To say that leaving Venia Dei (2.0) had been hard would be to produce a half truth. The reality of it was that, while Cyrus missed his parents he was relieved to be out from under them and the shadows of his older brothers. Cyrus had not been born to be another man’s shadow, even if said man was blood. The idea of being restrained and shackled, always the fifth, sixth, seventh in line though his claim was just as legitimate as any of theirs, did not fit the ideals of Cyrus’ personality. It was not unrealized how vain and selfish that sounded (even in his head), yet Cyrus was not in the habit of lying and when a reason had been requested by Isi and Phoebe when he expressed his desire to leave, this was the reason they received. It wasn’t, so much, Cyrus deflected the arrogant sounds of his thoughts, that he was power hungry. He was well suited for diplomacy, both a natural peacekeeper and fighter, not as contradicting as it sounded. The two, despite being on the opposite sides of spectrum were closely interconnected. It was simply that, he never wanted to be “second” best. And…maybe he was selfish, but was it so selfish to avoid challenging whatever brother (or sister) that would take the helm when his parents settled down? This was not to say they would not be challenged by another, but Cyrus, for all his selfishness, could not forcefully fight and take something that another sibling deserved just as much as he did.
No.
Leaving had been rather easy.
There had been some surprise that Hamied had wanted to come along, Cyrus had made it abundantly clear to his younger brother that he had no intentions of returning. While the option was always open to Hamied, Cyrus would not escort him back. So far, Cyrus had not brought up the subject of Venia Dei, their parents, siblings, or the other boy’s reasons for wanting to leave, too. It was not that Cyrus did not care about Hamied’s reasons -- because he did -- moreso that Cyrus was not into prying (even in regards to his siblings) and figured that if Hamied wanted him to know, the younger Frostfur would tell him when he was good and ready to. It was Cyrus’ belief that no one should be forced to do or express something they did not want to; they had ways of telling you when they felt comfortable enough. It would come out eventually, Cyrus felt certain. Glimpse was given to his younger brother, a peek over a broad, silver dusted shoulder (a Frostfur trademark that made Cyrus a near spitting image of his great-grandfather Cypress), pale, frosted green eyes studying him for a few moments as they wove through the dusk-lit forest. Cyrus slowed to a stop when they reached a decent sized clearing, expecting Hamied to do the same. “Night is falling,” A glimpse was spared to the canopy above, the brilliant oranges of the sun down giving the forest the illusion of fire.
“We should rest here for the night.” Something of a hierarchy had formed between them, with Cyrus appointing himself as the ‘leader’. It was in Cyrus’ nature to take charge, though Hamied was free to do what he wished, free to “challenge” him (so to speak), free to venture off on his own if he wanted. Cyrus knew his younger brother was much more timid than he, himself, was, but, also knew that he would not stand in the younger Frostfur’s way if he wished to do his own thing.