ODE TO THE END: A BALLAD OF BROTHERS

CHAPTER 10

ACHIM

"Well it wasn't a good day," said Achim. As the dark boy walked through the woods, he looked at his killing hand. It had not been stained with red when he ripped the head from the woman's neck, but Achim often thought about how little such fatal acts took out of him now. Why did I do that, the boy wondered to himself.

The answer was rooted in anger. To spite the Warden General, Achim robbed them of a valuable piece. Well, that was what the boy told himself at the time. The truth was that there was no long reaching plan. No clever ploy to deter. No calculated attempt to demoralize. He did it because it was easy. He did, because he was angry and because he could.

Killing had not always been so simple a matter. Even when confronted with villains most deserving of the deed, Achim used to weep at the thought of taking their lives. Now though...Now he could kill for as little as a passing ire. Was it wrong? Of course it was, but it no longer felt so sacrilegious. Then again, few things had for the dark bo. Even so though, Achim wondered how black his heart had become.

Did he deserve to succeed? Did he deserve the right to even the smallest pleasures? "Whatever," said Achim. "What's one more sin of mine in God's little book? It doesn't matter anyway."

His thoughtful gaze lingered in the tall grass until the vista stole his attention. The great oak stood in the foreground as a frame to the dusk-touched city and the glittering sea. Achim sighed, his mind resigned to the writs of rebuke he had surely earned. He sat down, eyes sunken into the vast and belittling scene.

This city was beyond what he could fathom, and, over the vanishing lines of the horizon, were places even more unfathomable than that. How could he find one in an unending infinite? Achim thought, Why am I doing this?

The great oak at Achim's side soon stole his attention. His gaze climbed the natural tower, and he sat in silence and envious marvel of the sapling that thrived in, or in spite of, a cruel and callous world.

"If only I were like you," said Achim. "but I'm just some lost cause." The dark boy smiled, but his chin fell low before his body followed.

Achim collapsed onto his back and looked into the sky with a heart long hollowed. The clouds floated on the evening wind. The branches swayed and, to the rhythm of the rustling, Achim imagined a world where all plants spoke by the leaves in the breeze.

"Sorry for telling your friend to not come by for a while," said Achim to the oak tree.

The rising winds caused the tree to rattle in an uproar. In his mind, the tree did not like what Achim said.

"Look, I know. I get it. I'm not like her, but I'm the best I can do," said Achim. "I'm sorry that's not worth much."

The winds came again and the branches jostled in response.

Achim rolled over and closed his eyes. "Just trust me okay. You won't be alone. I promise to keep you company. At least for a little while."

Those were Achim's final words before he drifted into a doze. At least that was the intent. The boy's ears caught the distant snapping of sticks, but not from the backwoods. Sawdust rained down, pelting his face, and catching in his hair. He groaned like a cat on the cusp of agitation. "God damnit," whispered Achim.

"Who were you talking to," said Naomi.

She asked as she descended the tree, but the boy was still. He intended to look asleep, and did so quite well. Naomi was so convinced, she required a closer look. To that end, the sun-kissed girl hopped down the remainder of the way and hit the ground with a thud. The impact of her landing caused Achim's eyebrows to twitch in a way he hoped she did not notice.