Chapter 13 - Slavian Aeterna

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- 5 Years Ago - 

Gate of Tears, Road's End, Tower of Ref, the volcano had many names and none of them particularly good, yet, it was the home of a long standing tradition. For generations since Ref's fall into the sea this was the place where suicidal people went. Not just because it's fame as a plot of suicide, but because of its warden.  As long as the tradition went, there was someone living at the top of the volcano to watch over the dead, to bury them, give honors, and to be their final witness to offer some comforts.  This person was known as the warden.

Slavian found himself as the son of the warden.

The eight year old boy sat on the edge of the volcano's hole kicking his feet back and forth lazily. On the other side a woman talked and engaged with a group of young people. As usual, she asked them to at least stay with dinner. As usual, she managed to talk a couple of them through their emotions to heal and walk away. Also, as usual, a group of them lined themselves up at the hole, and leaped.

Slavian watched them fall into the darkness. There was no impact to be heard at the bottom. It was just darkness and silence. Though his mother and he acted as a witness, there were no tears. He was past that.

"Well, that's that." He whispered, sighing.

He got up and ran around the volcano to the hut they lived in, waving his arms in the wind. 

Slavian smacked the door open in his haste and ran into the single-room building. "No one clung to the side," He reported. He climbed up onto his bedding, near the roof, and sat on the edge kicking his feet.

His mother put dishes into a large warm pot and poured oil into it to scrub clean. She stopped when she heard his words. 

"Damn." His mother sighed. "I was sure they were at least hesitating."

"Nope!" He denied. "No one even reached out."

"Shame," His mother whispered. She took a towel and set to her work.

Slavian frowned. Usually she had more words than that. "You saved some at least, right?"

"I did." She nodded.

Slavian watched her closely. Her movements were slow and weak. He dropped down, his leather shoes barely making any noise as he landed. He stepped up to her. "Are you okay, Mum?"

"I'm fine." She said, more forcefully than she probably meant. 

Unconvinced, Slavian stared at her. She sighed, admitting, "It's hard. That's all. It'll pass." She gave him a warm smile and put wet hands on his face to kiss him, but he recoiled, screaming, and ran.

At this time, their friend Soran-Blood kicked the door open, his arms full of items. The items included clothing and whatever he could get off the dead, which, in this case, included a small curved sword. Night-Blood clung to him, but not harming him. So he placed down the items in a corner, stepped up to the fire, and removed the Night-Blood. He lifted his arms and legs and spun about, exposing the annoyance to the fire closely, and killing it off. The Soran-Blood then took the items and exposed them to the fire in the same way, killing off the Night-Blood that caked itself to them.

"Thank you, Nel'Andra," The woman said.

"Oooh!" Slavian gasped. He hurried up to the loot and pulled the sword out. It was half his size, but Nel'Andra took the sword from him and put it up high. Not to be deterred, Slavian climbed on the chest and the window to reach it, only for Nel'Andra to move it elsewhere. Slavian gave chase, giggling. Again and again, Nel'Andra put it somewhere difficult, and each time Slavian was able to reach it.

Eventually Nel'Andra lifted Slavian by his shirt and put him on the ground, not allowing him to make further attempts. "Aww!" Slavian pouted. "But its so shiny!"

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