Peace.
It is synonymous with many things.
The smile of a child, the drifting of butterflies, the gentle spring rain where light is allowed to split into its spectrums. Perhaps it is also synonymous with a flower petal caught by the wind, blown uncontrollably, falling softly, irrefutably, until it returns itself to the earth.
Unfortunately, for some…
Peace can only be synonymous with pain.
It is odd.
However, it is the truth. It has been the truth since the first time the infinity of the dark was broken by the first drop of light.
It has been the truth since the oppressive silence was broken by the first note of song.
A person's peace usually will be bought with somebody else's, and usually, it can only be that way.
A family's peace usually will mean some other family has to bear the burden.
Then… what about a realm's peace? A kingdom's peace? A world's? Surely, it too must be paid for with pain, a sky's worth of pain. A pain that can only be accompanied by an ocean's worth of blood. It does not matter whose blood. Sacrifices must be made.
Rahzmir's mind was still full of peace when he opened his eyes to pain. A massive, dull, searing sensation emanated from inside his skull. Whatever concoction Weaz had given him earlier was apparently stronger than any firewater he had ever had in his life, but Weaz's promise had held true.
"That potion…" Rahzmir vaguely remembered that Weaz might have inherited some of his parents' knowledge from when they were still alive. "Anmir. I owe my life to you and your son."
He could only remember the nil mac'gjar. Weaz had come to him on his knees, saying Nouz had commanded him to use a small dagger to poison him, coated with some unique poison Nouz had concocted. A very lethal one.
"You're awake." A gruff voice came from near the entrance to the darkened room.
"Gaz…?"
"He was strong. Perhaps as strong as you were when you were young."
Rahzmir went silent for a moment.
"We taught him well."
"We did."
"If only his father could see how strong his firstborn became. Perhaps that would help in teaching the boy a lesson."
Gazmir moved closer to Rahzmir's position, closer to the sunchips burning inside the lantern on the floor. The ember-like glow touched him gently, revealing what he had lost in his fight against Rahzar.
"Gaz… your arm…"
"It was a clean cut, cauterized instantly by whatever flame he manifested. The pain will linger, but the worst has come to pass." Gazmir sat right beside his old friend, handing him a small jug of liquid. It did not smell like firewater. "Water, to wash away the poison."
Poison… Rahzmir thought. How quaint, that his life was supposed to end by a poison created by the last surviving poisoner, yet now he still lived by the grace of another kind of poison, created by the last surviving alchemist.
"It wasn't poison. I lived… How many days have I…?"
"Three days. You never knew whether the young'un would mess up the dosage or not."
"He didn't. That's what matters. Where's Sol?"
"As you said before, when sending him out with Rahzar and me, I managed to convince Rahzar to stop near the snowy cliffs, at the outskirts of the forest. There, I trusted my gut. For Rahzar to send Sol west and north, toward the cavern. He did."
Gazmir gulped from the jug twice before putting it down.
"From there, what we needed to prepare for was the aftermath. The moment Rahzar knew that his proving to you, the Chief, by means of nil mac'gjar would go unchallenged, he would return and issue the challenge. He did as predicted. What bothers me was the presence of the nhivens and the moonwolves, and whether the boy was able to escape the beasts safely and make it downhill."
"Do you think… he will be able to meet the old man?"
"I…" Gazmir watched the sunchips flicker for a split second before exhaling. "I cannot answer that question. Naama has taught him all that he needs to know. The local flora and fauna. The way to stave off the cold. The way to sharpen his blades. He's a good learner, Rahzmir. He knows more than we thought he knew. I worry for his safety as well, but exile is still better than what his half-brother will do to him once he becomes Chief of the village."
"Do you think it's real? What that… thing told us fifteen years ago? Do you think it's not some ploy by the Gleaming Ones to cleanse all of us from the face of the earth?" Rahzmir took the jug from Gazmir's left hand and sipped once. The ache eased, slightly.
"I have no reason not to believe it. Yet I also cannot find any reason why they would do such a thing in the first place, with the war over and the treaty signed…"
Gazmir stood and walked to the other side of the room, where the surviving half of his greataxe was propped against the wall. "You still remember her, right? Her smile, her kindness, the way she could warm this desolate, cold excuse of a village in the few short moons she was here?"
"Nerine."
"Yes. The human girl your brother brought here to the village. Do you remember the snow that day? The Old Chief thought she was a sorceress, one to be used as a lifeline, so that we might not freeze to death that season…"
Rahzmir chuckled, then winced because of the pain in his head. There might still be some side effects from the potion.
"Yes, I remember. She proved to us that she was an actual help. She healed Dobzim's wounds, and mine as well. Helped with the shearing of the animals, the milking of the fenoshes. She also helped Naama with teaching. I still can't believe my ears when she said she felt accepted here… Her smile, the beautiful squint of her eyes, made me want to believe…" There was a pause from the dull pain. "…that peace was real."
Gazmir watched his old friend's expression darken. For a moment, that human girl had been Rahzmir's sister as well, and he truly loved her like one, unlike the Old Chief's other son, who left the village as soon as he found another purpose.
"She never told anyone, but she did tell Naama once, after making her swear on her life that she would never tell anyone. We always thought your brother was the baby's father, Rahzmir, but Nerine said he wasn't, yet he also was."
"You did see the resemblance in Sol's features to my brother's, surely. There is no doubt that Sol is his son."
"Listen to me, Rahzmir. Think about it. Think about what that thing told us in the middle of the flames."
Rahzmir closed his eyes. He could still remember that day as if it were yesterday. The sudden blizzard, the ascension of the Apex, Zyneios's rampage throughout the Stake, the flames, and the moment Nerine, the girl he thought of as his own sister, perished inside that fire, birthing a child marked by pain and destruction into this world.
He could still see the house's roof collapsing inward. He could still see Sol's tiny arms flailing, trying to break free from the being that held him in its left arm, the twelve golden lightstreams sprouting from its back like unfurled wings.
"Allow him…" Rahzmir could still remember how the Being's voice boomed inside all of their heads. Strong, resolute, kind. Unlike the voices of any Gleaming One or Fallen One he had ever heard before. "…to show the ending that we all deserve."
That memory brought him back even further, to what his sister-in-law had told him a few days before that.
—
—
—
"Hey… Rahzmir…? Can I call you Rahzmir? Older Brother Rahzmir?" Nerine's voice traveled lightly through the air. She sounded so weak, yet so cheerful. Like a flower petal caught in the wind, floating down effortlessly.
Rahzmir watched his sister-in-law's face, flushed with a heavy fever. He had heard of children born of human and Geherrim before, yet almost all of them never came to fruition. Parent and child would usually die in the process.
There was no reason to reject the nature of things. What was made blue would usually remain blue, and what was made red would usually remain red. Unlike colors, living beings were not meant to mix, especially those born of different realms such as theirs.
"You're feverish, Nerine. Keep still."
Rahzmir could also remember the presence of another woman in the room with them, and the small child clinging to her hip.
Laoun, his brother's lawful wife, and Rahzar, her firstborn son.
"Laoun…" Rahzmir could still remember what he had wanted to say to her then, to tell her not to try so hard. Whatever fruit had been created out of Nerine and his brother's union would never be allowed to ripen. She's just a human…
But Rahzmir kept his silence. He wanted her to survive. He wanted her to see the smile of her child with his brother, a child Rahzmir himself would never be allowed to have.
"Shush, Rahzmir, go away. Nerine will recover more easily without you here." Laoun's voice was calm, like the surface of undisturbed water upon a great lake, with a depth Rahzmir himself could never fathom. She changed the wet cloth on Nerine's forehead and replaced it with a fresh one, cooled with just enough water.
"Ehehe, it's okay. I mean, aren't we all brothers and sisters now?"
Brothers and sisters. How painful those words were to Rahzmir's heart. If only he could be as strong as his brother. If only he could be a Unifier, then perhaps he too would be allowed to have his own progeny, perhaps with the one he loved most. Rahzmir looked at Laoun before breaking his gaze and returning it to Nerine.
"Yes, we are. Be still, don't think about anything and just go to sleep. Laoun, can I have a moment?"
"Why?"
"Just a moment."
—
That flower petal was indeed beautiful. Yet that beautiful, swirling petal caught by the wind had to return to the earth, sooner or later.
Laoun's eyes widened in disbelief, yet she forced the words out. "Naama said…? What about Anrim? Dobzim? What about Nouan? Can he create something to ease the pain?"
Rahzmir's only response was a small shake of his head.
Inside the room, Nerine was holding Rahzar's hand. Rahzmir could see it from the corridor. His heart broke in two. He needed to tell her.
So he walked back inside, only to stop short at the crack of the door. Nerine's soft voice to Rahzar could be heard quite clearly.
"…be strong, okay? You will be strong, and you will protect them on their way…"
"What if I don't want to?"
There was a slight pause.
"Then it's okay to find what you want to do." Rahzmir could see her smiling brightly through the crack. It pained him. "I have full faith in you, because you're his older brother."
Rahzmir opened the door slightly. "Did I interrupt anything?"
He could hear Laoun weeping softly from the corridor.
"Oh, no. None at all. I'm just telling Rahzar some stuff. What's wrong?"
Rahzmir's eyes went to the little child sitting near the bed. He did not want him to see his mother weeping outside, so he closed the door silently and moved closer to where Nerine lay.
He had to tell her. She was dying. She was only human. She could not survive the pain of birthing a Geherrim.
He had to tell her.
"Nerine--"
Nerine touched both Rahzar's and Rahzmir's hands. Both of them could see that her face was still smiling.
"I am going to die soon, am I right?" It was a resolute smile that framed her face. "In two days, while I am giving birth to my son?"
Rahzmir was caught off guard.
She swallowed, then continued. "You and everybody from the village won't be here, I think? You will have to resolve a mother's sadness, and a son's sadness, near the higher parts of the mountain? Please don't kill them. She's just sad, and he resonates with her sadness as well. Just… shoo her away?"
"I don't… understa--"
"My son, please name him Soru-- wait, no, perhaps Sol would be better… I wish for him to be like a sun that shines warmly in the cold sky. For you, for Rahzar, for everybody else." Rahzmir could see tears welling in Nerine's eyes. She was holding them back, trying not to cry in front of them, the two people who would be closest to her son.
She inhaled once more and forced herself to smile. "Tell him that I am so grateful to be his mother. And… and… and--"
Her tears broke right in front of them.
"Tell him to eat well, and tell him to be kind to the ones he will meet on his journey, and tell him not to hate his father, and--" She wept, yet her smile remained, framing her face as if it were the most natural thing in the world. As if it was the only thing she had left to do. "--tell him not to hit his father too hard when he met him… and, and--"
"If I am gone before… please… can you please…" She placed a knife into Rahzmir's hand. He knew what that entailed. "…please… free him…"
The knife felt cold in Rahzmir's hand. Rahzar could only watch as it shook slightly in his uncle's palm.
—
—
—
Gazmir stood beside his greataxe, already halved, listening intently. The sound of soft snow falling upon the roof of the house gently broke the silence between them.
"Rahzar was inside that room, Gaz… He didn't understand. He was just trying to help free her brother. And now he has to shoulder the burden of that guilt all his life, because of a failure I am."
Gazmir winced, the pain from the stump still flaring uncontrollably. Yet even that pain was nothing compared to the story Rahzmir had just told him.
"…and you didn't tell anybody about this before?"
"Rahzar refused to believe me. He refused to believe Naama. He refused to believe you. He only believed himself. That what he did was wrong. That what he did was the reason the house burned, why Laoun died, why Nerine died."
"…And those emotions were heard by Fragments of Gehenna… and manifested as his Armament."
Rahzmir nodded.
"Ain-Zahar… Gaz… if I remember my lessons well… that's ancient Gehennic for…"
"…Yes. It translates literally to the First Flame of Mourning. The exact same one that was wielded by the Wrathfallen, up until the moment of his death at the hand of Mikhail…"
The snow fell softly in the middle of the Stake.
A Nhiven tried to stand with every last bit of strength she had. Her body had been battered, bloodied, broken, but the pain was nothing compared to the sight of the other dead Nhivens surrounding her now.
Rahzar took a step forward. No expression could be seen on his face. Everything was empty, except for the two burning eyes locked upon the last living Nhiven.
His left hand held the beheaded remains of the last living male, and at his feet lay dozens of Nhiven foals, their future denied utterly and completely.
"Do not worry, weakling."
He swung his greatsword to the side. The wind from it hurled the smaller foals' bodies into the air.
"What I am doing right now is the same as what you did to the people of my village."
He lifted his Armament high into the air with his right hand. Flames returned to the blades, swirling, forming a blazing edge.
"We protected what we needed to protect."
Somewhere, in the middle of the darkness of the Stake, another pillar of flame came crashing down upon the face of the earth.