The seas were rather quiet tonight. The gentle breeze and lazy ripples of the ocean flowed carelessly like children playing amongst themselves. The clear sky allowed the moonlight to dance on the water carefree and with jubilance. Valin sat beside the wrapped Justean, sorrow liquid dripping from his eyes peacefully onto her. Zolton rested against the gunboat’s border, between wheel and mortar.
“Why’d you do it, Zolton?” Valin questioned, slumped against the border of the boat behind the wheel. “Why’d you kill that guy?”
“I’m not sure…” Zolton brought his head up, “I don’t know what came over me. I don’t think he deserved to die… but for some reason, I can’t bring myself to regret it.”
Valin stared at Zolton for a moment. “I wanted to kill him too… in hindsight, I’m not sure I even could or if I would be able to live with myself knowing my hands were the cause of another’s death. I probably wouldn’t have been able to even go through with it, or end up getting my ass handed to me in the process. I suppose it was simply blind rage for me… pretty gruesome way to find out that you’re a wizard, but spellslingers aren't all that uncommon. But what I’m trying to ask is why did you do it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why did you feel the need to avenge Justean like that? On her behalf? Mine? I know we’re friends, but the way Cyro was after you were finished with him was just… why?”
“I never told you guys how I lost my mother, huh? Long story short, she was pulled into the Grand Navy and killed because they were careless.”
“What do you mean they were careless? Er-well, if you want to go into the detai-”
“Yeah, guess I have to. Can’t just leave it blurry. They overestimated the strength of the division she was put into. In a way, they were not entirely wrong… if we’re going to be technical as shit. But when we look at the reality of the situation, it was a massive loss, a real stupid ass decision. They didn’t even send a hundred soldiers to cover an entire island and protect a sea lock… enchant? Whatever it’s called, they were keeping it away from pirates.”
“You mean a sea curse?”
“Yeah, that's what I think my dad called it. He told me about them once. Most of the soldiers there were wiped by a massive raid, including my mother, Zaltanya. The only thing the Grand Navy gave as reparation for all the people they threw away because of their incompetence was a ‘sorry, the rest of you can go home now because we feel bad… unless you want to stay... ’ bastards.”
“Oh… That’s rough... Hurts to hear that.”
“I’m not the one that was directly hurt by it, though. In a way, me not ever knowing my mother probably did me a bit better. My father on the other hand was hit hard. Ever since I was a kid, he would talk about Zaltanya as if she was alive and how she would be coming home eventually from somewhere, out of the blue. The whole thing really screwed with him. This may just be his personality, but when me and him would fight, well, train with each other he would often lose himself. Sometimes it seemed like he really was trying to kill me. I think he would forget the difference between us having fun and him in war. Or maybe he blames me for her passing… who knows.”
“I’m… sorry, I’m sure he doesn’t place any fault on you. He’s just struggling to cope with it. And I don’t mean to seem cold, but if you never, uh--knew her, why do you…”
“Why did I react the way I did? Because they hurt my father. They took the one thing he held dearly and tore it apart without a care in the world. What did they do to make up for that? Send him home because they felt bad. And even then, gave him no support. I don’t want anyone else to experience that shit he did.”
“Is that why you felt the need to avenge Justean?”
Zolton paused as he fixated on the moonlit water. “I guess… in a way. Killing Cyro wasn’t bringing her back… of course I knew that when I lost my sense of humanity. Maybe I’m just selfish. Did I just have a bloodlust for the first time in my life? Maybe I’m a monster. Who knows? If I’m a monster in the eyes of evil, then I don’t really feel all that bad about it.”
“Sounds purely subjective… And if that’s the case, it can’t be the whole truth, right? Do you think the G.N is objectively bad? I get that the raid was a horrendous mistake they made and it cost many families, including your own, loved ones, but don’t you think they learned from that?”
“Their whole shtick is acting as the keepers of peace, right? Of course that’s a good-no, a fantastic thing. But their means of doing so? Their wise strategies? Sending a few dozen people to defend this almighty enigma of the sea from thousands of murderers seeking the very thing? The very people they exist to defend against? Genius, I must say. Oh, just a little oversight, no biggie.”
Valin appeared grim. “I know, but… I’m not trying to be condescending, but what are you going to do about it? What will you be able to do against an entire military department?”
“I’ll have to bring up my own.”
“You want to start your own military!?” Valin jumped, eyes wide like a mad man, “Are you crazy, man! You truly believe you can just go and upstart an entire army-”
“No,” Zolton bucked in, “I don’t believe that I can start my own military, nor was that ever my intention. I’m gonna protect what I can, which can at least be this side of the seas around Auxuth… at least in the future.”
“How do you expect to have people follow you? They aren’t going to just give up the Grand Navy’s protection for a random dude.”
“Of course not, Valin. That’s why I have to expand myself. Do you really think I expected people to just believe my word one day? Hell, most of them feared me even when I was a kid! I have to gain their trust, I know that. The best way to do that in this world is with strength, right? Especially when it’s great and used to defend the weak. People can feel safe around you.”
“I don’t know, Zolton…” Valin quavered as he shaked his sweaty head with disapproval, “This is crazy… I think you should just stick with normal life…”
“I already threw away that opportunity when I killed Cyro in my anger. Calway is a respectable guy. He seemed very critical of his position, so I’m sure he has to tell his superiors the truth. Even if he did say he was going to lie, which I doubt he’s capable of. He just doesn’t seem like someone who can. Not that I want him to, especially not on my behalf.”
The gunboat came to an abrupt, rough stop. It rested on black sand shining in the light of the moon. When looking to the ends of the island, the ocean was not too far.
“Well, we’re here,” Valin murmured, setting up a ramp on the edge of the boat closest to the land. He lifted the wrapping his sister and dragged himself sorrowfully. “This is it, Zolton. This is me and Justean’s homeland, Karo. Might as well be wilderness. Just follow me.”
They trailed through a bit of a vibrant forest. The cold white light of the night sky’s celestial orb provided some shine through little openings between the foliage. It almost looked as if the light danced sometimes. Soon enough the forest vanished and what came was a nice open flatland with a little house sitting at the center. Behind the old house was a path that led to a hill. The exterior walls were painted an institutional white, but the home was clearly aged. Dried and weathered paint sprinkled the base of the house, tracking its mostly cubic perimeter. It almost looked like snow… very artificial snow. Plates on the roof were missing near the edges. Many of the remaining parts were broken in some way and the fallen slept on the ground at the house’s base.
Valin carried Justean into the home. The wood flooring made itself known with each step. It creaked and groaned loudly as if ready to give away at any moment. The creaking grew distant and stopped for a while. Then, it became audible again and grew nearer. Valin exited the old house with a face of even greater gloom and a quilt thrown over his shoulder. He called Zolton to follow him with a simple dip of the head towards the hill sitting a distance behind the home. The pathway was simply of dirt and it trailed from the foot of the hill all the way to its highest point. A dead volcano could be seen at the far end of east Karo. At the top, there were three gravestones placed beside one another with a pile of stone slabs set far aside. The carvings ingrained on each stone seemed to be done by hand. They read, “Melassis Falway, Melody Falway,” and “Marlo Falway,” respectively. Valin set down Justean on some dirt aside, grimacing as she made contact with it, despite being wrapped. He grabbed a shovel stuck in the ground beside the grave of Melassis and began digging a hole to the left of hers.
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“Got another one?” Zolton asked, eyeing a shed down the other side of the hill.
“Yeah, there should be more in there. I see you looking at it. You can take a look around the shed if you want, although there isn’t much. While you're there, can you bring a headstone? There also should be a hammer and a shard-shaped iron item on a table,” Valin informed as he drove the shovel into the dirt again. There was no path going down the other side of the hill, but the steepness was a lot more gentle than the way from the house. The shed was, surprisingly, in better shape than the home. Zolton searched the shed, keeping his head low for the entire duration of his search. He found a hammer and an iron pick on a table. Above that table were two family photos hung on the wall along it. The one on the left had a family of seven; two grandparents, a mother and father, and three children. The one on the left had only the grandparents and two the children appeared to be in their teenage years. Zolton gazed at it for a moment before continuing on with his task.
I better not take too long to get back. Don’t want Valin thinking I’m being slow just to skip out on the manual labor.
At the back of the shed rested a shovel against the wall beside a window. The moon was peculiarly bright now. It shined a blue tinge through the window, illuminating the shed a fair bit, but positioned most precisely onto the shovel. He collected the necessary items and headed back to the hill peak. As he trekked up the hill, though, Zolton noticed the moon was not any different than when he first left. The sky was a bit clearer, but the moon did not seem to be any closer. As soon as his foot first crossed the unseen line between him and Valin’s acknowledgement he was questioned, “Did you see that?”
Goosebumps slightly covered Zolton. He gazed at Valin for a brief moment - which mimicked minutes - before finding a word. “Y-yeah…”
Valin drove the shovel into dirt beside the developing grave. “It was like a slow flash… Arrived suddenly but left so slowly. Maybe that was Justean,” Valin grinned as his eyes locked onto the clean sky. They began to become watery, but he put an end to it with a quick wipe of them.
Zolton observed Valin, who lowered his head in an attempt to conceal his dejection. “You sit the rest of this out, Val. I’ll finish it up.”
“I’m good,” Valin rejected, forcing himself over to the tools and headstone, “I’ll work on this…”
As he repeated the motions of shovel in, shovel out, Zolton would often eye the other three graves. He would disregard them for a moment and then return to his digging. It wouldn’t take long for him to wonder again. Eventually, it got the best of him. “Where’s everyone else on the island? I know that it’s late but I didn’t really see any docked boats or anything.”
Valin hesitated to answer for a moment. “There aren’t many of us here. I think...”
“What? What does that mean?”
Valin sighed. “I don’t really have a reason not to hide anything, do I? Might as well get it out. As you can tell, this place is pretty remote. There used to be an okay population of people here, at least for the size of this little place. A few hundred or so. Me and Justean were born in our grandparents house, the one we stopped at earlier a bit away from the foot of the hill. We lived a normal life, y’know… at least for people who live in Karo. Getting up, catching some animal to be slay and prep for cooking all before we were even nine. Our parents weren’t with this primitive lifestyle. I would have to agree with them. Justean and I knew they hated living here. Our dad was born in this house and a day wouldn’t pass by without you hearing his utter contempt for Karo. Or at least, one didn’t pass where I didn’t hear him referring to this place as a ‘pile of shit left to bake in the sun and rot in the night,’ or anything else along those lines.”
Zolton tossed a shovel of dirt to the side. “Why didn’t you guys leave?”
“Well, besides having no means of doing so for a while, my grandparents were very against ‘forsaking the homeland!’ They despised the way their son belittled this place. They loved it here and I’ve still yet to learn why. There is nothing here but wild animals and dirt! I mean, sure there used to be some towns here and there, but almost nothing on this island was manufactured by someone who actually slept a night here. Not that I recommend anyone do so.”
“So… where are they now? Your parents and grandparents?”
Valin set the tools down and seemed to take a descelating breath. “Gramps and Grandma died maybe five or six years ago. Can’t say I’m too upset about it. Hell, I was kind of… relieved. A huge weight off my shoulders. Before they died, Karo was on the brink of collapse. Apparently under the dirt on this pile of dog shit of an island was a raw mud-like material called Bulwarkite. Well, at least that’s what the SGS Pirates called it.”
Zolton paused his shoveling. “SGS Pirates?”
“The Struggle-Grind-Shine Pirates. It’s a crew founded by King Blassa’dahl.”
“A king, huh?” Zolton added, removing the last few scoops of dirt.
“Only thing he’s the king of is narcissism. No, he isn’t royalty, that’s just what he goes by. As I was saying, this Bulwarkite was abundant beneath the surface of Karo and somehow the SGS knew about it before anyone here did. Apparently it’s also very profitable - one of Blassadahl’s favorite things in the seas, so to Karo he came. He didn’t mess with us much, which isn’t really surprising seeing as we don’t have much of anything to our name here. He sent his men to extract the Bulwarkite and that was mostly… fine. Some idiots decided to act ballsy and defend something they had zero knowledge of. Of course, they got hurt, but thankfully not killed. Odd since Blassadahl usually is usually a ruthless asshole… regardless, good things came out of his raid. Most of us Karoans realized just how meaningless we are. A single pirate crew just came in, took what they wanted from us, and left like they just went to the damn store! Hell, we couldn’t even compare to that! At least shopkeepers get paid!”
Zolton ascended the hole, stepping out of it. Valin recollected himself with a breath.
“My bad, got off topic… As I was saying, it was as if we didn’t even exist. Many of us finally got the awakening we deserved and found our way off this place. People began constructing rowboats here and there since they were easiest to make without running the chance of having too many defects. Even then, many of them didn’t make it too far. Luckily for us, a little Grand Navy sailboat found this shit hole and came back a day later with more ships to get us out of here. Just a few hours after that, Karo went from a population of about two hundred to twelve or so; Justean, me, our grandparents and some other stubborn dwellers of this god forsaken of pile dirt and rock. To no surprise, our parents weren’t part of the twelve.”
“What? What happened to them? Why didn’t the rest of you go?”
“They were amongst the majority that took off. I’m sure you saw the pictures in the shed. There used to be seven of us in this house, but that turned to six just a few weeks before Blassadahl came. Our little sister came down with some disease. We didn’t know what it was, but it just seemed like it was just a bit of coughing. Didn’t take long for it to turn into a full blown fever. Regardless, we couldn’t do much of anything… We don't exactly have medicine other than primitive remedies that only the old bastards know how to make. Take a guess, do you think they worked?”
Zolton froze for a moment before giving a decline with a slow, awkward shake of the head.
“Ding, ding, ding! You guessed it!” Valin threw his arms up with irritation before letting them drop carelessly, “Little Melody, dead and gone because of this damn place. That was the final straw for our parents. They got on those navy ships and took off. Justean and I, we were… stuck here. Not much twin ten year olds can do, especially dumb ten year olds. Our parents we’re going to take us but I guess we were just brainwashed by our grandparents. We thought that we wanted to be here even though it was clear we didn't nor was it in our best interest. Mom and Dad weren’t missing the one opportunity to get out of here. Can’t say that I blame them… I blame myself for being so damn stupid.”
Zolton's fist gripped the shovel handle tightly, nearly crushing the wood. "You blame… you? Why? I guess I can understand you not putting it all on your parents, but why do you let your grandparents off the hook?"
"I don’t. I still… respect them, maybe a little too much for what they made us go through just because of their beliefs? Maybe I'm still as much a dumbass now as I was back then, just older."
"All that means now is that stupidity is less excusable," Zolton added with a stern and powerful gaze. Valin gave a reluctant nod of agreeal. Zolton shook his head with shame. "So, you're alone now?"
Valin gave another nod, except it was quite a dreary one. "Parents are gone, Gramps and Granny are gone, Melody is gone, and Justean… is gone. It’s time that I fulfill my duties here. I’ve tried delaying this for too long..."
Valin spread the quilt from the house on the ground. It was a simple design, square patterns with what looked like trees at their centers. "This was made by Grandma Melassis for Justean when we were kids. Justean loved this thing and was pretty bummed when we left for Auxuth without it. She would say to make sure this went with her whenever she died…" Valin began to choke on his words as the flood gates in his eyes opened once more, "I just wish she was burying me instead so that I wouldn't have to deal with th-this shit! N-no... that’s selfish… I’m sorry, Justean.
Valin unfolded the corpse covering. Grief recoiled him as his eyes crossed her, cold and unmoving. Just lift her onto the quilt… his mind guided, but his body refused. He watched her again, but this time locked his eyes onto her and rejected the body’s overwhelming urges to turn away. Instead, his mind vehemently kept focus on her, and her alone.
Does she deserve to just lay here out in the dirt? With no proper burial? Do I just turn around and go the other way because I’m too much of a pansy to give my sister a rightful resting? Am I saying she deserves to just sit out for day and night to tamper with her? Do I want that?
And then it all complied. Mind revealed reality to the body and the body realized its wrongs. Mind once again sent the orders to the body, and it listened. He lifted his sister from the raggedy wrapping and set her into the thing she held dearly. Valin wrapped the quilt around Justean properly, assuring it provided her the same feeling as his hug for an eternity. He raised her from the ground and carried Justean into her final bed. With her properly laid to rest, Valin set one smooth, rectangular slab of stone above the grave. Together, he and Zolton shoveled the dirt onto the stone slab until it was completely buried. And finally, the headstone was set upon the grave, completing the burial. Valin gazed at the grave for a moment, absorbing some wisdom it seemed to be providing him. At this, he smiled. He smiled joyfully and leaked tears of the comforting feeling onto sediment which sat above his sister. With this newfound knowledge gifted to him, he was ready to leave. He knew that his sister would not be away from him forever and that he would meet her. Even when it seemed as if it would take eons to traverse the rest of his time, he knew at the end of his days his life would blur into mere seconds.