Smoke, ash, and flame. A small boy scurried under a fallen crossbeam on blackened knees, seeking respite from the heat of the fire that was consuming his families small home. He could see his mother through the wreckage. She screamed for him.
”Aaron! Aaron!” she shouted hoarsely through coughs as the smoke overwhelmed her. Her words fell only to shrieking as large green muscular arms pulled her into the dark. The boy cried, tears making gray tracks through the soot on his face. The only sounds, the roar of the flame and a rhythmic
THUNK! THUNK! THUNK! An axe burst through the wall of the house, followed by a boot. The strong arm’s of Aaron’s father pulled him from the wreckage.
Aaron woke in a sweat, chest heaving. His wife Illenya stirred in the fur blankets next to him. He had not had that dream in nearly a year. They had lost his mother that night, nearly twenty years ago. Illenya rolled over and propped on a shoulder.
”Nightmare, love?” she asked. She was gorgeous and pale, with the same blonde hair that Aaron himself had. Like all residents of Trunau, both Aaron and his wife had rough hands. It was cold and Aaron stood to put a few more logs on the fire.
”Just the fire again.” he said to her, giving her a reassuring smile. This was one of several recurring nightmares that Aaron had. Another involving a counter raid five years ago when he had been forced to use his hope knife to slit open the veins of his wounded father and spare the middle aged man capture. He was surrounded by the memories of loss. As it was in Trunau. This house was the very one that had burned down when his mother died. His father had rebuilt it, as had Aaron himself when it had been put to the torch again just a year before. The blade he had used to kill his father was resting beside his wife on her nightstand. The fire rekindled Aaron looked on his wife in the low light and flickering shadows. She held open the blankets and said
”Come to me.” He fell into her loving embrace.
The next months were same as the last. Aaron worked in the fields, and Illenya worked in the tavern. At the end of a long day Aaron would go to the tavern and Illenya would bring him a bowl of whatever they happened to be serving that night, then she would sing. Oh she had a lovely voice. She would sing to uplift the spirits of all, but she always waited for him to arrive, and Aaron felt like she was singing only for him.
The bell sounded, Illenya’s singing cut short. An Orc raid was coming. Men and women alike rushed to the palisade. It was dark, the throng of people pushed Aaron and a spear was shoved into his hands. He followed the group scanning the crowd for Illenya, but did not see her. The night raged on, he stood with his fellow townsfolk against the Orcs, killing and defending against their vicious assaults. The morning came, he was bloodied and tired, walking back up the cliff towards the town, Sara Morninghawk approached him. She spoke in a somber tone, ”Aaron, Illenya is among the fallen this night. I am sorry.”
His throat welled up. She could not be gone. He rushed to the square where the bodies were laid out. A medic was attending her, Aaron shouted through his tears. ”Get away from her!” Her clothes were bloodied but her face was unmarred, it was apparent to him that she had had to resort to using her hope knife. A voice not his own spoke into Aaron’s mind. ”Something beautiful. Something torn from your hands.” the sound in his mind was unconcerned like someone uncaringly looked down at him, saw his plight and shrugged. He let out a gut wrenching sob, falling to his knees he screamed. ”I’m not ready for you to die!” the sorrow shook his whole body and he knew not how long he knelt there holding her hands. Eventually the cleric lay his hand on Aaron’s shoulder and said, ”I’m sorry but we must prepare her for the funeral pyre.” Aaron brushed the man’s hand aside, hoarsely responding. ”I’ll do it”
In a daze he lifted his fallen wife and walked with her body back to their home. Laying her on the bed he cried more, clenching his teeth and stammering through the tears. ”You can’t leave me here like this.” The voice in his head returned.
”This day will end with a life complete.” it whispered
He continued to talk to Illenya ”This is not all that you are.”
”This day will end with a life complete.”
”I don’t want to say goodbye yet.” he choked back sobs.
”You wanted to know if it was worth all the pain it has caused you.” the voice grew menacing.
”My closest friend, my love, my wife, here in front of me.”
”Both of your lives, subtract one life, to know why it is you deserve this.”
We wished for her to live, more than he had ever wanted anything in his life. His soul was her’s his life was her’s she wasn't meant to die before him.
”We can bring her back!” the voice shouted.
The corpse stirred. Aaron looked up, a hope in his heart, had the god’s answered his prayers? Illenya drew breath! But she didn’t, his eyes growing wide in horror, Illenya’s eyes, soulless. She turned toward him, with no recognition in her lovely face. ”No, no no.” Aaron stammered unsure why this horror was visiting him further. ”NO!” he shouted, taking a candle from the hearth and throwing it onto his bed. The furs went up in flames, consuming the undead body of his beloved.
For the third time his house burned down. Aaron felt a new and bizarre power within him. A kinship with the dead. With hollow and sunken eyes he sat watching the house burn.
