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"I call forth insanity! To bless my soul!!"
Wind swirled around the young man, tugging faintly at his wild black hair as he stared upward at the column of light. It was holy light, the light of the insane lords, the light of judgement, the one which would decide the fate of each child within the Ichiguro family. From behind one of the elegantly carved pillars in the temple, his little brother watched, wide eyed and amazed. It had all been said before. Siria Ichiguro's seven sons were to become children to the insanity. Siria himself was the current insane lord, and his family had held the blood of insanity in their veins for centuries.
Insane lords had been used to keep the peace between warring clans, but had also been used as tools of war when things got troublesome. Siria was the last remaining of the three brothers, the only one who had married, the only one who hadn't fallen victim to the power which was insanity. His children held promise, the shaamans had said. If the insane lord had such a commanding air of his gift, then his children... could possibly be more powerful than he himself. They were all hale strong boys, ranging between the ages of Twenty and nine, not counting those who had died. The little boy blinked, watching his last remaining brother as he was enveloped by the holy light. He remembered quite well what had happened those other times, when his brothers had entered the temple, and how different they were when they emerged.
Losda and Arrum were twins. Both tall and broad and muscular, both used to doing hard work. They were so different from each other, despite their appearance. Wild black hair, their mother's deep amber eyes, the two were often arguing, fighting, over something or another. Losda had entered the temple first, and had emerged with the light of insanity in his eyes. He had owned the insanity for a few days, before it enveloped his soul. It took control of his mind, until he eventually threw himself off a cliff to get away from it. Arrum had gone mad with grief once Losda was gone. He swore not to take in the insane light, and Siria killed him with a mere flick of his wrist. He'd said that a child who could not take up the insanity was no child of his. Arrum had died from his father's insanity, the villagers said. Siria had told this tale to his younger sons, asking them to understand. Firion had taken his fathers hands and examined them carefully. Firion had nodded and smiled. Firion had understood.
Firion of the flaming hair. The child who was only seventeen when he had taken up the insanity. Firion had been the perfect student. Firion had studied. He understood teh insanity and its ways. He wouldn't make the same mistake that Losda and Arrum had. Insanity wasn't mere power to be abused. Insanity was something you had to understand, to care for, to control. Firion was a master at this. The kind, nurturing brother, lithe and understanding, with his mother's kindness and his father's air. Siria wept the first time that Firion flew. Firion was such a promising boy. He loved the insanity, knowing it was his own family. He would probably be outside now, smiling, waiting. Or he would have, if the warlords hadn't snatched him away. He was still growing, and the insanity growing with him. Only a fool would have tried to capture an insane lord for their own uses. As far as they knew, Firion was still alive. Firion lived on in another kingdom, still growing with his insanity. "I'll write back, father. I will return to you one day." Siria's dream had been vivid. Firion had learned to communicate over distances. But he was a prisoner of war. The hole that was left from Firion's departure hurt the family more than anything. So Dune had vowed to take Firion back.
There was nothing special about Dune. He was a bland boy, with violet hair and Siria's intense green eyes. he trained hard, worked hard, fought and battled others, to train himself so he could go find Firion. Dune was 16, a year younger than the fire hair, but Siria had looked at him and said it was time. Dune entered the chamber of insanity, and Dune hadn't come back out. Siria had entered the temple to see what was wrong, and emerged holding Dune's lifeless body. The insanity had found a weakness inside him, found something beyond the passionate longing to free his brother, Firion. Siria said he didn't know what it was. He didn't know why Dune had died. The insanity worked in strange ways. The other children were worried, afraid. Siria gathered teh remaining five up into hsi lap and had smiled at them. "It is our destiny to become the lords of the insane." He said with a smile. "When the time comes, you must do your best. You are all individuals, and the insanity will react to you in different ways." Clove ran away the next day.
Clove. That brother was hard to remember. He was tall like his father, looked like his mother, and feared the insanity. Siria was sorry when he took the children with him on horseback to the forest, where they found Clove hiding. The boy had fallen at Siria's feet and begged for mercy, begged his father to spare his life. Siria took the child in his arms and shook his head slowly. "Why do you fear the insanity?"
"Misery has befallen all my brothers that dared to take it upon themselves."
Siria took him home. And things were peaceful for two years. Clove reached teh age of eighteen, and Siria told him that it was time. Clove entered teh temple, and emerged as an insane lord. He wasn't as good as Firion had been, but he was a capable master, who held the insanity in awe. But it made Siria sad. The insanity owned his child, the child did not own the insanity. Clove was outside now, waiting. One arm mauled and destroyed, but waiting with that ever serious look on his face. Clove scared the others. He was a master to be feared, though the other children had no idea why.
But now, after his hard work, Kirialis was entering the insanity. The light enveloped him. He was so young. But so powerful. Siria saw his potential as a master of the insanity long long ago. He was only twelve. The youngest in the history of insane lords. Kirialis was the favourite brother, after Firion.
"many have tried, many have failed. I raise you, my sons, so that you may go forth and be strong. Hold your insanity close to your heart." His fathers words still echoed in his head. Kirialis let out a grunt of pain, the light searing his flesh. The little boy watched, afraid and amazed as his brother was enveloped by the insanity.
"Kirialis!" He called out, taking a step forward. His brother turned, amber eyes widening in surprise.
"Vrael! Get back!" He yelled. Something roared behind him, struck him, and he let out a cry of pain. Vrael watched, as his brother fell, watched as a spark of light burst forth from his brother's body and struck him in his throat. He fell back, the light of insanity disappeared, the temple growing cold and black again. He ran forward and touched hsi brother gently, gazing at the red substance that came off on his fingers. Siria appeared, black hair wild, eyes worried. He gazed at the little child holding his brother's bloodied body. Silently he walked forward and took Vrael in his arms.
"Who are you to command insanity?" he asked staring sternly at the little boy. Vrael opened his mouth, no words coming out.
"Exactly, my little mute." Siria replied. "You disrupted his concentration. He shall never be an insane lord now." He thought for a moment. "You must take his place." He put Vrael back down on the floor, carefully dragging Kirialis away from teh charred circle where the insane light had been. "He will live." He said softly, checking his son's pulse. "But he will never live up to the greatness of either Clove or Firion. Insanity has entered him, but insanity has also smote him." He turned his intense green eye'd gaze upon Vrael. "And it is your fault, my child. You must fight for them all. For Arrum and Losda. For Dune. And now for Kirialis as well." He looked to the ceiling, calling the insane light down again. Vrael grew scared. he turned. he tried to flee. But with a mere flick of his wrist, Vrael was seized by invisible cords that tightened painfully around his arms, his knees and his neck. Siria raised his hand, suspending the nine year old in the air. "You will do as I bid. We have had enough deaths of the insane. Come, my son. Embrace the light."
Vrael was cast roughly into the burning circle. He screamed as the light caught his flesh and burned. Dune and Losda and Arrum were staring down at him from teh holy light. And Firion smiled his encouragement. But the insanity was cruel. It seared it burned, it tortured...

Vrael sat up with a silent cry. He gazed around the dark confines of his room, sweat cooling on his brow.
"A dream." His mind's voice muttered as he gazed at his hands. "Nothing more... than a dream..."
He looked out of the window at the cold, bitter rain. Out at the five mounds that marked the graves of the other insane lords.
"A dream...." He repeated, convincing himself.