"You want something?"
Millea's voice rang out through the sparsely-decorated house. It wasn't much to look at, really, Millea never did have a taste for fine living. She had always leaned toward what was practical. Near everything was in dark greys or black, the few decorations she did own hadn't seen any dusting in decades. Lillian sighed, trailing a finger along a dark counter-top as she moved deeper into the home, a glossy black line in a sea of dust.
"Polite company would offer a greeting before questioning the nature of a visit," Lillian said, pausing at the entry to what she assumed must be a living area. It appeared to be more a collection of junk spread across the floor, books and bits of metal. A small space in the corner where Millea possibly sat from time to time. Millea herself was crouched among the junk, assembling pieces of---goodness knew what. Evidently it wasn't working for her, and the parts tossed to the ground in frustration before she lifted her vibrant gold eyes to Lillian and stood up.
"Polite company wouldn't barge in uninvited," Millea countered, crossing her arms. "Besides. I don't much care to know how you are. I certainly don't intend to welcome you into my home. So why are you here, what do you want, and how can I get you to leave?"
Lillian closed her eyes a moment, taking a breath to steady herself against her sister's abrasive retorts.
"I had a message for you," she said. "I tried sending you a letter."
"I got it," Millea shrugged. "I got all of them."
"And?" Lillian leaned forward.
"You never replied," Lillian's frown deepened. "Not to a single one."
"I didn't want to," Millea picked her way back through the clutter of junk on the floor, lifting up a pile of dusty envelopes and extending it toward Lillian. "Did you come to fetch them back?"
"No, I came for your answer," crossing her own arms, Lillian simply stared at the bundle of letters. None of them were opened. When it was clear that Lillian would not take them, Millea let them drop onto the floor.
"Not interested. Are you satisfied yet?" Millea raised an eyebrow.
"How can you know you're not interested when you've not even bothered to read them!" Lillian snapped. Millea had a gift for irritating her. It had always been so, though more recently it had become more troublesome as the rift between the sisters widened and grew more bitter. "I have a son, Lea. He means to take his acceptance. I hoped you would help."
"You hoped wrong, Lian." Millea watched as Lillian's expression shifted from irritation to despair. "You didn't go and promise them that I would come to help, did you?"
"No," Lillian murmured back. "Only that I was still trying to find you."
"Ah, truthful as always," Millea barked a sour laugh. "And not one of them thought it odd that you, my twin, had misplaced me? In all these centuries have you ever not known precisely where to find me? Would that you could not know. You only make use of the information when you want something,"
"And you make use of it not at all," Lillian's retort came with some hurt. Millea only laughed.
"Knowing where you are is not the same as wishing to be around you," she said smoothly. "Congratulations on the family you wanted so terribly. You can leave now."
"Lea, he means to make use of Xavi!" the name was enough to get Millea's attention. Lillian knew it would be. She'd hoped not to have to use it. Though briefly off-balance, Millea caught herself well, and tried to shrug off the information.
"Not while Thia breathes, I imagine."
"From what I understand, it's Thia's idea," Lillian swallowed. Millea's expression only darkened further.
"Is it? Or is it some design of your making, so complex your players believe they have the ideas of their own volition?" the words hissed out of her mouth. "First Neurie then Nharae, now Xavi too? And you would have this done, what----with Thia and myself also in attendance? I am not the fool you think, Lian. Your workings have the stench of a family reunion. I'll have none of it."
"So you would have my son die, then?"
"That is the natural way of it, yes,"
"And what of the barrier, Lea? You will ignore and let that perish too?"
"Yes, Lian," Millea threw up her hands in frustration. "It is beyond time that happened."
"Without that barrier, it will be only days before it is found," Lillian wanted to shake her sister. She had a feeling Millea felt much the same. "We gave them protection that they might survive, now you mean to take that from them?"
"They did not need our protection. We intervened, we should not have," Millea tried to keep her tone calm. "Enough survived without us. Thrived without us. All we did is section them off from the world, and disallowed them the chance to progress with it. For what, Lian? So you could feel in your rightful place in guiding them? Even that did not satisfy you. You had to be among them. One of them."
"Why is that so terrible?"
"Because it is not our place, Lian," Millea sighed. "Even now you talk about your son, your legacies, as if they have some right to your power. What is it you aim for here, Lian? To build us a thousand-strong? We do not belong here. You mixed your blood with theirs and doomed them to a life unknown. You seek to reunite the six bloods, you cling desperately to a piece of land where your name and purpose is known and I ask you sister, what for? Surely you knew that there was never a place for us here? Our existence is against the natural law. Yet everything you do, you move to create what was left behind."
"And wasting a life to find the way back is less foolish?" Lillian gestured to the junk and books across the floor. "This is our home now. It has been for centuries, it must continue to be. We left with reason, Lea, there is nothing to go back to."
"Then you are determined, Lian? You will not cease your reckless assault on the balance of this world?"
"I will do what must be done to find our place here, Lea," Lillian murmured. "You are similarly determined to return to what was lost long ago?"
"I am," Millea replied firmly. "And we remain at an impasse."
"I had hoped some years would put sense into you," Lillian frowned.
"I had hoped the same of you," Millea shrugged. The fight was gone from both of them. Lillian looked away, though her expression would only betray what her mind already had. What she knew of Millea's mind also. Their goals had driven them apart, but their souls longed for the days where they had worked as one. She missed Millea, and knew Millea missed her as much. But neither would be commanded by that feeling, and held steadfast to their paths.
Lillian turned, and began the quiet walk back to the door.
"I hope your son survives," Millea called after her. Lillian paused, and looked back.
"Me too," she said while fading out. "Me too."