Nightly Mirage

10. Crime and Punishment

In the past, Valhias had often felt rage towards the nahz'reim's heinous acts. But, at the same time, he had learned to accept that this was just what they were. After all, it was a war. And it was inevitable, for a war, to bring suffering and grudges.

Or at least, this is what the ath'ar had always repeated to himself throughout his life. But perhaps, in hindsight, even this had been nothing but a way not to face his deepest moral intuitions.

Whatever the truth was, the destruction of Nuvia was something before which even his rationalizing attempts were completely futile. There was no reason Valhias could fathom that could bring anybody to slaughter so many innocents indiscriminately. What the nahz'reim did crossed a line beyond which making sense of their actions sounded impossible.

Despite his struggle to keep a calm tone of voice, the inner turmoil of his conscience was blurring his reflexes – more than he himself had anticipated. With a swift movement, the ebony-skinned girl dodged the point of Valhias's sword, putting herself at a safe distance with her blades in hand even before the other had managed to realize what happened.

He cursed his lack of lucidity and rose his sword, ready to defend himself. Nevertheless, he realized that something was still holding him back, like an invisible rope.

And now, we will fight ... for what? Why? For what have we been fighting so far? I, the others, even the nahz'reim?

The same questions he had been asking himself restlessly over the last two days were now echoing deafeningly in his head.

Luckily, his reflexes took over and halted the nahz'reim's furious attack, deflecting her daggers with a single swing. Valhias continued the movement and, twisting his blade, he shattered her guard, pushing her against a frozen boulder and almost making her lose her balance.

"Why? That people did nothing wrong to you. Why did you kill them?"

Words that he had hitherto kept to himself finally found the strength to come out. Maybe it was the presence of an interlocutor, after two days of solitude and torment. Or, maybe, his inner drama had simply become too unbearable for him to keep his silence any longer.

The only reply Valhias got, though, was a fierce snarl. Then, the nahz'reim attacked again.

Despite his experience, he had never been a skilled swordsman. The few times he had crossed blades with a nahz'reim on the battlefield, he had always managed by sheer luck. And even so, he had never come to one of those fights as exhausted as he was now, after two days of marching on those snowy mountains. It would not have been strange if that girl had managed to overpower him.

But she did not. Indeed, Valhias realized he could fend off the nahz'reim's swings with surprising ease. Despite their rapidity, they were much lighter than he would have expected, to the point his counterattack was enough to put her on the defensive.

"When I was still a child, I saw my parents dying at the hands of you nahz'reim." Rage mounted inside his hurt heart, as memories gradually came to light. "I can't even remember their faces ... I only remember their screams, as you killed them mercilessly. Since then, I've always wondered: why did you do that? What did my family do to you to deserve all this?!"

Feelings that Valhias had long suppressed erupted inside him like a rocky stream. Without paying care to his own safety, he held fast the hilt of his sword and jumped forward. The nahz'reim dodged the first attack, but instead of continuing her movement to take advantage of his lowered guard, she suddenly stopped as if something had blocked her.

Valhias quickly covered his exposed flank and swung his sword down on her. The girl rose one of her daggers to deflect the blow, but the impetus of the swing knocked her down on the soft blanket of snow at their feet. Before she could even get back up, the nahz'reim found once again his sword pointed at her throat – so close as to brush against her ebony skin.