Moonborn (Mirai's Tears I)

A C T I — DOUBT

I can’t lie, I’ve been played

By powerful people who get their way

But I, in time, will climb my mountain

I, in time, will rise

Imagine Dragons (2021). Cutthroat.

(CN: This chapter contains the murder of an infant, which can be especially triggering to parents. Proceed at your own discretion.)

Harw’s righteous Flames burned the village to the ground as the faithless cried out in gratitude and surrendered themselves to the cleansing fire.

The scriptures taught this. The Highpriest taught this. His brethren of the Peacebringers taught this.

As Sinaru plowed through rubble and coughing villagers, he could not deny the evidence to the contrary. He had killed targets before, but this was different. Through stinging eyes, he still saw clearly. Those men wielding pitchforks against highly skilled Peacebringer warriors surely did not hiss curses out of gratitude to the sungod Harw, nor did their wives and husbands try to flee with their children because their belief in being saved from a cold death under moonlight compelled them to their desperate dashes.

And the flames…

Sinaru ducked under the pitchfork of a straggler and shoved him against a low brick wall, from where the villager stumbled back and crashed into a burning house. The scream was drowned out by raging fire all around—and the high-pitched whistling in Sinaru’s ears.

He had to escape the Flames.

Despite a hooded cloak, his hair-ends’ singed smell mixed with the biting smoke as he half rushed, half stumbled over dusty paths, the fires whipping at him, hungry, gleeful. His breath caught as the whistle in his ears intensified and his vision blurred. Red on red, fire on blood. Only his bandaged hand that he held up to stabilize himself shone white and unbloodied amidst the massacre.

This was supposed to be his first mission as newly appointed Peacebringer, but Sinaru could only seek refuge in a dark patch among the hot reds: a thatched hut far from the village’s center. It nestled into the shadow and the sound of the sea lapping against the shore. Supporting himself against the clay wall, he fumbled with the one trinket he allowed himself, pulling it free from under the bandages that snaked all around his upper body. The crystal tear was cool to the touch despite his own body heat. He moved his thumb over the rough surface as it lit up in twinkling blue, with a violet shimmer mixed into its core. Already his breathing calmed down, and he drank deep of the nook of fresh air until his heartbeat stopped crushing his chest from within.

As his ears grew accustomed to the relative quiet, their whistling subsided as well—instead catching a whimper from within the clay walls. Movement, the scraping of furniture.

He had to follow his orders.

After all, his understanding of the Peacebringers’ main objective was to. Well. Maintain peace. The little voice inside sounded like a child, and the Peacebringers spared children. Took them in, made sure any violent or insurgent tendencies dissolved in the embrace of the brotherhood and its Highpriest.

He could do that much today, surely.

With a deep breath, Sinaru shoved the crystal back under his coat and pushed himself off the wall, determined to block out the slaughter behind him, then rushed into the hut. Inside, he heard nothing at first save for an odd sucking sound. His Mirwen eyes thankfully grew accustomed to the dark in a matter of a few blinks—the one benefit to his heritage—so it didn’t take long until he could slide past overturned chests of drawers, through the gap between the wooden wall and a wardrobe…

As he emerged in a stuffy bedroom, Sinaru saw the nursing mother. Leaning against the footboard, she cradled her suckling infant. She hadn’t noticed him yet, shushing her child and placing desperate kisses on the little one’s head.

The Peacebringers spared children.

Sinaru stepped on a creaking floorboard and the woman’s gaze shot up, panicked. Pleading.

They spared children.

Silent tears ran down her bronze cheeks as she continued to caress the curly fuzz on her child’s head.

The parents, they killed.

Sinaru’s eyes flicked to the nursing infant, back to the mother. He thought of the daggers nestled against his thighs, capable of quick and deep cuts, an almost painless death if aimed right. And his aim was never off.

The woman let out a stifled sob and shook her head, still wide-eyed, and Sinaru sighed.

Killing the one person who kept this child alive was no mercy. There had to be exemptions to the rule, or the infant had no chance of ever growing old enough to join the brotherhood under Harw’s Highpriest.

So he crouched in front of the woman and extended a bandaged hand to help her on her feet. As expected, she regarded him with a confused frown, though a glint of hope she dared not harbor yet lightened her eyes.

“You are not one of them,” she whispered, “are you?”

Sinaru cocked his head. True, he wore a black cloak in favor for the traditional red garb, but surely she did not think he was here to help people escape what the Highpriest called Harw’s judgement.

“You…”

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She reached out to him, even placed a finger on his bandaged cheek. Sinaru recoiled at the touch. His hood slid off his head to reveal silver hair he usually didn’t bother to hide under bandages like the rest of his people’s features. But his eyes, he could not hide. Nor their violet gleam that allowed him to see so well in the dark.

“You’re Mirwen,” she continued with an awestruck whisper. “You’re here to save us from him, aren’t you. She must have sent you… She must have sent you!”

There was only one figure she could refer to. Sinaru’s lips shrunk to a thin line as he stood up to cool his fury before it could take hold of him completely.

“Mother Moon has long abandoned us; you’d do well not to place your hopes in Her.”

The woman opened her mouth to protest, but at that moment, a crashing and rumbling burst through their conversation. It sounded as if the furniture on the other side of the wardrobe was thrown from one side of the hut to the other. Sinaru blew air through his nose. He knew only one person capable of such a commotion.

“Sinaru!” There he was. Brother Havfast’s excited bellow rattled the points of Sinaru’s sensitive ears as per usual. He suppressed a pained hiss. “You in here?!”

Sinaru didn’t bother to raise his voice; coarse and deep, it carried well enough without causing people’s eardrums to burst: “Further in.”

The commotion started anew when Havfast started shoving the wardrobe, grunting with every unnecessary attempt—unnecessary because he finally opted for simply knocking it over so it crashed to the wooden floor, splintering part of it in the process. Where it had stood before, a hulk of a man instead popped into view, traditional red tunic covering only half of his brown skin and hanging loosely from one shoulder. He did like to show off his muscles, after all. A beautiful man, all things considered, until he opened his mouth.

“There!” Havfast exulted with the expression of pride in his broad face as if he had just moved the Seat of the Sun all over the continent. He didn’t seem to realize that the infant had started to cry in the mother’s embrace. “See, Sinaru, I knew your thoroughness would help us; I don’t think any of us would’ve thought to look here in the outskirts!”

Sinaru doubted this; he also doubted Havfast would care if he told the man that he had not ended up here by choice but out of necessity, so he answered with a one-shouldered shrug.

Meanwhile, Havfast had unhooked his spear from its shoulder strap and pointed it directly at the woman. “And what a find it is! Heard you talking about Her, see.” He shot a worried glance in Sinaru’s direction. “She didn’t get to you in any way, did she?”

“Hardly.” He frowned. It wasn’t lost on him that Havfast must have listened a while before he had called out to him.

Havfast grinned. “Right. Don’t know anyone who hates this traitor goddess more than you, after all. No wonder, after what she did to you…”

“About these two,” Sinaru cut through Havfast’s rambling before he could dredge up what had been shared in confidence between him, Sinaru, and the Highpriest. “I was thinking of—”

“Don’t you worry about that, brother. I know, civilian traitors are more difficult, especially when you’re just starting out.”

“That’s not—”

Havfast patted his shoulder—almost slammed him to the ground with his uncontrolled strength, too. “Don’t feel bad. I’ll take over this one for you today. The Highpriest will know you had your part in it; and maybe it’s easier for you next time, yes?”

“I—”

“We support each other, come on. Stand back.”

But then—!

Havfast didn’t care, didn’t notice how Sinaru jerked forward in the attempt to stop him in his overeager obedience. The spear pierced the mother in the blink of an eye and after a gasp, her shocked expression turned limp. Empty. Her head rolled back in her neck and she slid to the ground, the crying infant still in her grasp.

“There!” Havfast sported his triumphant expression again.

Sinaru stared at the dead woman and the babe, now drenched in the blood of its mother. Still crying, its little fingers groping for the breast it so sorely needed.

“I thought we bring children with us,” he spoke under his breath, barely audible for Havfast among the wailing. “Reeducate them. Without its mother, the child will die. You could just as well have killed it yourself.”

Havfast inclined his head with a frown. He scratched his stubble while he eyed the infant, and Sinaru was half expecting him to utter a pointless—and irreverent—“oops”, but then he nodded.

“Yes… No, you are right, of course. Sorry about that.”

Sinaru raised his eyebrows, surprised by Havfast’s ostensible realization, and considered the babe’s options: “I wager we could still find a surrogate—”

The spear pierced the infant in one smooth thrust. Silence coated the hut.

Sinaru forgot to breathe.

“So thorough!” Havfast clamored, slamming both arms on Sinaru’s shoulders and pressing down on them in what he probably considered appreciation. He half crushed his collarbones. “The Highpriest will surely reward you for today, brother. Make sure there aren’t any rats left in here, yes? Now, I have to see if the fires are still stoked enough, it’s too quiet outside.”

With that, he crashed through the overturned furniture on his way out and left Sinaru with the two bodies and a knot in his throat that made him gag.

He slapped a hand against his mouth, intent on looking away from the dead babe, somewhere, anywhere, but the lack of oxygen soon sent him kneeling and gasping for air. He couldn’t avert his gaze. Death came for criminals, for traitors and rebels, for anyone who could potentially threaten the peace under Harw’s light. Sinaru himself had delivered it often enough before the Highpriest had plucked him from the streets of the sad port town to the north. Death came for adults. Never for infants. Not like this.

These two, mother and child, drenched in each other’s blood… They looked just like—

Enough. A flare of anger finally gave Sinaru the strength to stand again. He wouldn’t be seen wallowing in old grief, nursing old wounds. Cursing Havfast for mentioning the Mother’s betrayal, for cracking that carefully built shell around him, Sinaru marched to the double bed and ripped the sheets off it. With a sweeping motion, he spread it over the bodies. Neither His Flames nor Her moonlight would touch them here.

He was still heaving deep breaths, his eyes transfixed on the sheets soaking in blood, when a soft whimper from behind made him turn on his heels.

A rat.

He approached along the double bed, one measured foot after the other. The floor croaked under his weight just as he reached the headboard—prompting a muffled gasp underneath.

Make sure there aren’t any rats left.

Finally Sinaru pulled a dagger from its sheath and knelt down to pull out whoever hid under the bed. He noticed his glowing pendant slip out of his coat’s neckline, but paid it no further heed.

The Highpriest will surely reward you for today.

His bandaged hand shot forward and he got hold of a thin piece of cloth. Thin and…

A high-pitched yelp answered his movements.

Thin and small.

The rat was a child.

Sinaru let his gaze follow the blue crystal pendant dangling from his neck to meet the wide and dark eyes of a boy not older than fourteen summers. Younger even than he had been when they had exiled him for a crime he had not committed. Surely that boy was young enough to be recruited rather than killed. Surely even Havfast would follow the brotherhood’s rules. Surely—

Sinaru did nothing as the boy’s eyes were drawn to the glowing blue pendant. No, Havfast had followed the brotherhood’s rules with his actions. Rules that were nonsensical. Even the boy under the bed would be too old to be left alive. Killing potential recruits, what a waste. He would simply need to work on changing the rules, then. As for now…

The boy’s fingertips touched the pendant. In a flash, Sinaru’s contemplations to spare him were reinforced by waves of a protective feeling that hadn’t seized him like that in perhaps a decade. He snatched his pendant back from the boy’s hand, staring at him, seeing the shadow of a chidhood friend. Gone in the blink of an eye. He shook his head, squinting his eyes shut. He hadn’t thought of her in years, no point in starting now. Instead, he focused on the boy again, a pitiful little thing. Whatever tricks his mind played on him, they had no bearing on his decision.

“Can you read?”

The boy looked at him with a frown, then nodded.

Sinaru exhaled. Finally something went in his favor.