Finding Contentus

Chapter 141: Ace

"Ayata, one day you'll grow to be bigger than your sister. It'll be your job to keep her safe from harm. Do what I cannot. Learn to be the man that I can never be. I... I had hoped that I would have more time to spend with you, to teach you these things. You must be tired of all my excuses. I don't blame you. I only blame myself for failing to do better. For failing to be better. Because you deserve better. If you need something to latch onto for your hatred, for your anger, then hate me. Hate me as much as you like, as much as you need. Just promise that you'll never take your anger out on your sister. Don't... don't end up like me. Don't betray your family, and don't abandon the remains."

Chup kar. He pleaded, desperately, for that long lost memory without an image to shut the fuck up. Where did it come from? What crevices in his brain hid such a memory?

Raja Ayata flew with his crafted wings behind his sister, falling back on the words of his father.

"Be affectionate. Hating yourself won't get you anywhere. It'll scorch you alive like hellfire. Believe me I... I would know. If only I could have been more courageous, then maybe..."

Maybe what? You wouldn't have sold us out? Maybe you would still be here for me? For us? Go die in some anguished hole. Cause that's just a stupid dream that died in the pipes. Leave me alone.

Taught as a bowstring, his father's words tugged at the strings that kept his sizzling heart attached. He hated hearing Kesi's taut voice, because he hated how it was a constant reminder of his failure as a brother. When had he ever kept Lovouta safe from harm? Never. She was the one that protected him from everything, including himself. He was the one that put her in harm's way. He was the one who had physically harmed her in the worst possible way wasn't he?

Ayata thought of Lovouta's paintings of their parents like they were stone tablets that would never fade or erode, that would stand the tests of time. How was it that he could remember his father's voice despite barely hearing him? How was it that he pictured his father more than his mother who was there with him since birth?

Ayata squinted at the light glare the encroaching sun gave him. They traveled with the windstorms that spurred them on affectionately at first light. Lovouta thought it best that they sleep off their merm encounter, and to evade the primals that soared in the vicinity. He didn't sleep immediately. Icy sweat drenched him, to the point where Lovouta had to read him a bedtime story in order for him to eventually fall asleep.

She hadn't done that in years, mostly because he told her to stop babying him. Last night, he needed that treatment like a safety net to fall back on, and it worked wonders. What about her? She suffered from insomnia, from the nightmares she silenced from being heard. When was the last time she actually had a good sleep? Did reading the story at least help her with that as well?

That was the thing about Lovouta. At times, she could be so unreadable that it frankly scared him, like his sister had become unrecognisable. She was the one who woke up, not mentioning a thing about the previous night as though it had never happened in the first place. He never understood how she could do that. Then again, he wasn't complaining. He didn't want to talk about it either.

Good riddance. At least he burned the fish fucks to smithereens. If only he could burn their effect on him that still festered like an irritable rash that decreased his body heat exponentially. He rubbed his hands together as he flew.

The orange hue of the horizon made Ayata think of Rassy's orange windstorms, and how Oya was his favorite Racaan deity, and how Ossaro would find oranges to be his favorite fruit. How? Fatherly intuition for his unborn son that he wanted to conserve at all costs?

"Being a father is... alla hu. I'm sure you'd like for me to be that example. That model. All I can say is that you should look to yourself as an example. When you're older, of course. You won't understand any of the things I'm telling you. I don't even know if you can hear me, or if you'll remember these things when you wake up. There's so much I want to talk to you about..."