Chapter 119: A Parent's Sacrifice

Book 3, Chapter 19 - A Parent's Sacrifice

Vi'An awoke during the middle of the day. He swayed his stiff neck, rubbing away a layer of dampness around it. He had a sudden craving for the street foods of Katur. His father was still sleeping in the bed next to his. Lacerta was nowhere to be seen.

Vi'An silently rustled out from beneath his blanket and tiptoed to where Lacerta kept his coffer, clicking it open for a silver quarter. It wasn't stealing. Father did work for which he wasn't paid. Most of the money in the chest belonged to Vi'An's father. Vi'Din just never asked for it and was more content with having a roof to live under.

Vi'An sank into the Umbra, feeling relief at having his body heat stolen amid the southern scorch. Hidden from sight though he was, he tiptoed still. The narrow pass before their abode lay barren. Odd. The sand walls of structures making up the alley were covered in dark red markings as if it were dried blood rather than paint. Even the ground had these strange markings upon them. Something that hadn’t been there when Vi'An and his father had arrived in Katur four and a half years prior. Vi'Din advised caution around the marks. Said they were too similar to the ancient Language of Sacrifice known as Chronary —an unsavory form of magic that required lifespan to be used as a medium.

Vi'An peered down the alley. The stragglers were nowhere to be seen. Feeling no threat, his sense of caution eased. He was only going to grab a delectable treat as he'd done so many times before. Simply sneak up to the kebab stall, grab a few fat dripping sticks when no one was watching, and slip a coin into the shopkeep's pockets. Perfectly moral.

His salivating mouth gave haste to his steps. A strange tingling sensation ran along the surface of his skin beneath his fully covering tight black garments. Vi'An paused, caution and worry creeping into the edge of his thoughts. Since his failure at Izzet, any potential mistake brought with it a boulder's weight in his mind. What if he was doing something wrong? What if his justifications were just illusory persuasions conjured in his own mind by an avaricious appetite? What if Vi'Din declared his moral theft an immoral act?

But it's just a kebab. It isn't killing. It's entirely different…

But what if it was wrong? Wrong was wrong. Levels of wrong didn't make any one wrong act less wrong than something considered more heinous. Stop thinking so hard , a soft voice whispered in his mind. You are a weapon. And a weapon has no use if it is broken. Feeling emotions is a sign of damage .

Vi'An clenched his fists. That voice always returned whenever he felt doubt. Always whispered that same thing over and over until he found his resolve again. It's just a kebab. Nothing wrong.

It was easy to tell that something was wrong. Vi'An looked above at the material world. There was nothing but red markings. Still no people in sight. The alley was nearing its end. He would soon be away from it. His stomach clawed at the drifting aroma salaciously weaving through the vibrant currents of moving citizens, tempting. Vi'An ignored the tingling in his skin, instead paying mind to his anxious and eager taste buds.

“Just a kebab,” he muttered, spittle nearly coming out. There was something strange with the alley. But nothing had happened on his journey out. Nothing would happen during his journey back. He'd be back in bed soon and Vi'Din would be none the wiser.

Vi'An stopped at the alley's edge, locating which shadows he would need to leap to in order to make it to his favourite stall. To his surprise, there was no need for that. He had been too preoccupied to notice storm clouds gathering above. The entire city was engulfed in shadow, making travelling for Shadow Walkers easy.

It hardly rained in Katur. The skies almost never held clouds to begin with. Vi'An shrugged, grateful for the easy passage. He stepped out of the alley, flinching at a sharp tingle that pricked the surface of his entire body as if he'd been shocked by the friction of two cloths rubbing against each other all over. When he looked up again, he was back in the center of the alley. The tingle was replaced by a tugging. Something felt like it was trying to escape Vi'An's body.

Confused, he continued forward, stomach growling. He was fully cautious now, the small voice in his head growing stronger. For once, he felt grateful for it. He needed to be told that he was a weapon to expunge the fear stiffening his joints. Just a kebab. Vi'An reached the exit once more.

And was returned to the middle again.

I am a weapon! the voice in his head cried. It however was not louder than the violent pounding within his chest. The Umbra felt harsher than ever as Vi'An broke into a cold sweat. The heat above was not repelling a creeping bitter chill in the slightest. The voice couldn't triumph over the engine of panic that was now his heart. He ran back towards his home, but each time he reached his destination, he was once again returned to the middle. His fingers and toes turned to blocks of ice. The tugging sensation turned into intense pain. It felt as if his body was being ripped in two.

Vi'An tried escaping into the material world. He managed to poke his head out of the shadows. Before him were many dark hooded men pressing their hands against the markings on the walls, eyes closed and breathing measuredly as if meditating.

When did they get here?

Their outfits were similar to the stragglers save for their cloaks. The cloaks looked too lavish to belong to beggars. They were a dark blue with white specs just as a clear night sky. The cloaks were bound at the base of their neck with a three point star pin. A mark Vi'An recognized. It was something passing soldiers of the Astral Union were known to wear. And the Union were a military force sworn to hunt down darkspawn like Vampires and Shieda.

Vi'An swallowed. Fear kept his joints locked and his mind paralyzed. Further decisions were lost on him. Fighting instincts squeezed mechanical movements from his body. He tried to escape the Umbra. Some part of him was subconsciously aware that remaining within shadows would be the same as being trapped. Someone stomped on his head before he could fully climb out and forced him back into the shadows. The impact hardly registered any pain. What hurt more was the terrible feeling of being ripped apart. It grew in intensity with every drum of the heart until it became unbearable. Vi'An no longer had strength to spare. He screamed as hard as he could, hoarse voice coming out as a shrill cry. He clutched his own body to prevent it from being torn.

***

Vi'Din awoke to an ear splitting scream at the gates of the residence. His sight first went to his son's bed.

Empty.

He snapped himself out of bed, teeth clenched. Twin black iron blades drawn, he stormed out into the alley.

Screams echoed along the length of the passage. Men in night sky cloaks pressed their hands against the blood markings on the wall, focusing intently with their eyes closed. Astral Union soldiers . Vi'Din roared, his raspy voice making it sound like a breathy growl from a lion. The markings were Chronary after all.

Vi'An!

Where was the boy? Thunder rumbled above. Only then did Vi'Din realize that the world was enshrouded by shadow. His sight fell back to the ground. Chronary markings were painted there also. The screams… Vi'An was in there, in the Umbra, somehow stuck.

Vi'Din broke ahead, crying, trying to draw attention to himself. The Union soldiers didn’t break their concentration in the slightest. He rushed the nearest man who knelt on the ground, black swords swinging in a scissor before him.

The soldier lunged back and drew a blade at his waist. Light seemed to emanate from the weapon in the dark alley. It was a blade made of gold alloy, its beginning near the hilt having many sharp points formed in a half circle to symbolize the sun.

Vi'Din tightened his grip around his own weapons. He'd never seen the weapon, but he knew at glance what it was. Its legacy had been passed down in Shieda history for centuries. Some called it Dawnbringer. Others, Daybreak. Its true name was the Thousand Sun Sword. It was the Thousand Sun City's national treasure. The city's name originated from the sword itself. An Artifact that could vanquish darkspawn with flashes of light. It was also rumored to absorb the abilities of its wielder's adversaries.

The screams within the alley grew sharper and higher pitched. Vi'Din dipped into the Umbra, knowing that facing a magical Artifact head on would be foolish. There, he saw his son clutching the sides of his head and writhing around. Chronary magics had him jailed and in torment.

Blood rushed to Vi'Din's head. He charged the Artifact bearer from within the shadows and leapt into the material world, threatening to split his enemy into half. The man jumped back again and parried a thrust Vi'Din threw with his second sword.

The Artifact bearer's hood fell back. Vi'Din hissed. “Lacerta. I should have known.”

The rust haired man gave a wicked smile. He took a stance. His height would have made him seem imposing if it weren't for his rather lanky frame. “You did know. You only grew complacent just as I had planned.”

Vi'Din took a stance of his own, left foot forward and bent with left hand lowered to use his weapon as a parrying tool. Thunder crashed overhead —a paltry sound compared to Vi'An's screams. Vi'Din eyed the walls to his side. Little room to maneuver. And if his son was trapped, chances were, spending too much time in the Umbra would bind him as well. He needed to kill the meditators. And to do that, he needed to kill Lacerta first.

Lacerta who possessed an Artifact. Without the use of shadows, a truth became apparent to Vi'Din. He'd been forced to be a normal person fighting against one armed with magic.

Lightning flashed in the sky, briefly revealing the Thousand Sun Sword's true beauty.

Vi'Din swallowed, feeling the cold of his sweat quickly soaking his black clothes.

***

Vi'An thrashed around his voice now waning and his throat itchy. His air pipe felt restricted. His skin felt as if it were being peeled apart, though it wasn’t in truth. It was a conjured feeling of pain. He reached up with trembling arms. Reached towards the material world. He knew it to be futile. Union soldiers would just shove him back. But still he tried.

He reached the surface only to find it blocked. He could see into the material world but he couldn't access it. There was a ceiling blocking his way. The ceiling he always knew to be there, knew to be open at all times to be used as a gate way to and from the Umbra. He beat against it but to no avail. His limbs were going numb. Air was no longer entering his lungs. Vi'An fell to his knees, hands pressed against the Umbra's pitch black floor, mouth wide open and inhaling. Inhaling near nothing that is. He was stuck in a sea of black, drowning. A pit without escape.

He heard a shout as Vi'Din charged into the alley and clashed with a soldier bearing a golden sword. Lacerta? Their provider of many years had turned against them as Vi'Din had always assumed he would. Vi'An's father clashed with Lacerta, his superior skills forcing the rust haired man backwards, leaving the backs of meditating Union soldiers exposed. Their concentration was interrupted as Vi'Din slew two in a single breath before Lacerta could react.

Vi'An's pain eased an ill slight. He coughed violently and strained to suck in what limited air he was allowed access to. Remembering his training, he steadied his breaths, inhaling air in increments to match his environment. Another level of pain diminished as his father slew another man. He danced with superior skill in the cramped passage of the alley, forcing Lacerta further back.

Vi'An reached up to the world, fingers poking out of the Umbra with effort, as if he were poking through them through a mound of thick mud. A passage was open. But he hesitated. He wanted to help his father, but he feared being in the way. Feared becoming a burden. Despite having regained his mobility, Vi'An's confidence had been shattered. He was just a boy going up against many adults. The gap between him as a Shadow Walker and that of a normal human didn't exist. He didn't feel capable of fighting back. Capable of killing.

I am a weapon a soft voice muttered.

Once more Vi'An recalled the night he'd murdered a child in their parent's home. The wide eyes full of fear and pain. The demands for his death by the child's father. His knees buckled. What if these soldiers had families? What if killing them meant destroying more lives than just the one trying to suppress Vi'An and Vi'Din?

I am a weapon . The voice tried convincing him to stop feeling. To abandon emotion. To just act. But it was too soft. Too weak to overpower his doubts and—

“Vi'An! Run! Run as far away as you can! You must survive!” his father screamed, likely assuming him to be free now that he was no longer screaming.

Vi'An's face ached with pain as he once again found himself desiring humanity, desiring the abilities of shedding tears. Yes. Run. Run away from everything. Running would save him from having to endlessly contemplate his options and past actions.

Vi'An took a step forward. What if he still couldn't escape? His father hadn't slain all the soldiers yet. What if Vi'An left the alley only to be returned to the center again? Fearing captivity again, he rose into the material world behind Lacerta with a grunting effort, developing muscles flexing beneath skin tight clothes. He'd barely taken a few steps when someone tripped him. He felt a knee on his back and a hand pressed his head to the ground. He thrashed about but he was much weaker than an adult and too afraid to access the Umbra.

***

Vi'Din's arms vibrated as he blocked a powerful swing from Lacerta. A line of red emanated from the black blade as it'd been put in a fire. Too few exchanges remained before the golden blade's heat dismantled Vi'Din's weapons.

Lacerta clenched his teeth and swung with renewed speed. Vi'Din barely brought the black swords up from another block, stumbling backwards. His arms vibrated from the shock and increased power. What had changed? How was Lacerta suddenly stronger?

The Thousand Sun Sword can steal abilities and hold them for a number of years.

That was the only explanation. If it truly could absorb the abilities of those it'd killed, then… The blade has recently tasted Vampire blood. That was the only conclusion. A blade gifted to Flame Bearers to fight Heartless had been used to slay one from an allied race. And now, its wielder was utilising the enhanced physical capabilities of Vampires. The rumors from well-travelled merchants regarding a barrier around the Kal'Kar Mountains finally made sense.

The narrow alley was making it difficult for Vi'Din to utilise the full extent of his weapons. From the corner of his eye, he saw his son coming out of the Umbra. Vi'An attempted to run but was brought down by a soldier. Howling, Vi'Din tried striking back at Lacerta with his full might, swinging both swords down in an arc, but he couldn't match the strength provided by the Artifact.

Lacerta blocked the attack with ease, using the strength of only his right hand, with which held the golden great sword.

Frustrated, Vi'Din kicked at his adversary's groin. The man flinched and took a step back. Vi'Din took the opportunity to dip into the Umbra, gambling on the fact that the trap was now flawed.

He reappeared by his son's side and cut down the one that held Vi'An. Roaring as loud as his raspy voice would allow, he began slaughtering as many Union soldiers as he cold. “Run Vi'An! Get out of Katur. I'll come find y—” he cut off as Lacerta now brought the golden sword down in an overhead swing, both hands gripping the hilt. Vi'Din raised both of his swords above his own head in a cross to block, gasping at the immense weight of the attack and falling to one knee, a shockwave vibrating along the length of his leg. He pulled back before his weapons were cleaved clean, rolling away, only to find dagger bearing soldiers charging him while he was still on the ground.

Vi'Din grit his teeth. There was no need to hesitate now. No one meditated on the blood runes. He let himself fall and disappear into the Umbra before many dagger points found him. He then jumped in and out of the shadows, killing man after man. His muscles stiffened with each jump as the Umbra stole violent amounts of his body heat.

Lacerta barked a command. Four men surrounded him, making sure Vi'Din wouldn't be able to appear from the shadows near him. Vi'Din didn't care. He killed everyone else, continuing to use the Shadow World. A sickness filled his chest. His stomach threatened to burst out of his mouth. Frigid air clawed into his marrows. The sole weakness of the Shieda of which only Shieda knew. It was why Shadow Walkers were the perfect assassins, not the perfect soldiers.

Having slain all but the four guarding Lacerta, Vi'Din fell to his knees, vomiting inside of the Umbra. Everything here was black. Even the color of his own vomit. He looked up at Lacerta. The man was looking at the ground, smiling confidently rather than trembling in fear. Why?

Lacerta gripped the hilt of his Artifact and stabbed into the sandy ground of the alleyway. Terrified, Vi'Din scrambled to come out into the material world, sickness still spilling out of his mouth. The Thousand Sun Sword could send fire into the ground. Would the flames touch the Umbra as well?

Better not to take chances. Vi'Din came out of the Shadow World, the sour acidity of his own vomit burning his throat and leaving a horrid taste upon his tongue. He looked up at his enemies a bit more than a dozen feet away from him, his fingers loosely wrapped around the hilts of his damaged swords. Lacerta's guards were no longer near him. He instead stood with knees bent low and ready to lunge.

Vi'Din went rigid in panic, realizing that he'd been baited. Lacerta assumed him to know of the Artifact's abilities and react accordingly. Vi'Din gripped his weapons tight and began bringing them up, too weak to escape into the Umbra. Lacerta lunged, his enhanced physical strength causing him to move at a blinding speed.

Vi'Din slumped forward, pain hardly registering. He leaned against Lacerta, the golden sword protruding from his back. Blood rolled down his chin as his vision began to blur. Lacerta rent the Artifact out as Vi'Din dropped his own swords and stumbled back, the gaping hole in his chest leaking blood and smoke. He turned around, his gaze meeting his son's just as Vi'An looked back one last time to see his father's final moments before turning a corner that led outside the alley.

The poor child was left alone now. Vi'Din dropped to both knees. He couldn't even kill every Union soldier. They would go after his son now. And the child had run outside whilst in the material world, exposing himself to all of Katur. He would be hounded by more than the Union.

“Herein lies Vi'Din of clan Perzada,” Lacerta whispered in the Shadow Walker's ear. “Such a pity. I thought you would have posed a greater threat. All your attention went to your child. And it's going to go in vain. He's scared. He'll run out of the city. Once these storm clouds pass, he'll be stranded in the desert without a shadow to escape to but the high dunes themselves.

“I thank you for this gift, Vi'Din. I thank you for gifting us the power of Shadow Walking. Now, the Lord Sun will not only possess the strength of a Vampire when wielding this blade, but also the ability to traverse the Umbra.”

Lacerta gave Vi'Din a slight shove, letting him collapse to the ground. His body, already feeling cold, became an empty husk as an icy red pool formed around it. Live Vi'An. I wish I could have taught you more. Do not live for vengeance, my son. Live for the Shieda. Live for our truth. I pray to the Flames and the Creator above that you escape these fiends safe and sound.

“Take the sword back to the city. Tell the Master, His Brilliance, that Lacerta sends a most unique gift. One that has eluded us for centuries,” the rust haired man said to his few remaining followers.

“The Lord Sun is not currently residing in the Thousand Sun City. He is in Xenaria,” said a soldier.

“Then go there.”

***

Vi'An ran without turning back. He'd seen it. Seen his father falling to his end. And there was nothing he could do about it. His face ached. I am a weapon. I am a weapon. I am a weapon.

And a weapon had no use if it was broken.

He was broken. He was useless. All he ever had done was cause his father trouble, and that had finally led to Vi'Din's death. Twice now he'd committed a murder. One of a child, the other of a parent. His own parent.

Thunder rumbled ahead. A sea of people scrambled about to quickly get home and avoid the sky's inevitable onslaught. They soon started shouting as Vi'An brushed past them. If his dark grey skin didn’t speak the truth, then his mostly masked face had surely given away his identity. The word 'Shieda' was uttered on many mouths. His path was soon cleared as people backed away from him. Those weak of heart screamed at the sight of him.

He cared not for their cries. He was a cursed child destined to be alone with no friends or family. Vi'An risked looking back just once. Union soldiers were far behind, but they were chasing after him. Their hoods were pulled back. Others from other streets joined them, these newcomers wearing armor with a sun upon hard leather vests. They'd already been lying in wait in the event something went wrong.

Warning drums sounded and patrols of guards brandishing spears and shields poured into the streets behind Vi'An. He was close to the city gates, but they were being closed. He panicked, running harder, strength quickly draining from his already tired legs, lungs burning as he inhaled gulps of hot desert air through his mouth.

Repeated rumblings in the sky reminded Vi'An that a dark ceiling hung overhead. The world was enshrouded. He dipped into the Umbra just as the gates closed, shivering, stumbling. The guards began shouting to each other as they reopened the gates. They poured out of the city and stared into the empty expanse of the desert stretching out from a half mile off of the city. Vi'An finally slowed when he was no longer being chased. He struggled to catch his breath as his feet came to a slow walk, muscles aching. He glanced back, the city a few hundred meters away. Running through the Umbra was faster than running in the material world.

Vi'An's tummy growled as he waited outside of the city. He recalled his original purpose. The greedy excursion that had become tragedy. Let that become a lesson. Greed is not true need. He could no longer go back no matter how hungry now. Everyone knew of his existence. And the Union soldiers had a means by which to trap him.

He fell on his rear. Cold darkness surrounded him. A barren desert threatened to swallow him. And a city full of people either hated or hunted him.

Vi'Din was dead.

Vi'An hugged his knees, feeling terribly lonely. His face hurt more than it ever had. The ache in his chest matched, making the fatigue in his legs a trivial thing. His time for mourning did not last long. Union soldiers were speaking to the city guards that had ran out.

Kill them , Vi'An pleaded in his head. Kill them, please. Or arrest them. Do something. Enforce justice! It's your job… They were evil people. Murderers. He almost climbed out of the shadows to testify against them. But that would never work. No one would ever believe the Shieda.

Lacerta came out, his golden blade no longer in his hands, the scabbard also missing from his waist. He held up documents and an emblem to Katur's guards. They immediately backed away and let the evil men pass. Vi'An's heart sank. It was the Astral Union after all. Every nation gave their legionaries a free pass.

They were pointing in Vi'An's direction even though he was inside of the Umbra. Panicked, he turned and began to run once more. He was already tired. Many of the Union soldiers strode out on the backs of camels or desert horses.

Lightning flashed in the sky. Thunder roared soon after. A soft rain pelted the sand, growing in intensity until it'd become a violent weeping. Vi'An stopped running. Even the sky was permitted to mourn when he was not. He just wanted all the pain to end. He rose out of the shadows and opened his mouth for a drink. His pursuers cried out as he made himself visible to them. I'm sorry father. I couldn't run in the end. I don't want to. I want to be with you.

***

The heat on Aaron's chest continued to grow. The iron pendant burned with every step he took. Confusion. Anger. Fear. A mix of all three emotions welled up within him. Nothing made sense. He searched the hazy corridors for his mother. She needed to know. Orion tried to kill Temelia. Tried to kill him. They couldn't leave Celestial Whispers. Not with such a monster.

Acrid smoke filled the House. Panicked women ran back and forth, shouting. Aaron sprinted up to Lera's room. She wasn't there. He made his way to Mistress Delin's quarters next. Not there either. The thickening grey stung his eyes. His lungs felt ablaze. He tripped over his own feet and fell forward into glass shards from a nearby shattered window, lacerations accruing on his arms.

Aaron stood up and poked his head out the window, inhaling outside air. Half of the air was still smoke pouring out the opening. He hacked out the windowsill, spittle flying from his mouth.

His mother was outside.

Her white dress was marred with soot and an armed mob in spotted dark cloaks surrounded her, weapons pointed her way. “Aaron!” she screamed eyes fixed upon the mob before her. She brandished a long knife to hold back her would be killers. “Aaron!”

Most of the brothel had been emptied by this point. The women of the House stood behind the armed men attacking Lera, all of them muttering and whispering and crying on each other's shoulders. Aaron's other mothers were among them. He met Melyanne's eyes.

“He's up there!” the red haired woman cried. “On the second floor!”

Lera tried breaking past her encirclement, but the armed men wouldn't let her pass. One of them threw a flaming bottle into the broken window. “No!” Lera and Mely shrieked together.

Aaron ducked down to dodge the flying bottle. It exploded behind him and he felt searing pain at small spots on his back. He crawled along the burning floor boards until he reached the stairs. The first floor was set ablaze. Aaron had hardly taken two steps down when part of the ceiling snapped with a sharp crackle and crashed upon the steps before him. Fire roared, stretching its malevolent claws upwards, hot wind blowing against Aaron's face. He fell back as tears rolled down sweaty cheeks. The pendant around his neck was hot, but the heat of the burning building was an agony unrelenting.

He didn't know what to do. He coughed as he cried. Breathing was becoming difficult. Flames across the hallway were approaching the stairwell. He needed to make his way down, but fear kept him fixed on his rear.

“Aaron!” someone called. Melyanne. She tried fanning away the flames with her small book that Aaron had read to her so many a time. It only served to spread the fire. Mely covered her face with her sleeve and inhaled deeply. She ran past the flames and jumped onto the stairwell, forest green dress billowing with her swift movements. The boards groaned under her weight, but they didn't break. “Aaron! Come here. Jump into my arms.”

He stood frozen. He feared that the boards would give away if he went to her. He shook his head. The dark cloak he wore caught fire. His heart pounded against his chest as he tried putting it out with his hands, snapping them away in an instant as the cuts upon them stung even more when touching fire.

“Aaron, come here. Please,” Mely begged. Her eyes were watering. Orange light reflected off their glossy surface. She held her arms out for him. “Lera is outside alone. They're trying to kill her. I don't know why. She needs our help. Please…”

Reluctantly, he took a step. The wooden step let out a pitched creak. Inhaling a large smoke filled breath, Aaron jumped. Mely caught him. The stairwell cracked further and she lost her footing. The two of them tumbled down the remaining steps and rolled across the burning floor. Mely cried out as a burning piece of wood fell upon her face. Regardless, she stood up and pulled Aaron up with her. They both made it outside the burning building just before the doorway cracked and collapsed behind them. Mely fell to her knees. One side of her face had charred, turning black and pink, and there was dark blood rolling down the other half.

Aaron coughed as he hugged his second mother tight. Lera's crying voice caused him to turn around. She was trying to force her way past the armed men. He let go of Mely and turned to attack the men encircling his real mother. For some reason, they weren't killing her, but just holding her back. She somehow managed to cut her way to him because of it.

“It's alright Aaron,” Lera said. “I'm here. Orion will be here soon too. He'll protect us.”

“Ma… no. He-Temelia-he,” Aaron stuttered before hacking again, lungs thick with smoke and phlegm. Lera suddenly gasped and dropped to one knee. There was an arrow protruding from her right thigh. She slowly turned around to see a grinning Orion knocking another arrow, her face twisting into absolute despair.

“Why?” Lera breathed.

“Why?” The emerald eyed man cackled aloud. “Oh, my dear Lera. Don't you know? Loose lips sink ships. You shouldn't have told me what you did, Lera Zz'tai .”

“But… you loved me. Orion. I-I love you still. What about us? What about everything we talked about? What about Aaron?”

“What about him? He's just another Zz'tai, is he not? Your blood is filth. I am the Astral Union's arrow. I am Orion the Hunter. It took over three years. I had to be absolutely certain. You honestly had me second guessing. But then you finally spilled it to me of your own volition. There is no love between us. There never was. Lera Zz'tai. Today you and your son will be judged for the sins of your ancestors!”

Lera glared through her stinging eyes. Eyes welling with anger and anguish.

And memory.

Memories of generations of House Zz'tai. The same memories that Aaron saw when he was angered. Realization struck him as he figured the pendant's purpose. Lera had always talked about memories, though she'd danced around the topic in a rather cryptic manner. It was to protect his developing mind from coming to know the atrocities House Zz'tai had suffered throughout their centuries long tribulations.

Lera stood up with trembling legs.

“Yes. Fight back. Learn the futility of your situation. This world will never heel to your kind again. Your line ends here today!” Orion lowered his hands. “Come now. Come to me. Come and slash my throat,” he mocked.

“Burn you! Burn you and your Flaming zealotry. Three years… Three years spent with me and you still believe we're… still believe that I'm…” Her voice softened to a bare whisper. “That I'm some monster all because of what's now written in existing historical texts.” The grip around her knife strengthened. Lera stepped forward, gripping the hilt of the long knife tight.

Aaron held her arm. “Ma…”

She looked down at him, brown hair blowing in the wind. She pulled a small stone out of her dress pocket and snapped it in two before throwing it away. A strange circle of light appeared, growing in size until it was twice Aaron's height. An image of a different environment appeared. One of sands and rain. It seemed a gate leading to a completely different place than Seldar. “Aaron. On my mark. Run into that. I'll follow you. I promise.”

Orion cocked his head to one side as if not understanding what had happened. His eyes went wide shortly after. ”You! Did you just use a Gatestone?”

Lera slowly stepped towards him, clicking her tongue repeatedly as if measuring seconds. “Now!” she cried.

Aaron swallowed, not knowing what to expect once through the circle. He turned and ran towards it.

“BOY!” Orion bellowed. “You dare run from me?”

A woman's pitched scream stopped Aaron in his tracks. He turned around. One of the Hunter's henchmen dragged a bleeding Temelia forward and dropped her before Orion's feet. She was clutching Aaron's new dark coat, the wound in her shoulder spilling blood onto it. Burning fury exploded inside of him, near matching the searing pain from the pendant around his neck. Ancient memories of death and sorrow buzzed through his thoughts. He howled as he ran past his mother.

“No!” Lera cried.

Aaron's hands curled into a ball. Orion drew his sword and parried the assault with the flat end of his blade, laughing, mocking. Aaron was pushed back and Orion tried to cut off his outstretched arm. Temelia managed to kick Orion's foot from her position on the ground. He lost his balance and the weight of his sword caused him to stumble.

Temelia held out Aaron's coat. “…Go,” she croaked, eyes wet, scarlet lips curled into a melancholic smile. The red upon them was not makeup this time.

“I won't leave—” Aaron began but the emerald eyed man thrust his sword through Temelia's neck. Her eyes rolled back. She died on the spot. “NOOO!” Aaron's attention once again turned to the smiling murderer. Orion pulled his blade free from the side, letting Temelia's head snap the opposite way and remain attached by an inch of flesh.

Something yanked Aaron's collar from behind. Lera dragged him away from Orion. She struggled to push him towards the gate.

Aaron continued to yell and thrash about as he struggled against his mother's grip. She slumped forward and stopped moving. An arrow was stuck in her back. He froze, breath caught in his mouth. “Ma,” he croaked. Orion had once again used his bow. Lera managed a weak smile. She continued to push her son towards the gate. This time, he didn't resist. “Ma… I'm sorry,” he cried.

“It's… alright.” Another arrow struck her. She coughed up blood. “Go. Go Aaron. Carry our… name and… legacy.”

“But—” a third arrow hit. “Ma!”

“GO!” Lera bellowed, her gurgling voice harsher than the burning flames behind her. She pushed her long knife into his hands and ripped the iron pendant from his chest.

A storm of memories flashed before his eyes. With her dying breath, Aaron's mother pushed him into the gate. A bright amber glow appeared on her hand and pierced through his heart, providing a sincere and loving warmth. A warmth he'd last felt in the Shrine of Flames.

***

A strange circle of light appeared before Vi'An. It was of a pale blue light the size of a fist as if a piece of luminite were hovering in the air. The circle grew until it was as large as a normal gateway. Vi'An saw people inside of it. He heard panicked shouts coming from beyond. He thought he was hallucinating. A beautiful woman with lush brown hair was down on both knees, crying.

Behind her was a building lit aflame. Her back had many arrows protruding from them. She clutched a child not much older than Vi'An in her arms. The woman ripped a pendant off of the child's neck and pushed him towards the circle while shouting something. The child was forced back into the circle and he fell onto the wet sand. His face held the look of shock, cheeks already wet before rain washed them. The child stood up and threw a long knife into the circle just as it began closing.

***

Orion continued to taunt Aaron. Baring his teeth, Aaron took a step forward. He meant to return through the circular gate and attack the Hunter. An arrow flew towards him and bounced off of the knife in his hands. The gate was beginning to close. It was too late to go back. With a final scream, Aaron threw the long knife into Seldar. He witnessed it sink into Orion's right eye just as the gate closed.

A brief moment of pleasure. The Hunter was dead. Surely.

But it wasn't enough to stop the tide of emotions from crashing down upon Aaron's heart as rain of this new environment battered his back. He hardly had had anything. What small things he did have, had just been ripped away from him. Everyone he ever loved was gone. Memories of other members of House Zz'tai flooded his mind. He bore witness to all their pains. Watched as all their loved ones died before them. Watched as they themselves, perished. He inherited their emotions. Their fury. Their sorrow. And their desire for justice.

Last of all came Lera's memories, confirming her death. Aaron wailed. He inherited his mother's emotions including her very last ones, her intense feelings of love and sorrow towards him. He finally understood all that his mother had sacrificed just to give him a better life. He saw accounts of her violation. He felt every inch of her torture and humility. A better chance. An opportunity to become King and correct the tainted Zz'tai legacy. She had even given him her inheritance gift. The Amber Flames of Preservation .

Aaron clutched his chest. There was still a dim glow upon it that eventually faded. Lera could have used her Flame to preserve her own life. He had stolen his mother's only chance at living and he didn't even know how to use this new power.

It was too much to bear. The weight of such a burden left to a thirteen year old. He was alone. In the middle of nowhere. Before him was a vast expanse of dunes under a dark sky. Thunder bellowed overhead. All he had with him was blood. Lera and Mely's blood stained his hands and face. His dark coat was soaked in Temelia's blood.

The rain washed it all away. No trace remained of his mothers' sacrifice.

Aaron's own memories meant nothing to him now. Everything was gone. He would never be king. Despite all the horrid memories, he didn't even want to be King. He just wanted his life back. He looked up at the sky and screamed.

“What lies on the opposite end of love?” Father asks me.

“Betrayal,” I answer.

“What is a friend?”

“A potential betrayal.”

“What is kindness?”

“An agenda hidden behind a smile,” I say.

“Whom do you trust?”

“No one.”

“Not even me?”

“Not even you, father.”

“Do you love me?”

“No.”

“And why don't you love me?”

“Because on the opposite end of love lies betrayal.”

“Good. You have learned well. These words are what allows us to survive. Remember them. Carve them into your heart. Recite them when it wavers.”

I remember them. But I have not carved them into my heart. I cannot. Forgive me father. I did love you. And I always will.

—Written in Lera Ignis Zz'tai's diary