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The Mother, The Sister, The Son	By : DrkVrtx Category: +S through Z > Soul Caliber Views: 7932 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Calibur, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Sin Without Shame

It was inevitable, really. Even though she now knew the truth, even though she knew the extent to which Tira had manipulated and twisted her life, without her, she was lost. She knew nothing of the world outside of what Tira had convinced her to be the truth. Everything was alien to her. She had never needed to provide for herself, as Tira had given her shelter, food and clothing. She had never at any point since her tenth birthday left their secret abode and returned without the blood of an innocent staining her hands. She had no friends, and outside of Tira, no family. But now...she had a brother.

Patroklos, strong and tall, had taken her from the grip of the malfested, evil woman who had crafted her entire life upon a lie. Her hands were soaked in blood and her soul was a cesspit. When Patroklos had told her the truth - the full truth which swallowed the half truths and subtle lies Tira had filled her mind with - she had pierced the night with a mournful cry and begged Patroklos to right the wrongs she had committed, pressing her sword upon him. But he had fallen to his knees with her, gathering her to him and through his own tears telling her that he had committed his own sins. They were equal, in all things.

It had taken his constant reassurance to see her through a dark period where she could not forgive herself. They had parted ways with the companions Patroklos had travelled with briefly in his search for her, making their own way - or rather his, for she knew not where to go. Many a time, she would wander from his company, distraught, her mind in turmoil save for the definite thought that she was not worthy for this world, that her sins must be paid for.

One night, he found her, kneeling beside the still waters of a small, tucked away pool, bathed in moonlight. Her shield was laid neatly at her side, her sword was held to her throat. The point of the blade gently pierced her skin; a single line of blood disappeared down into her shirt.

She had decided: this was the end. She could not bear to face tomorrow when so many men, women...so many children would never see the beauty of the sunrise again. It was over, and her dear brother could not stop her now. She was stronger than him; he tried to pull the sword away from her, but she would not relent. In the end, sobbing weakly like a child, he fell to his knees before her. She hadn't moved, she hadn't blinked or taken a breath, she merely continued to look up at the moonlit sky, offering her life to the gods.

"Pyrrha - oh Pyrrha, please...don't do this", Patroklos begged. She didn't answer. She couldn't; it hurt to talk, it tore her heart to tell a lie. She didn't deserve to live.

"Pyrrha, I need you", Patroklos said plainly, and quietly. "You are all I have left, Pyrrha...My life has been dedicated to seeking for you...You are my family. My sister. Pyrrha...I love you".

He did not wait for a response, instead he took the very blade of her sword in hand - and slowly drew it away from her throat. She let him. Looking down, she saw the blood running down his palm, his flesh sliced open. She took his hand into her own.

"Pyrrha...I can live with no one else, and I can't live by myself. I love you, so much".

His blood was warm upon her palm; she looked up at him slowly and found her eyes to be somewhat unfocused. His image wavered before her as a fog seemed to settle behind her eyes. A nauseating sensation was spreading through her body, burrowing into the pit of her stomach, chewing into her mind. He could see it happening, she knew, for a worried expression shaped his features.

"Pyrrha, what's wrong?"

"Patroklos", she whispered. Her tongue felt swollen and heavy, words and thoughts began to clog her throat. Her eyes rolled, and she knew she was about die. Something was spreading through her body, cold, clammy and clawing at the essence of her being. She muttered something unintelligible to her own ears, but her brother clearly understood.

He helped her to her feet, a supporting arm around her waist as he led her towards the pool of water. He was focused on getting her there, so much so that he didn't feel the subtle tremble that worried her stride for a moment. He didn't hear the slight gasp that escaped her. He didn't see her suddenly clutch her arm to her side, pushing it out of sight.

"Patroklos, quickly", she pleaded. Gritting her teeth, she forced the sensation spreading through her right arm away - but only for a moment. Pain pulsed through the limb with each step and Pyrrha hissed, a sound that gave her brother pause as he turned to her. He gave a start as he saw her eyes.

"No", Pyrrha begged, and she was startled by her own voice. It was warped almost to the point of non-recognition and Patroklos instinctively backed away, releasing her.

"Patroklos, no. I beg you. Please. I need you".

"Pyrrha? What...what are you?"

"Patroklos, please do not leave me now. Come into the water with me. Trust me. I beg you".

She felt him slipping. He was backing away from her now; her voice, her eyes, her arm - none of them belonged to her truly. But they were a part of her now.

Pyrrha stepped backwards with measured steps, walking down a natural slope into the cool water of the pool. She extended a hand towards him as she retreated into the pool; belatedly, she realised it was her right arm, which had twisted itself into a monstrous sight: a nightmarish talon-tipped claw lined with pulsing scarlet veins.

Eventually, she found herself in the centre of the small pool, the water soaking through her clothes and into her boots, drawing her into its embrace. Patroklos had not moved. His right hand clenched and unclenched. His throat seemed to pulse with a lifebeat of its own as he swallowed time and again.

She waited for him.

He came to her. She could see the effort it cost him. The first step was almost painful for him. She watched as he shed a past that had clung to his being like a parasite. She breathed at last as he entered the pool. He held her eyes as he approached. She could see his chest rising and falling. She could almost hear the beat of his heart in the silence of the night. She held her hand out to him.

He came before her, and she saw the hesitation in him before he placed his hand of flesh into her twisted claw. But she understood. Her heart inexplicably soared, and she felt her expression changing without her intent as something tugged gently at the corners of her lips. She understood what it was when she saw what she felt occur on Patroklos' face too.

She reached forward first, unbuttoning his cream-white shirt, and gradually, they began to undress each other. The cool night air upon her skin felt good as Patroklos slipped her dress from her shoulders. She wordlessly lifted her arms and he drew it over her head, leaving it to float alongside their shirts upon the water. She lowered her eyes to the water, and with both her natural and warped, monstrous claw, scooped the crystal clear liquid up. Patroklos lowered his head and the sound of water dripping into the pool filled the night as she tilted her hands over him. She closed her eyes as she bent her head forward.

Her body shuddered - violently - as the cool water ran down her hair and face. Before she could fathom it, she had lost all control of her body. She simply shook, as though the night possessed a biting cold and she had been left abandoned it. Something clean and pure and warm surged through her being, drawing like poison from a wound the corruption that was seeking to embed itself within her. Patroklos held her tightly to him, smothering her body's trembling with a strong embrace.

"Pyrrha..." he murmured into her ear. She lightly laid a hand on his chest and he loosened his embrace, allowing her to stand. She felt heat rising to her cheeks as she met his eyes; his skin was smooth and supple beneath her fingers, the firm strength of his chest interesting to the touch. She tried to speak, but instead, shyly cast her eyes down, though a smile curved her lips. She felt light and warm, and her smile only widened as she scooped water into her natural right hand, pouring it onto Patroklos' shoulder.

He followed after her lead, beginning with her arms. Heat began to warm her wholly at his administrations, and her breaths became light and easy. His hands slid down the length of her arms, reaching to her very fingertips, interlocking with her hands for a moment before dropping quietly to the water below. Water slipped through his fingers as he brought his hands to her chest. She closed her eyes as the cool liquid splashed upon her breasts and Patroklos' hands moulded themselves to their shape.

"Patroklos..." she breathed softly, drawing closer to him and exploring the contours of his back. Eyes closed, she giggled as she felt water pouring over her head. She felt free, at last. Patroklos' fingers slowly trailed through her wet locks, combing through them until he reached the tips, and then he dropped his hands to her shoulders, following the curve of her body up to her neck. She found herself breathing a little more quickly, anticipating something as she traced the contours of Patroklos' body, her hands sliding to his hips.

Tilting her face up slightly as Patroklos' hands reached her jaw, Pyrrha pulled him into her and pressed herself against him, enjoying his warmth intermingled with the cool water upon his skin. His mouth was suddenly the only thing in the world she needed, the only thing upon which she could focus. Hunger for his lips stirred deeply in her bowels.

They joined lips at last. He was soft and warm and sweet, and immediately, she was addicted to him. They shared several chaste kisses and something stole over them, something rooted deep within their beings, an undeniable instinct that would serve as their greatest mentor.

Pyrrha felt no shame as her brother's hands fell to her chest, cupping her breasts. Heat flowed through her as their kiss became fuelled with intensity, becoming deeper and fuller as their tongues met, a hunger driving them to explore the moist warmth of the other's mouth. Pyrrha consciously knew nothing of the male form, but her hands were quickly travelling south. Patroklos was pressed against her and there was an inexplicable ache that seemed to emanate from between her legs. She slipped her hands into his breeches, eager to find what it was that was pressing against her body, long and hard.

She gasped into their kiss as his fingers found her nipples, pinching hard. The potent mixture of sharp pain and pleasure stirred her arousal. She found it, the part of him that stirred her curiosity so, and fiercely, she dragged his breeches down his thighs to expose it. Just as she had gasped, Patroklos moaned as she took him in hand. Her curiosity was a fire burning through her being and suddenly, an inexperienced younger brother was completely under her control. The moment she heard - and felt - him groan, some instinct within her awoke, taking the reins of the moment.

Patroklos seemed to grasp her breasts for dear life as Pyrrha stroked the length of him, intrigued by this long, hard organ which seemed to be connected to her brother's body. It seemed to throb ever so slightly in her grip, and she quickly found that circling her hand around the top of it drew sharp gasps and grunts from him. She grinned into their kiss, suckling upon his tongue. But yet still, the ache between her legs remained - if anything, it had intensified. She heard her name groaned, and felt her brother's hands plunge beneath the water and push between her thighs. It was her turn to gasp.

Their lips met clumsily as they flooded each other's inexperienced body with pleasure. Her brother's fingers pumped into her and it felt unbelievable. She didn't understand why it should feel so, but right now, she was beyond rationalising it, she was beyond caring. All that mattered was that she bring her sweet brother the same pleasure that was building within her.

Suddenly, the intensity of the sensation exploded within her, so much so that she almost choked on her brother's name as she gasped. Her hands were moving on their own, stroking Patroklos' length almost furiously. Her brother's administrations were bringing about a sensation within her that felt as though it was going to split her in two. Sounds were coming deep from her throat that she couldn't recall intending to make and her legs were beginning to buckle.

A shout; Patroklos groaned loudly into the night, and Pyrrha joined him with her own cry of pleasure. A harmonious song that breathed the beginnings of the siblings' future.

They came down gradually from that wonderful high; Patroklos slowly withdrew his fingers from Pyrrha as she extracted herself from his breeches. Both gazed with curiosity and fascination at their hands for a long moment, smiling shyly at one another as they then dipped their hands into the water, helping each other to clean up. A soft, chaste kiss was shared before the siblings drew each other into strong embrace.

"Pyrrha, I'm so sorry..."

"Patroklos, let's put it behind us. Let's start again, just you and I...I love you".

They met eyes once more, sharing happiness and a promise. Pyrrha lifted a hand to her brother's cheek and drew his lips to hers once more. There was no one else who could understand her, no one else with who she could spend her life. And so, she felt no shame as she kissed her dear brother beneath the blessing of the stars.
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The Mother, The Sister, The Son