When they came to, Sarkiin could vaguely recall the worst nightmare they'd had in their memory: Elata capturing Saryam; stringing Sarkiin along on an embarassing stroll through town; revealing that she had somehow stolen Sarmene's identity; high-fiving the floor with their face. This dream was particularly weird, though, in that it became clearer, more tangible as Sarkiin thought of it.
Kinda like how memories did.
Shit.
Finally, they realized that the space they were in was completely unfamiliar. They sat straight up, and immediately regretted exascerbating the dizziness and dull throbbing in their head. A few breaths later, they took stock of their surroundings.
Some sort of warehouse. A computer with a few monitors and a rolling chair near the middle of the room. A few bags piled near the cot Sarkiin sat on. And their sisters, sitting to either side.
Even seeing the two right before their eyes, Sarkiin could hardly believe it. Maybe they'd hit their head harder than they thought. Maybe they died and heaven was real after all and somehow they'd been given a pass. They weren't gonna question it.
Sarkiin turned to the right and squeezed Sarmene as hard as they could. "Where the hell have you been, you jag?" they sobbed into their sister's shoulder.
Sarmene was silent a moment too long, allowing Saryam to reveal just how thin their normally cosmic patience had been worn, "So you know this person?" Her voice was too calm. Sarkiin would have been a bit frightened if not for how happy they were to see Sarmene again. "I guess it makes sense. You do look a lot like us. Can you explain now?"
"You sure you don't wanna do this over lunch?" Sarmene replied. Their was humor in their tone, but Sarkiin could also feel her tears on their shoulder. "I thought I'd take y'all to that noodle shop around the corner."
Sarkiin pulled back, their hands on Sarmene's shoulders. They turned to see Saryam still wearing that same expression as when she opened the door. Maybe she was stuck. "I wanted to tell you. I've been trying to figure out how all week." It was almost a plea. They hoped the apology was apparent.
Then they turned to Sarmene again, "But how are you alive? We buried you at the bottom of the mountain!"
Sarmene just paused again. Her brows furrowed, and the crease they made on her forehead was just like Dad's. She looked conflicted, a little uncertain.
"The truth is, I've been pretty close to you dozens of times over the years. Close enough to touch, even."
"As much as I enjoy the dramatic touch, maybe start with a name." The words cut through Sarkiin's elation like a chainsaw.
At this, Sarmene looked confused and almost hurt. She looked to Sarkiin, "What exactly have you told her about me?"
"Definitely not your name. If you please..."
"Right. I'm Sarmene!"
The expectant look on her face pulverized Sarkiin's heart, leaving only wet, sticky mush in its place. Saryam would not know the name. Neither she nor T'fas had spoken of her openly since the burial.
But as they peered into Saryam's face, still pleading at the back of their mind, Sarkiin could see the faintest hint of recognition on Saryam's face, then it was gone.
Sarmene, having only met Saryam a handful of times as a baby, had not been as well-studied in the secret language of her sister's face. She read the silence as Sarkiin expected she would. "I'm your older sister," she said as she leveled a confused look at the middle child.
"T'fas decided it would be best if we don't mention you until Elata dies," Sarkiin confessed. They remembered the glaive resting on the floor when they arrived. "Which seems to be the case now. You got your glaive back! How'd you pull it off? What were her last words?" Sarkiin would've leaned fully into the excitement and jealousy, but the guilt that held the secret of Sarmene's existence in place outweighed all other feeling.
"Just gonna skip right past the fact that you kept me a secret from our sister, huh?"
"Trust me, there's been a lot of glossing over and skipping past lately," Saryam spat back. Even though she was responding to Sarmeme, Sarkiin knew they were the actual target of that ire.
"O--kay..." Sarmene took a steadying breath, an adopted a pleading expression almost identical to Sarkiin's, "Tbh," did she really just say the abbreviation out loud like a word? "Elata's not dead. Elata is me."
Sarkiin was stunned out of any recognizable cognition for a moment, then they turned to Saryam. She was a stiff rod of tension and fury and so many other feelings. Her eyes darted rapidly between her two older siblings.
"Explain," she finally managed to push the words between the brick wall of her teeth. "I won't hurt you yet, since Sarkiin seems to believe you are who you say you are. So explain. Then I'll decide how badly to hurt you after."
"Sounds good to me," god, Sarmene was really laughing at a time like this! It was equal parts admirable and infuriating. "Tl;dr: T'fas is actually an evil asshole with ambitions of world domination. Or something like world domination. He's intent on keeping world leaders scared and in his pocket, while letting them think he's in theirs. Back when I was still his student, he told me his plans. At first I was like, 'Oh wow! That's so cool! We're gonna rule the world!' But the more I thought about it, the less sense it made. Like sure, the world's pretty fucked as it is, but having a single leader for the whole damn thing? Sounds exhausting at best. And that was assuming it would even work! I knew I didn't wanna be a part of that.
"But I also knew I couldn't stop him. So, a few months later, I packed up and ran away." At this last her eyes got misty and her voice grew thicker. "It was stupid, but I ran straight home. And of course the fucker had already beat me there! When I got home, the house, and the neighbors' houses, were all on fire. I saw him standing there in the road and I figured he'd already killed all of you. So I ran again.
"I spent a month and change in the wilderness a few miles from home. Then the Breath of the Phoenix found me, I took on the name Elata -- we all have fire-related backstories, and fire-related codenames; it's so goofy, but we have fun -- and the rest is history."
At some point Saryam had risen and made her way around the cot. Now she stood next to her sister, looking on the verge of tears. Lightning quick, she struck out and slapped Sarmene on her cheek.
"Yeah I deser--"
Just as quick as the slap, Saryam had Sarmene in an embrace so tight the elder sister's face was changing color.
"Why didn't you ever say anything? Why didn't you just take the mask off?" Sarkiin asked. The hurt and relief, the grief and gratitude mixing in their voice made it sound more like a yawn than like actual questions. "We could've had a life together. But you threw it all away to hang out with a bunch of terrorists?"
"Well, see, that's exactly why," Sarmene choked out around Saryam's arms. "Contrary to what T'fas has taught us, to what the world believes, the Breath aren't terrorists. That's just something the powers that be tell folks to keep them in line," still with that sardonic smirk and easygoing tone. "In truth we're just a bunch of weirdo orphans doing our best to protect the places we come from. I kept myself hidden because I knew you were safer with T'fas than with me. I also knew I'd get you out one day. And that day has come, kids. We're ready to make some big moves. I'm here to invite you along for the ride."
This was too much, suddenly. Sarkiin couldn't hear another word through the cacophony of their entire world falling apart around them. It was just too much. They'd just started coming around to the notion that their life was about to become normal, which they barely had a grip on yet. Now here came all this extra chaos and contradiction and confusion; how could anyone expect them to hold all of this?
They were on the verge of storming off to hide these feelings, when they looked to Saryam. So steady, determination radiating off of her like a cooling mist drifting down from the mountaintop. In that moment Sarkiin realized that they didn't have to hold it all. At least, they wouldn't have to do it alone. Six hands would make light work of what seemed like a universe to two. "What'd you have in mind?" Saryam asked, and Sarkiin was pissed they'd let her beat them to the punch.