Chapter 58: Goodbye Darling (Marak)

The lonesome tree at the top of the hill overlooks the field of tents and tired soldiers. The snow becomes thinner as the days fly by. Yet none are willing to move on. I wonder how far I can really go. Can I really push into their capital, kill their Empress, and win this war?
No, I am asking the wrong question. I should ask if there is a point in continuing. It will end, it needs to end. But I can end it on my terms. I know I won’t see the future or what it will hold, how we can even rebuild from this bloodshed.
My thumb traces over the etchings of May’s belt buckle. Its rough edges are soothing, even if it carries with it so much grief. My last gift to her, and the last gift my dearest friend ever made. It should give me fond memories of my time with them when both were alive.
Yet the more I look at it, the more I remember my time in chains. A slave for an uncaring people. I carried it for too long! The memories, the wounds, everything! I don’t even know why anymore. Maybe it is because I want to honour my daughter’s memory?
No… this isn’t the memory of my May. She deserves better than to have her memory tied to my war. Though at the same time, it is hard to remove her from it when her murder drove this entire crusade against their kind.
Was I a good father? Was I even a good man? I don’t know… I can’t tell anymore. Maybe I’ll never know. I pushed my son away. I became something utterly different. Even my own reflection frightens me. If May looks at me, can she even proudly hug me? Can she even recognise me? What about Dust? My friend and someone whom I can consider a father. Would he even be proud of what I have become? Perhaps it is best that I never know. Even if those questions eat away at me.
There is a point in our lives where we have to accept that our time has come. When we get there, we have to let go of some things to appreciate the life we had. I suppose I am at that point. I need to let go and accept that my life is nearing its natural end.
I put May’s belt buckle back in my pocket so I can dig a hole near the base of a tree with my good hand. It is alone, its trunk slim like it is ready to blow over. It is a poor sapling growing in these harsh conditions. Maybe it will thrive and become something more, who truly knows. But I think it is an appropriate second tombstone. I pull the belt buckle out of my pocket to give it one last look. With a soft kiss, I bury it. I buried my daughter’s body; it is now time I should bury her memory. She deserves to rest; she doesn’t need to fuel my resolve anymore. So many died because I wanted you back, I slaughtered so many because I believed it was justice. But all I was able to achieve was tarnish the good you brought into my world, twisting it for my aims. It is wrong, and I am so, so sorry.
I love you, May, but it is time I say goodbye.
Jackle approaches me, his crossbow slung to his side. ‘Wrong time?’ He says to me in a gruff tone.
‘No, it isn’t.’ I turn to face him. ‘What do you need?’
‘We need a plan, Marak. We can’t just sit here and do nothing!’ Jackle takes a step towards me. ‘Marak, we lost our momentum. The Cinari are gaining ground and pushing us back.’
‘I know,’ I mumble. Jackle stares at me in confusion, baffled at what I just said. He needs an explanation; he deserves it at least. ‘I’m calling an end to this. The war will be over soon.’
‘What!? So we are surrendering, giving up?’
‘No… I want to make peace.’
Jackle growls, baring his teeth as his grip tightens around his crossbow. ‘How can we have peace if our brothers and sisters are still in chains? Why should we end a war right now when we are still slaves?’
I let out a sigh. ‘I’ll buy us freedom.’
Jackle snarls, bearing his teeth at my response, unconvinced by what I mean. I can’t blame him.
‘The Cinari will want a deal,’ I explain. ‘We burned down towns, cities, and their farms. We have wounded them beyond repair, but we can make them talk. However, they need someone to take the fall, I know they will not accept peace if I represent our people.’
Jackle raises a crossbrow, ‘so who will?’
‘Alex.’ I bluntly reply.
He stares at me for a moment, unsure if what I am saying is insane or out of character. ‘He has a soft spot for the Cinari. Why do you think he will represent us? Is it because he is your son?’
‘It is because he is the only one I know who cares about building a future. It is because I can’t. I can’t build something that I deeply want to tear down. How can I lead our people if the only thing I want is to destroy the world? We deserve better than that, you all deserve better than me.’ I reach for my pocket and give him a scroll. ‘I need you to deliver this to him. It’ll tell him everything he needs to know.’
Reluctantly, Jackle slings the crossbow to his side as he takes the scroll from my hand. He turns to face the camp, frowning as he knows he will need to leave. In truth, I suspect him to hesitate and question me further and beg for me to keep fighting. To get revenge for a people who rightfully deserve it. Yet he didn’t. He puts the scroll in his pouch with a sense of purpose. Perhaps he supports Alex’s ideals from the start? I don’t know. I’m just happy he will deliver the message to my son.
‘You’re heading out soon? Going to mutual ground to discuss peace?’ Jackle asks.
I nod, ‘I’ve already sent the word out to them. I already took steps for our army to cease all offensive operations. I propose to meet at the southern tip of the Lance Mountains, but the Cinari want to meet us at Shepherds Hill.’
Funny, I never imagined myself saying those words. It would make me sick to my stomach if I heard what I just said months ago. But for some reason, it feels right. It feels good to know that I am taking steps to facilitate peace between our peoples.
‘I wish you luck, Jackle.’
‘What about the prisoners?’ He responds. ‘What will you do to them?’
‘We will free them during peace talks, to show them our goodwill that we are willing to listen and end this damn war.’
Jackle nods with a subtle smile as he heads off. As if he is happy to hear I am taking steps in the right direction. ‘I wish you luck, Marak.’
I wave the man off as I lean against the tree, inhaling and exhaling. My breath is calm, my heart steady, while I try to prepare myself for the coming days. When Alex gets my letter, I wonder what his thoughts will be. There is no chance in hell that I can repair the damage I inflicted on our relationship. But I hope the actions I am taking are enough to convince him about how sorry I am, how wrong I am about this entire war.
In turn, it makes me wonder. Perhaps I was necessary for the war to happen. This war needed a butcher to face the Cinari and their magical engines of war. My people needed someone willing to fight without a care in the world. I can’t imagine someone like Alex uniting our people at the start of this war. He is a brilliant man, but he can never be the symbol of an uprising. That has to be me!
Yet, I am not right for the future of our people. I am a soldier, someone who can get people to kill with me and for me. I don’t know how to build, to lead the way Alex can. If I am the symbol of an uprising, he will be the symbol of our future. If there is someone who can give our people something to aspire towards. It will be him.
His willingness to work with the Cinari passionately from the beginning will always be strange to me, but now I understand more than ever that his ideals aren’t naïve but hopeful. His hope will be the thing that will bring our people together, maybe even have the Cinari welcome him with open arms.
But if it fails, if peace can never come true. He already proved himself capable of fighting back. Alex figured out a plan to take down their sky demons; he formulated strategies that ensured my victory. Looking back, all of our greatest victories were because of him, not me. I am just the one charging from the front.
It makes me laugh, finally realising that it was Alex who should be given all the credit for freeing our people, not me. One day, the future will look back and smile on his soul. Even if it means I will forever look like a monster.