Twin Flames (Say)

[Brogan Kilvayne]

You're eternal, my love
For me, you're all there ever was
Every limit overcome
As were entangled, we are one

Time had moved in strange ways, for the man who was Brogan Kilvayne. Many lives, many deaths, many loves, and many hatreds. But for thousands of years he felt alone, in spite of all his adventures, all of his lived lives. Wives, sons, daughters, lineage after lineage. His soul was incomplete. It was India where he met her. It was in a world of wires and electrical signals where they crossed paths again. And now they lived again, a life rejuvenated. A love resumed, a flame rekindled. Two pieces of one soul made whole again. Sayeva was the blessing of his life, and he had been humbled by her love.

He no longer dreamed of conquest, of exploring new worlds, or bedding strange women. He dreamed of only his future with her. He was resolved they would not part again. To spend centuries without her again, it would be absolute torment. He woke from a hazy dream, and she was his first sight. He smiled. She was still asleep, the patterns of her breathing a rhythmic dance of life. He was intoxicated by this woman.

He lightly nudged her, eager to look into her eyes. To peer into the veil of the spiritual realm their love had revitalized in him, and he believed it had done the same for her. He had never felt the touch of the old Gods more than he did in her arms. Their ancient ways had been kept in spite of everything. For in all their long lives, Brogan knew one thing to hold true above all: the glory of mankind rose and fell with the ages, but the power of the Gods was eternal. They were eternal.

"Sayeva," He said softly, " 'Tis well past the hour of our usual wakening, my love. Sophie may have already attempted to make breakfast without us. Fortunately, I do not smell anything burning- yet."

Brogan kissed her forehead, gently. It must have been strange, to outsiders, that a man like him could be so gentle and warm. He was usually hard and intimidating, fierce, and edgy. With her, he was another man entirely. He could still be the savage, but that was reserved for such times as needed. He pitied the man who would do offense to Say...almost. He would not show mercy, at any rate.

"I am surprised that the sun even dares to rise, for she cannot shine as bright as thee, my Love. Nor can the moon in her course prove as fair."

[Sayeva Reardon]

Can I be dreaming once again?
I’m reaching; helpless, I descend
You lead me deeper through this maze
I’m not afraid; I’m lost in you!


In her dreams, she saw Madras, and Athanasius. Sometimes she saw Claudio, and her children; sometimes she saw the African wild, and sometimes she saw her sisters, in varying stages of their lives. Mostly, in the past, she had seen darker scenes, of death and torture, moonless dreams that left her screaming as she woke. She had been alone then. Now she had Sophie and occasionally Adrianna with her, and the greatest love of her life next to her.

She saw Madras and Athanasius, and, as she stirred, she heard his voice, and felt the touch of his lips on her forehead. As her eyes eased open, she saw him as well. He was Brogan now, and she was Sayeva, but nothing else had changed between them. Somehow a love had endured the centuries as much as they had. It was astonishing to think about, but even more so to feel, to experience as it even continued to grow within herself.

Every sight of him, every night with him, every trip they spent hunting together, every moment shared between them nudged her love for him that much greater, that much wider. In the morning, there was no better way to greet the day than to be touched by him or to hear his voice. She smiled sleepily and laid a hand on his chest.

“Sophie can cook all she likes. No fire will ever burn as brightly as ours, dearest.” All the same, she sat up and stretched, and blushed faintly as Brogan praised her. He had a way of bringing out the softness in her at times, and encouraging her inner animal at others. He was absolutely perfect to her, and absolutely perfect in this moment. She gazed at him for a while, just taking in the sight and smell and feel of him, and then smiled again.

“The rest of the world can have the sun and the moon. I belong to you.” She ran a hand through his hair. “We could spend all day and night here, you know. But if we must get up…,” she teased, and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Then we really should get to the kitchen before Sophie does.”

Words: 369.
Attire: Probably nothing at the moment.
Excerpt: Red, “Lost.”
Comments: It’s 4 AM. lol.

[Brogan Kilvayne]

Room to breathe, fill my need.
Give me space, plant the seed.
Born alone, slowly grown.
There's a strength in my breed.

“Sophie can cook all she likes. No fire will ever burn as brightly as ours, dearest.”

Brogan smiled, seeing his lover awakening. She was the reason he still believed in this world. It would be easy for him to abandon humanity again, if not for her coming back into his life. She had brought a meaning back that he had sorely missed for many a century passed in loneliness. True, he had lived other lives since then and had other lovers, but it was never the same as in Madras, and as it was in that home they had made in San Diego. They had shared something ultimately that could not be shared by any but a few souls- memories of a world lost in time. An age of the sword, an age of magic and Gods.The world of cities like Knossos, Sparta, Athens, Byzantium, Alexandria, Thebes and Rome.The world of Athanasios Kleonides and Valeria Secunda. Their world. A world no man or woman of this age had seen.

“The rest of the world can have the sun and the moon. I belong to you.”

"και εγώ σε σένα την αγάπη μου," Brogan said, the Greek words flowing from his lips, the perfect inflections and stresses giving away that this was his first language, " Diis gratias ago propter tecum sum. On this day, and all that are to come. Jeg elsker deg, med andre ord."

“We could spend all day and night here, you know. But if we must get up…,”

Brogan smiled, as Say's lips touched the flesh of his warrior's visage. Her so close, so warm, and nude... he was also nude, still. It was rather tempting not to get out of bed. But unless Sophie was similarly occupied, odds were good that it was only a matter of time before she would try to take matters into her own hands and cook, thus turning this day into a firetruck kind of day. Brogan felt this should be avoided at all costs. So he forced himself to resist the temptation. He was hungry, also.

“Then we really should get to the kitchen before Sophie does.”

"Agreed," Brogan said, sitting up, and reaching for his robe.

" Adrianna really ought to be responsible for making sure that Sophie doesn't attempt culinary arts unsupervised. I think we should post a new house rule to that effect..."

[Sayeva Reardon]

Siamo angeli con un’ala sola, solo restando abbracciati possiamo volare.

Even though she had seem many sunrises - or, in this case, past sunrise - with this man, each one seemed more beautiful than those past. There was still sleep in her eyes as Sayeva reached for him, placing her hand on his chest, and smiling softly up at him. She gave a small smile at how easily and smoothly he switched language, and how he described how he loved her.

Valeria Secunda. She remembered being that woman. It had been her first lifetime, and the longest.She had been many woman since then, and had loved Brogan twice; the first time, they had parted in fear that the other would outlive them as their past lovers had, with no idea how wrong they had been. Now, of course, they knew better; and now, of course, they would never leave the other’s side again.

She was beginning to wake up fully now; she was unsure whether she really wanted to. Oh, there was the real world and everything if hers waiting for her. Her house, her work, her sister… who she often joked about setting things on fire, a joke which Brogan had picked up as well. Recently, Sayeva had learned a chinchilla form, which she hoped would become the bane of Sophie’s life. Not truly, of course.

She sat up as Brogan did, and kissed him again gently on his lips as he pulled on his robe. “Nunquam te amare desistam, my dearest,” she told him, combing her fingers though his hair again. “Sei tutto per me. Se il mio universo.” She drew her fingers along his cheek for a moment, then nudged him lightly. “We could trade languages all day, mon amour. Love translates into all of them.” With another light kiss to his cheek, she reached for her robe as well.

There was a relatively new feeling in her heart, one she remembered having felt only once in her life so far, for the man who had eventually become her second husband. Marriage was hardly an institution she put much stock in anymore, with various governments trying to regulate it rather than just keeping out of who loved who; but there was still a sort of symbolism in it, a way of showing one’s intentions to the world, a way of celebrating their union with their family and friends.

She wanted to marry Brogan, to show the world what true love was.

Pulling on her robe, she rose to her knees and stepped off the bed. She chuckled at Brogan’s comment regarding Adrianna and Sophie. “We should teach her sometime, she’s an excellent student, when she wants to be.” She frowned playfully for a moment. “That may not be the best of ideas, on second thought….”

She took Brogan’s hand and started to draw him toward the kitchen. “You must have a hunger, my warrior,” she said with a bit of a tease in her tone. “What is it with which you would like to break your fast?”

Words: 504.
Attire: A robe.
Excerpt: Quote attributed to writer-director Luciano De Crescenzo.
Comments: very very meh.

[Brogan Kilvayne]

A burning flame as blue as ice
Now I can see it in your eyes
Be my fate, oh Vanadis!
Through the nights, oh Manalis!

"Nunquam te amare desistam, my dearest,”

Brogan loved the way she spoke Latin. Her lips and tongue making every stress and rolling "r" sensual. She had a way with languages, and with making Brogan forget that time and the world were things that even mattered. He might never join the Einherjar, or perhaps he had been already taken unto the Halls of Freya, chosen by Vanadis? He was liking that notion, more and more. If the Goddess and Sayeva were one and the same, anyway. He was willing to say they were, as he couldn't think of a reason to contradict the concept. Perhaps this was the delirium of his love, perhaps it was merely the deep truth underlying all things.


“Sei tutto per me. Se il mio universo.”

"Imperatrix mundi, Sayeva, you are she." Brogan said with a smile.

“We could trade languages all day, mon amour. Love translates into all of them.”


"Indeed," Brogan answered with a hale and hearty peal of laughter, "But we would surely miss out on so many wondrous things."


They had resolved to begin the day in earnest, and Brogan would see that through. As tempting as idle idolatry of his lover would be, he had other interests to pursue. Such as feeding his immense hunger.

“We should teach her sometime, she’s an excellent student, when she wants to be.”

"Yes," Brogan said, "She is my kinswoman, verily."


“That may not be the best of ideas, on second thought….”

"Perhaps."

“You must have a hunger, my warrior,”

"Aye, Vanadis" He responded without hesitation.

“What is it with which you would like to break your fast?”

Brogan thought for a moment, and he knew this would likely be a large undertaking. He would help, of course. He was no slovenly husband who expected his wife or lover to wait on him hand and foot. He was a warrior, a soldier, a hunter and a survivalist. He knew his way around fire and food. It was a matter of principle that he take part in the preparation of a feast wherein he would consume the most, as well.

"How is our stock of venison, doing? I fear I may have hit it hard. I crave a steak, with bacon, eggs and some potatoes. I think that will make a fine breakfast, my love."

He looked into her eyes, and his heart soared. Every kiss, every touch, every day they spent together, was a new awakening to the magic of this life they shared. The world, the Gods, the fates had blessed them with the love of legends, the union of twin flames. The meeting of souls sundered in twain, becoming one again. This was a love to light the world ablaze.

"Come, let us light this world on fire, Vanadis." Brogan kissed Sayeva passionately, forgetting all conversation of culinary matters...

[Sayeva Reardon]

Her lover had so many names for her, all flattering in their own ways. Sayeva barely thought herself worthy of any of them. She was not a goddess, nor immortal; she was just extremely long-lived. A case could be made for her being a “warrior,” but she had shied away from most of the world’s wars, and only fought when her loved ones were in danger, or, in a manner of speaking, when she was hunting. That was all she really was, to herself. Jut a normal woman who had seen too much of the world.

But Brogan thought higher of her, so much higher. She hardly deserved the names he gave her. He had kept to the Old Gods, who she knew well, but knowing was not believing; her belief in any god had been lost centuries ago. She respected those who did, however, and anything Brogan chose to call her was acceptable to her.

She loved to hear him laugh, especially so heartily. She laughed too, and placed a hand on his cheek for a moment. But it was time to wake now, and time to find food for breakfast-

He swept her into a passionate kiss, to which she responded in kind, allowing the top of her robe to fall away as she wrapped her arms around him. The world fell away when she was in his arms; the work she had to do to keep them afloat, the tending to the house, the breakfast especially, and all the other little things that kept their lives together. If she were to spend all day and night in Brogan’s embrace, all of that would fall apart. Oh, but if only….

She parted her lips from Brogan’s gently, and gave him a smile as she pulled her robe back around herself and tied it in place. “I wish I could have you every night and day, my love,” she said softly, “but the world seems to move without us.” Her smile brightened. “But that does mean I get to make my love a warrior’s breakfast."