Powers for the Tieflings

“I said, Atka, STOP!”
 
Atka suddenly felt herself being unable to move, mid-run. Her eyes were stuck, her body rigid, but instead of crashing to the ground, she just hung midair. Without warning combined with haste, she was thrust back the way she came toward her brother again. She landed gently cradled in his arms, his head nestled down to kiss the top of her head. Upon the touch of his lips, as if permission granted, her body became her own again and leaned against him to struggle to stay standing after the ordeal.
 
“What in the hells was that?” she asked and craned her neck up to see his face upside down above her.
 
“I might ask you the same question, sister.” He released her arms after steadying her and displayed the burned cloth. His skin had been quickly healed by nearby medics and magic-users, but the remnants were there. Atka swallowed hard now as she stared as the blackened, disintegrated clothing hanging tattered over freshly fixed gray skin.
 
“I think we need to talk, Mamnen,” she whispered and bumped her back and shoulders off his upper chest to turn quickly to face him. “I am under contract right now, and I do need to see that through, but this… We need to handle this. I didn’t realize that it was happening to you too.”
 
“I sent you a clue. Did you not receive my poem?”
 
“Mistaking devils for dealers, and dealers for devils? That poem?”
 
“Yes.”
 
“Makes zero sense out of context. I still don’t know what that line means, and as for the rest of it, your ‘power’ could have been intellect, strength, anything other than whatever the fu–ow!” Her hand involuntarily left her side and struck her under the chin before relaxing back down at her side.
 
“Don’t take tones with me. You may be soldiered up, but you’re still a lady to me.”
 
Atka struggled not to laugh, and she was equally surprised when another person’s laugh came boisterously from behind her. Both tieflings shared similar confused looks as they faced the red-haired, noble human youth. Atka’s face immediately dropped. “How much bad luck can one tiefling have to run into two people I didn’t want to see in one afternoon?”
 
“Hey…” Mamnen drifted off and then eyed the human curiously. “So, Atka, who is this now?”
 
“Renaer Neverember,” she muttered. Renaer grinned a bit and extended his hand to Mamnen. “Renaer, this is my twin, Mamnen.”
 
“Twin? My heavens, I didn’t know you had a family; you try to absorb other people’s families so much.”
 
“What does that–”
 
“Nevermind, Mammy,” she hastened to say and shot a knowing glance at Renaer. He looked at her with an equally knowing smile, ran a hand through his hair, and said,
 
“No… Atka, really?”
 
“Atka, is this a partner of yours?” Mamnen asked, looking the young, roguish figure up and down and preparing for the worst of conversations.
 
Renaer’s laughter could’ve sniped birds out of thin air, Atka knew. She closed her eyes and began to massage her temples with her two pointer and middle fingers. Mamnen eyed her, she felt, and then turned to secure an explanation from the human.
 
“She hasn’t told you? You’re not the typical twins then.” Renaer jabbed, and then caught a glare from the tiefling ‘lady.’ “No, I’m not a partner of hers. She’d love to be a member of my family though.”
 
“Shut up.” she whispered. Mamnen looked from one to the other, pulling his arms across his chest.
 
“Ask her if we’d look like a good stepmother/son duo?”
 
“Oh, Atka, really! Not the buying lord–”
 
“That’s it. I’m out,” she stated and turned on a copper piece, beginning to flee. She was met with Mamnen’s mysterious ability to take away her body’s permission to do anything and she stood there, frozen.
 
“Bye, Atka,” Renaer laughed and peered at the stiff figure of Atka Marduk. He looked from her form to Mamnen who eyed him with inquiry. “What’s happened to her?”
 
“She’s learning some ability to cool down and self-control in real time,” he said calmly. “Now, are you the real Renaer Neverember or someone reportedly flaunting himself as he? Because if so, that would mean that the lord who purchased my sister at 16 years of age to do gods-only-know what with her was your dear father Lord Dagult Neverember?”
 
“You know Waterdeep history. And I get the impression you’re not infatuated with my father in the same way as your sister seems to be, so already, I like you.”
 
“Poor decision. I don’t like your father for what he’s obviously done to my sister–”
 
“More like what she’s tried to get him to do–”
 
Atka collapsed onto the ground as she was suddenly released from Mamnen’s whatever-the-hell spell. His concentration was obviously on Renaer now as he had him hoisted up by the shirt collar so they could be nose-to-nose. “Mamnen, stop!”
 
Mamnen shifted his eyes without moving his head to glance at her briefly, speaking to her, “I know you think it’s wrong what I’m doing, but the spell they have on you is worth hating me for.”
 
“Mamnen, let him go now.” She stood up and quickly brushed the hair out of her face. Renaer looked at her and then back at him.
 
“You’d really risk everything on the off-chance she’d stop what she’s doing with my father by taking the life of a noble on the streets of Waterdeep?” Renaer asked him, tiptoes struggling to find ground for the seven foot tiefling in front of him.
 
“Want to find out?”
 
“Nope!” Atka exclaimed, jumping behind Mamnen, placing both hands flat on his back, and willing the flames to expel through her palms. Mamnen cried out in surprise and dropped Renaer who was quick to draw a rapier. He placed it across the throat of the twin brother tiefling, who was now on his knees, back singed.
 
“Thank you, Atka.” said Renaer.
 
“Animal,” she hissed at him. “Put that away.” Renaer reluctantly did so, but shot Mamnen a warning look of not to rise. Atka put a hand on the human’s chest and pushed. “Go, go…” she demanded softly. “Leave us.”
 
He hesitated looking at Mamnen and then back at Atka. “What did he do to you?” he whispered, leaning in.
 
“Leave,” she whispered back, softening her gaze at someone who she ought not recognize, “please…” With that, he disappeared into the crowd she was now aware that had formed around the three.
 
Mamnen stood up. “Follow my lead, Atka,” he whispered into her ear, feigning a kiss on the temple. He put an arm around her shoulders and together they bowed. “Thank you, thank you! Please tip as you see fit, as we know the show is not for everyone.”
 
They didn’t wait long for people to decide if it was real, faked, or something in between. Mamnen leaned on her and walked the two of them off to a small shop in the middle of the craftsmen’s district.