "I thought this was just a lycan battle?"

Tempest eyed the gaping man beside her. "Fox, what is this?"

Fox shook his head, drawing two long spears and signaling his warriors to get ready. "I have no clue. We've only encountered lycans until now. Queen Mab hasn't sent the dullahan out in a long time."

Tempest wavered then nodded, meeting Silver's eyes. Something silent passed between them. The older fae frowned but stepped back and leaned towards Kane.

"Avoid the dullahan," he advised. "To kill a lycan you have to cut the head off. Stab them, get them to the ground, then decapitate them quickly. Avoid their claws."

Kane bounced on the balls of his feet. "Stab, ground, decapitate."

He repeated it like a mantra as a flood of large, hairy beasts raced towards them. Drool dripped down their jaws. The monsters ran upright. Their ribs poked against the taut grayness of their stretched skin. Charcoal black claws glinted under the moonlight.

Fox raced forward, meeting the first lycan with no one to aid him. The beast howled when the fae forced the pointed spear through its chest. He spun to avoid the swiping claws, slitting the lycans throat with his second spear. Fox reached behind, pulling the head backwards and yanking it off in one clean motion. Crimson sprayed his hair. The army charged forward.

Kane's shrieking was swallowed up by the booming battle cries of the other fae. Adrenaline propelled him forward. Fear pushed him behind Silver. The fae intercepted a lycan mid swipe, slashing its stomach and exposing its organs. Kane gagged, choking as the scent of rotten eggs permeated the air.

"Now!"

Kane plunged Caliburn into the lycan's heart. The feral growl the beast let out held him frozen. Tempest grasped the back of his neck, jerking him backwards to avoid the claws about to slash his face. Clarent sliced the lycan's head off and Tempest pushed him deeper into the battle.

Kane's stomach rolled like a sea of tumultuous waves as the process repeated. Silver wounded a lycan, Kane stabbed it in the heart, then Tempest finished it off. On the side both warriors fought separate battles while aiding Kane with his.

Distracted, a discarded limb caught his ankle. Kane yelped as he crashed to the ground. Dirt filled his mouth. He spat it out, rubbing his head with a groan. There was blood. Kane clenched his teeth, prying out the long claw embedded into his skin. When he looked up he froze, mouth wide open in a paralyzing scream.

Rancid puffs of breath washed over him. The jaw of a lycan was poised over his head to take a chomp. It snarled. Kane screeched right into the predator's mouth. Panic consumed him. He reacted on instinct alone, recalling Tempest's moves in the midst of his terror and whimpers.

Kane swept its legs. He scrambled forward to thrust Caliburn into its chest. With both hands wrapped around the hilt, light emerged from the sword, burning the lycan to a crisp. Kane collapsed, smearing its hot ashes against his cheek.

That was his first real kill.

A hand hauled Kane to his feet, spinning him away from danger as another deadly swipe grazed his braid. Following Tempest's lead, Kane ducked to avoid Clarent's broad slash, cutting the lycan's arm off. He tripped the beast. She decapitated it.

The siblings worked together flawlessly, never sparing each other so much as a glance. They kept the larger lycans away from Kane as well as the laughing dullahan. Working as one being, they lead Kane deeper into the fight as the enemy's numbers dwindled.

Kane stumbled. Tempest took steady steps. Her agile form battled ferociously, eyes darting everywhere, aware of all that occurred. Where Silver shouted orders for Kane to follow, Tempest never spoke. Instead she guided him silently, years of experience backing up her skilled performance.

A quick, rhythmic jazz song played in his head. An old memory. Armor clashed upon armor. Canines scraped against the tough metal. It was body upon body as they twirled. Alert to the foxtrot of death's dance while Kane copied Tempest's moves with less finesse.

The fear never went away even as the dance ended when the battleground went quiet. Kane fell to his knees, panting. He couldn't get enough air in his lungs no matter how hard he breathed.

Silver yanked Arian from the last lycan, appraising Kane with a pleased smile. "Well done."

The scent of death slithered down Kane's throat. He appreciated the praise. Yet he couldn't help his gaze from sliding towards Tempest, the stricter teacher of the two.

Her chest rose and fell in even breaths. Gore sullied her armor. When their eyes met her dark stare slipped over Kane like silk. Even as she departed to speak to Fox her words continued to ring in Kane's ears as he leaned over to vomit.

Much better.

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QOTD: What are your thoughts on Kane's first battle and how the trio worked together? What do you think Death had to say to Silver in secret?