Chapter Text
Year 59
“But Thjazi, why can’t I stay with you?” a sixteen-year-old Azune asks, walking up a cobbled street in Dol-Makjar side by side with Thjazi.
“It’s part of the pardon, Kid. They’ll only issue it, if you won’t be associated with me anymore. It’s already been hard to convince them to let you stay with my brother, but luckily, he’s a respected member of the society here,” Thjazi chuckles, “and if you come with me, you’ll never have a normal life. Now is your chance to get that. Don’t throw it away.”
Everything in Azune resists talking back to a superior, but he can’t just take this. He needs to stay with Thjazi, and he needs to convince him of that. He doesn’t really have any arguments, though. They’re not fighting anymore, so what use would he have to anybody? He just doesn’t want to be left behind again.
“I don’t want a normal life, if that means parting ways with you,” Azune states, hoping to sound more adult and steadier than he feels. “I’m of no use here.” He stops walking. “Nobody here needs to someone to fight.”
“And that right there is the reason for you to stay with Hal. You’ll be able to learn things besides fighting. Connect to other kids your age,” Thjazi says, there’s an edge to his voice that Azune can’t quite interpret.
“Come on, we’re almost there.” Thjazi wraps an arm around Azune’s shoulders and pulls him along. The height difference between them is not as big anymore as when they first met, he already reaches Thjazi’s shoulder now.
The people they’re passing stare at them unabashedly. He doesn’t know what to do with that. He’s not used to be around anybody than the Torn Banner. Is that normal in the city?
“Ignore them,” Thjazi whispers.
Okay. So probably not normal. Azune nods and they continue on their way.
They haven’t been out of the trenches for long yet, no more than a couple of weeks. Most of that time Thjazi and the others spent with the Revolutionary Council, negotiating. There wasn’t much for him to do besides waiting around. It’s been weird, adjusting to a life where not much is happening. It’s left him feeling empty and incredibly unsettled. It makes no sense. During the Rebellion, where he had reason to be hypervigilant and paranoid, he felt fine. But now? He jumps at every sound, at every unexpected movement. He doesn’t understand why and it’s bothering him, but he also doesn’t know how to bring it up with Thjazi, or if at all. They all seem fine. Maybe this kind of life really is just wrong for him. But how would he make Thjazi understand that? Or is that part of the reason why Thjazi needs to get rid of him?
A door slams shut somewhere and he flinches, clinging tightly to Thjazi. Shit. Nice going, Azune.
“I’m no good for any life here, Thjazi,” he whispers, eyes burning.
Thjazi pulls him closer.
“You’re going to be okay. I promise. Hal knows how it feels to be coming home from battle. He’ll take care of you, okay? Please, let him.”
If Azune didn’t know any better, it almost sounded like Thjazi was begging him.
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“The jumpiness, the paranoia, thinking every shadow is an enemy. You’re not the only one dealing with that. Hal will know what to do, yeah? It’s gonna be okay.” Thjazi turns his face away and clears his throat.
“Okay,” Azune replies, frowning.
“What’s on your mind, Kid?”
“Is that… Is that why you want to leave me here? I swear, I’ll do better. I’m not going to be a burden, I promise, I’ll do better –”
“Azune, no. That’s not – no. I want to leave you with Hal so that you’re safe. So that you can learn what safety even means. If I could, I’d take you with me in a heartbeat. You would never be a bother, especially not because you’re not doing well after years of battle. Don’t you even consider that,” Thjazi interrupts him forcefully.
“But I am safe with you,” Azune objects, trying to push away the burning behind his eyes. How will he get Thjazi to change his mind?
“No. No you’re not,” Thjazi murmurs.
After a while they reach a house that’s got jasmine growing all over. As they approach, it seems that more flowers start blooming and the scent in the air thickens.
“Here we are. This is where my brother lives, where you are going to live for the foreseeable future. He has three kids, Alogar, who’s about a year older than you, Shadia, who’s a couple of years younger, and Hero, his smallest. This house is the safest place I know, filled with the kindest people I know. You can tell them, if something’s wrong. They’ll help. You’re going to be alright here. I will come visit, yeah?”
He ruffles through Azune’s hair.
“I won’t tell you to be good, I know you will be.”
At the prospect of Thjazi now giving him away, he grabs at his sleeve and holds on tightly, like a small child that doesn’t want their father to leave them behind. He knows that it’s childish. But rationality is quickly leaving him as the desperation takes over.
Thjazi pulls him in for what was probably supposed to be a short hug, but Azune clings to him like the whole world will fall apart if he lets go. For him it will.
“Please, please don’t do this. I’m sorry. Please take me with you, don’t leave me here, don’t go,” Azune begs, tears streaming down his face as he tries to catch his breath. There’s just not enough air.
“I promise I won’t be any trouble for you, I promise, just let me come with you, I won’t fit in here. Please, Thjazi,” he sobs.
“Don’t leave me here on my own.”
“I can’t. I’m sorry, Kid. I’ll come back, yeah? I promise.”
Thjazi squeezes him tightly one more time, presses a soft kiss to the top of his head and then knocks on the door.
⚔︎⋆𓅃⋆⚔︎
Around 12 years later
It’s deep into the night when the last people at the Farramh take their leave. He knows he should get up and leave, too. He’s overstaying his welcome at Hal’s home. He’s imposing on a grieving brother, who’s hurting more deeply than any of the people who were here tonight could ever imagine.
He doesn’t have to imagine. He knows what being a grieving brother feels like. He touches the bracelet that’s taken permanent residence on his chest years and years ago, hanging right above his heart.
So, yes. He knows, he knows he should leave and make space for Hal to grieve. And yet, he can’t make his feet move. Can’t force himself to stand up and walk away from the person who has raised him for most of his life. He can’t bear to, for once, be the one walking away instead of the one being left behind.
Thjazi had cheated death so many times before, it’s surreal that now, when so many people were involved to help, it had failed. All it took was one traitor that none of them even thought to suspect.
He keeps staring at Thjazi’s face, waiting for a mischievous twitch of the corner of his mouth to reveal that once more, he’s only been playing a trick on them all. A cruel trick, but a trick, nonetheless. But it doesn’t come. Thjazi stays deadly still.
All the fires he lit during his lifetime. Will they succeed in stoking them, keeping at least those alive? Will he know when the time comes to light his own? Would that make this worth it? Is that even possible? What’s his assignment now, what is he good for, now? All his life he worked for Thjazi. Nothing makes sense anymore. They’ve stolen the very base of what his life was built upon and now everything atop of it is crumbling down like a house of cards. Everybody’s world keeps turning and turning and turning. All that keeps turning for him are the gears in his head, the rolodex flipping through every memory of Thjazi he has. It will never be enough to fill the gaping chasm inside of him.
His parents.
Mayali.
Thjazi.
Will he never be good enough to keep the ones he loves safe? Does he not deserve to? There are no more gods to condemn him but still he feels forsaken.
He takes Thjazi’s cold hand in both of his and leans against their clasped hands with his forehead, closing his eyes.
“Please, Thjazi, don’t leave me here on my own,” he whispers, voice breaking as he forces back tears.
The silence around him is deafening.
It turns the desperation filling him into something boiling, something violent.
He stands up irately, the chair clattering to the floor behind him. He grabs the front of Thjazi’s shirt with both hands, hauling him closer.
“Come back. You have to come back!” he shouts. It echoes in the quiet of the night. With every second that the world, that Thjazi stays silent, the rage boiling in him grows hotter.
“You’re a fucking coward, leaving us now when it’s getting difficult again!” Azune slams Thjazi back on the table, chest is heaving.
Nothing.
He falls to his knees, burrowing his face in Thjazi’s side, gripping him so tightly it would bruise, was he still alive. He’ll feel guilty for calling Thjazi a coward later.
“You don’t get to abandon me here again, come back, come back!” He reaches for every bit of strength he still has left in his body and feels for the crackling energy he knows mends broken things again and pumps every ounce of it into Thjazi’s body. Remember. He forces more of the energy into Thjazi’s body. Remember. Blue lightning bolts start crackling over Thjazi’s whole body. It – he – is twitching. Remember. Azune’s now trembling with exhaustion. Remember. The light starts glowing brighter and brighter. Remember. He can feel his body start to fail. He pushes through. Remember. The whole room is now bathed in a bright, blue glow. Remember.
But Thjazi’s body has nothing left in it to remember.
The spell breaks off with a wail of agony and Azune collapses into himself like a marionette that had all its strings cut at once. It costs him everything to right himself up and look for confirmation of life. Something warm drips down his nose, over his lips and further down his chin. It tastes like metal. It doesn‘t matter. He looks at Thjazi. He looks and looks and looks but nothing changes. It’s still just an empty corpse.
And there’s nothing he can do about it.