2407 Strilaxis 9, Briss

Jered Azerke rolled in faster than any of them could realize. Unlike all the holidays Umazure was known for, today boasted a cloudy atmosphere, dragging footsteps, and downcast faces. It took Jona a long time to crawl out of bed as soon as he realized what day it was.

The Day of Remembrance. It was a single day in the year dedicated to remembering everything and everyone they lost throughout their lives. From family to things as minute as a hair pin when one was a flower-child, everything was celebrated.

Today, no one was allowed to work. Operations would cease for as long as the sun was in the sky and the date hasn't changed to the tenth of Strilaxis. Over the years of Jona experiencing the holiday, the streets would be empty, with all nature fairies retiring to their houses and doing their own rituals there. Even the forest would be quiet, as if the creatures living in it could sense the collective grief passing over the whole territory.

Jona had long dreaded the holiday because it would force him to confront the fact that he and his father had lost something or someone. Why this holiday was even considered official was beyond him.

As far as he knew, Dwanzeig was the only territory to impose this holiday. Tracing its history, Jona could sort of understand why. Being a dwarven capital during their occupation of Umazure in the Hundred Years' War, Dwanzeig has seen its fair share of violence, bloodshed, and loss. Perhaps that's why it has the thickest forest on the island. It was Wikone's only way of consoling the bereaved.

But now that the dwarves were long gone and the fairies have long been set free, why would they still need to stop working and think about everything that went wrong in their lives? It didn't make sense.

Like tradition, the day would start with families gathering together in an altar inside their house where any memory they have of the one they're celebrating would be placed. Then, they would pray to the gods together, thanking Calaris for the memories and the times given to cherish them. After that, they would finish it off by eating a meal. Jona knew of some who just drink a half-cup of wine and call it a day. There weren't really any hard rules on how people would participate in the holiday.

Some people would gather in the Garden of Remembrance, the one in Telsbury, and light up lanterns. Then, they would send these up to the sky and watch it soar and disappear from sight. Most just stay in their homes and tell stories of the things they lost and the people who had passed on.

What Jona didn't like was the fact that his family's home was the Acosan palace and that his family consisted only of him and his father. As he walked the dim corridors with nothing but leaves and thorns for company, he saw how huge and empty the palace was without the servants walking around doing their tasks, the council masters bickering with each other about how to best solve a problem, or even the familiars of the visiting emissaries from Komery running around in play.

Their own ritual would be held in the Grand Queen's memorial, a huge, hidden room in the heart of the palace. When Jona got there, his stomach turned. The Grand Monarch was already there, kneeling on a mat woven from dark green fronds. Beside him, an empty cot awaited Jona.

Reluctantly, Jona raised his gaze past the lit candles lining the shelves around the room, giving the room an eerie ambience and into the huge altar filled with the Grand Queen's trinkets and other offerings made by the people who loved her dearly. Beyond the altar was an empty wall where her painted portrait hung.

The Grand Queen was the same as the number of times Jona had been here. Her small, rounded face framed by straight strands of dark blue hair was accentuated by a tight-lipped smile, the amusement in it enough to make the corners of her gray eyes crinkle. Whoever painted this portrait even got the playful twinkle in her eyes, like she knew all the naughty things you did but would promise to never tell anyone.

A bright blue sash was draped over one shoulder, signifying her rank as the wife of the Grand Monarch and the mother of the Grand Royal. Even though it was merely a portrait, Jona could swear that if he reached out, his fingers could feel the softness of her midnight black sleeves. But who was he kidding?

He swallowed against the growing lump in his throat as he strode towards his designated place and knelt beside his father. Did he know what Jona found out recently? If he did, they wouldn't have to do this every year. They wouldn't have to feel the sadness and the need to celebrate this holiday for a long, long time.

If only...

They did the rituals, including Jona leading the prayer to the gods. In his head, he thanked the gods that his mother was still alive after all these years but out loud, he thanked them for letting them be with her while she was still here. Both were still somehow applicable.

Then, after the prayers, his father popped open a bottle of xelasaraz and poured an equal amount on two glasses readied for them. The sound of sloshing liquid filled the silence of the memorial, setting Jona's nerves on edge. He watched the xelasaraz's transparent flow as his father picked his glass up and tilted it in Jona's direction.

"I know you don't drink wine but..." his father paused. "But do it for your mother? Just this once?"

For some reason, anger jumbled Jona's mind and, with it, his tongue. "Why would I?" he snapped. Surprise colored his father's face as his hold on his own glass quivered. "I know she's alive. Eldan's harboring her. All these years we've acted like she was really gone. Well, it turns out she wasn't!"

His father blinked. "Where did you get that information?"

Jona admitted to everything he did for the past few weeks. When he finished, the Grand Monarch's eyebrows almost reached his hairline in being so cranked up. "And so, I've come to the conclusion that my mother was still alive and she was trapped somewhere in Gandirk, wherever that was," he said. "If you could give me access, I can get her out of there."

Something flashed in his father's face and Jona didn't need to guess what it was. Sadness.

"Oh, I should have told you when I got the chance," his father set his glass down beside Jona's untouched one, turned to face Jona fully while still staying in his kneeling position, and folded his hands over his lap. "You didn't deserve to be kept in the dark like this."

Jona's heart thundered in his head, almost drowning out his father's next sentences. "I have to say your assumptions are wrong because I saw her myself," the Grand Monarch said, confirming the worst of Jona's fears. "Eldan did accompany her to Gandirk but it was me who made it inside and saw the whole thing."

Jona didn't realize how hard he was clenching his fists over his knees if not for the growing pain in his wrists. "So it wasn't an accident," he seethed, his voice rising. The lump in his throat had only gotten larger. "Why would you say it is? Why would you go that far to hide everything from me and lie to me?"

"Because she asked me to!" his father yelled right back. Jona saw real fear and confusion flashing in his eyes. The Grand Monarch deflated, as if suddenly tired. "We saw your passion towards Wikone's creation. If you knew why she had to go, you would have followed in her footsteps to save what she thought she had to. We didn't want you to choose that path. I didn't want you to."

Jona narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?" he said. "Why did my mother have to die? Why did she have to go to the Living Throne?"

"That's the only way we found in saving nature," the Grand Monarch said, looking anywhere but at Jona. "She sacrificed her soul to Wikone to stop the Decay from spreading further than it did."

Jona's breath hitched. "So what's happening right now—"

"Is the same thing that happened before," his father finished for him. "It looks like your mother's sacrifice isn't enough. I don't think it ever was."

Jona scoffed, surprising both him and his father. "So that's it?" he seethed. "That's what this is all about?"

The Grand Monarch knitted his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

Before he knew it, Jona's chest heaved up and down, his lungs working double time to make up for the breaths he lost for being too angry. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. "You kept everything from me because you didn't want me to choose the same thing as she did," he said. "You chose for me even before I could."

He shot up and began pacing. The glasses of wine lay forgotten at his feet. He didn't dare look behind him else he saw her smile and his resolve crumbled. "We're the heads of this territory, the family Wikone chose to protect her creations. You told me to never run from my duties, my responsibilities," he shoved his fingers into his hair, spiraling down into his feelings and not knowing how to stop. "So why did you choose for me?"

"Because I can't bear to lose another one!" his father said, staring into the woven mats covering the stone floor. All around them, the flames from the candle wicks fluttered, almost to the beat of his tone. The Grand Monarch looked up at Jona. "I can't lose you too."

"So, you're going to put your own issues over the rest of your people?" Jona said, throwing what his father said to Eldan right back at him. "This disease is eating nature. It doesn't stop and it will devour everything unless we do something about it. I can't stand by and do nothing. I don't know how you can. Gods, I tried so many times to get you to do something and you didn't move. None of you did!"

The Grand Monarch blew an exasperated breath. "It costs too much," he said. "Perhaps it is Wikone's will to have her creation disappear from the face of the island."

"There is a way," Jona argued, stepping backwards towards the memorial's arched exit. "You are just too selfish to tackle it."

Realization dawned on his father's face just as Jona reached the corridor flanking the memorial. "Xenna, whatever you think you're about to do," he said, standing up and extending his arms. "I forbid it. As the Grand Monarch, I forbid it! You won't step a foot out of this place until I say so."

Jona cracked a smile, albeit a sad one. He had never seen his father look so desperate and so...old. "Luckily for you, I won't need to step out."

Before the Grand Monarch could ponder on what Jona meant, Jona turned and tore through the corridors as fast as his legs could take him. The wind blew his hair away from his forehead, the heavy drum of the waterfall rising along with the heartbeat pounding in his ears. His fingers closed around the tome about soul magic as soon as he burst into his room. It was a good thing it was Jered Azerke today. No one but the Grand Monarch stood in Jona's way.

He moved out of his room and ran into a new set of corridors leading to his target. All around him, the branches shook and sped towards him and each other, attempting to form a barrier around him and lock him in place. He ducked, swerved, snapped a few with his magic, and dashed towards the edge of the palace.

"Stop!" his father's voice bled past the ringing in Jona's ears. Like the obedient son he had been, he froze and turned to regard the man who raised him. They were both breathing hard from all the time spent running inside the palace. "Stop," his father said again, holding his arm towards Jona as if he was calming his son down. "Step away from the ledge. Please don't do this."

Jona gritted his teeth. "You'd really let all of nature die?"

"We'll look for another way," his father said, his eyes pleading with Jona to stay, to discontinue whatever it was he was planning.

Jona gave his father one last sad smile. "Unfortunately, it doesn't exist."

Then, he threw himself into the churning void below. He put two of his fingers into his lips and blew a sharp whistle. The sound of water falling drowned everything, including the shrill call. As the earth's pull gripped him, as the wind tore his hair into countless different directions, panic gripped his limbs.

Like always, it seemed like he hadn't thought this through well enough.

A distinct caw rang from the horizon and a blur of red and yellow whizzed towards him. His fall was broken when he slammed into Ixy's soft feathers and her majestic tail brushed against his leg. Together, they skimmed the surface of the waterfall only to zip past the cliffs' edge and into the blue sky above. Jona gave a loud whoop, the adrenaline pumping in his limbs.

Then, he looked back to the palace where he spotted a small form belonging to his father standing still and alone from where Jona had left him. His initial amusement died as well as the ecstacy of how Ixy caught him in his fall. Instead, dread and something resembling fear dropped its weight in his chest.

With a soft caress against Ixy's neck feathers, Jona forced himself to say, "Take me to Ardgate, Ixy," he said. "The Living Throne awaits us."