rade

I believe you.

How easily those who were tired and done could believe the worst of the world. Perhaps it was because they’d seen just how bad it could get through the winding road of their years. They’d seen the remains of promises, peace, and even hope piled up along its shoulder in a parody of their childrens’ wars. I don’t know how we’re going to leave things in their hands when they act like this. And that— that was the crux of his fears, wasn’t it? Rade didn’t just cling to life because he feared the oblivion that would claim him; he also feared the darkness that might consume all of this. The thought of a world where the Lagoon didn’t exist, where nothing he’d done mattered in the end... it birthed a grief greater than he’d felt in losing any child.

As terrible as it would be to find himself reduced to memory, the thought that he might not be remembered at all was far, far worse.

But Rade— he didn’t have an answer to the pale Vulcan’s question. Nor did he have a solution to the uncertainty that bound them here. He only knew that they couldn’t stay forever— that soon enough, their borrowed time would come to an end. There was no point in speaking as much, though. By the bitter weariness in her voice, Anath already knew. It was why neither of them had time to waste on delicacy and decorum; why they’d come together in a way that left every flaw and sharp edge exposed. So when the unexpected softness of his apology drew a curious glance and confused answer, the roan stallion wasn’t surprised. Except in that she’d unburied it at all, this depth of feeling that he’d shared so little and that threatened to complicate the easy flow of their words. Perhaps, until it was back under control— perhaps silence was best. Yes, it was definitely better to say nothing instead of too much.

He glimpsed the fleeting motion that was the mare’s nod, and in the silence that followed Rade’s thoughts lingered on his own son. Cullen. For all that the world had stolen from him, it rankled the scarred creature that it couldn’t take the worst with the best. Maybe it was karma. Or maybe— maybe everything that happened was meant to lead to this moment, and no amount of running could ever let him escape it. "I’ll trade with you," the golden Boss rasped, the faint note of humor in this statement hidden beneath something darker; something like anger. It just— it wasn’t fair, that Anath should try and shoulder the blame of what had happened. It wasn’t far that either of them should be left to clean up this fucking mess. "My son, he killed one of your sisters. He killed my sister. And those are only the worst of his crimes."

Rade sucked in a breath, trying to quench the fire in his veins and only serving to fuel it instead. "Did you really think that any of this was supposed to make sense? That there’s anything that can explain it all away?" The flames were in his throat now, in his eyes. Burning. And it— no. No. He wouldn’t let the tears start to flow; he couldn’t. "The General I remember was never this stupid. Open your eyes, Anath—" — the name came to him abruptly, yanked over the wall he’d built to bury his past— "—there’s no reason for any of it, and there doesn’t have to be. They’re dead, and we’re here, and the only thing we can do is keep going." Or give in and be forgotten.

And that— that was a choice he knew neither of them could make.

stallion / palomino roan / arab mix / 15.1 hh