Life—a funny thing. A strange concept. Like hot and cold, fire and ice.
With a hand pressed firmly against a tree trunk, Lydus took an unsteady breath before rounding the corner and gazing at Emmelia, who now sat against another tree. The forest felt quieter. Stiller than usual. His eyes drifted upward, settling on the sunrise and how its hues of blue and purple rippled across the world.
"I'm sorry you had to kill," Lydus finally said. Emmelia looked at him, startled. They had walked a mile or so away from the ridge. The forest seemed endless, and they were now near the base of the mountains. "It's, uh..." He searched for the right words. "...that was my first time killing too. I didn't really think about it, and it's still not weighing on me, but..." Lydus glanced at the pile of stones where his brother's body now rested and closed his eyes. "...you're a good person, Emmelia. Much better than me, and..."
"Not right now." She cut him off. "Let's focus on your brother, okay?"
Lydus nodded, silent, and with a sigh, he pulled a jagged piece of flint and a broken shard of steel from his armor.
"We'll use this," he muttered, watching as Emmelia shakily rose to her feet. He couldn't help but lower his gaze to the muddy ground. Everything felt wrong—so wrong. With heavy, sunken steps, he trudged toward the pile of stones. Alex's body was ghostly pale now, his skin cold to the touch. Lydus's eyes watered as he took in every detail of his brother's face. It was calm—eyes closed, mouth slightly open. Gently, he reached forward with two fingers and closed it.
Noticing his hesitation, Emmelia placed a warm hand on his shoulder. "He was an amazing kid... so well-behaved. Funny, like you," she began weakly. "Your spitting image, and—"
"I wasn't enough to help him," Lydus interrupted. Emmelia opened her mouth to protest, but he shook his head, silencing her. Holding the flint and steel close to the wood and lint piled around the stones, he sighed deeply. "I love you, Alex," he whispered, his voice barely audible. Then he struck the materials together.
A spark, but no fire. He tried again. And again. And again. Finally, an ember caught, spreading until flames rose around the boy's still form, frozen in time.
Lydus stepped back a few feet to avoid the smell. God, the smell was awful, but at least the cold dulled his senses. The fire crackled softly, its light casting a warm glow on their faces. Smoke billowed into the air in a cloud of gray, mingling with scraps of Alex's clothing that refused to burn completely.
He collapsed against a tree and slid into a sitting position, while Emmelia remained standing. Lydus knew they would have to move soon. The smoke would alert the soldiers to their position. But for now, he had a moment—a brief reprieve to think, to plan. Yet all he could do was rest his hand on his chin and watch the firelight, blurred by tears that swallowed his gaze.
"It's strange, isn't it?" she murmured, her voice barely above the crackle of the fire. "How something so warm can feel so cold."
Lydus blinked, but didn't respond, didn't trust himself to. Instead, he ran a hand through his hair, the dampness from the night's mist still clinging to it. His fingers trembled slightly, but he ignored it, focusing instead on the fire as if the answers to everything could be found in its embers.
Emmelia crouched beside him, not close enough to touch, but close enough that he could feel her presence. She seemed smaller now, like the weight of the forest, the fire, and the loss had diminished her. Her usually steady gaze faltered, and she stared into the flames as if afraid to look anywhere else.
"He deserved better than this," Lydus muttered. "He deserved... more."
"He deserved you. And he had you. Don't forget that."
Lydus didn't respond. How could he? The words felt hollow, like an echo of something that should bring comfort but instead only deepened the ache in his chest. He shifted uncomfortably, the cold mud beneath him seeping through his clothes, and he let out a long, shaky breath.
The flames crackled louder for a moment, embers floating upward and disappearing into the smoke-filled sky. Lydus's gaze followed them, and for a fleeting second, he imagined Alex's spirit among them, rising and vanishing into the heavens. It was a foolish thought—childish, even—but it steadied him somehow.
"We can't stay much longer," Emmelia said, breaking the silence. "If they find us—"
"They won't," Lydus interrupted. He pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly before planting his boots firmly in the mud. "Not yet."
Emmelia looked up at him. She didn't argue, didn't push him. She simply nodded and rose as well, brushing dirt from her knees.
Lydus took one last look at the fire, before turning away, his shoulders slumping as he began to walk, Emmelia close behind.
Nothing felt real. Not the biting cold, nor the faint rustle of the forest, nor the way his boots clung to the mud with every step, as if the earth itself wanted to hold him back. The world around them was muted. Like a dream half-forgotten.. And deep inside, both of them wished none of it was real. That this nightmare would dissolve into the morning light. But it wouldn't. It couldn't.
Now, they only had one thing left to do: check for any remaining survivors.7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZ3S4YYdGYc
