One day a man was slain
His blood ran down his child's face
Anger brewed from deep within
The grief too much to bear
The son picked up the sword
Fallen from his father's cold embrace
Thrust it through the soldier's heart
And became no better than them

"Dov?" Aeric opened the door to their shared bedroom.

Dov sat by the window, aimlessly drawing patterns into the frost only for his breath to fog it up again. He didn't pay any mind to Aeric.

If the brothers had been closer in age, they would surely be mistaken as twins. Both had dark blond hair and ice-blue eyes, yet Dov wore his hair short while Aeric kept his hair long enough to be tied up with a cord. He no longer wore it up, however, instead choosing to keep it down to cover his ears. Dov's earmuffs were too small for him, and no one was around to supply another, so Aeric willingly gave him his.

"Dov," Aeric called again, "dinner will be ready soon. Let's go get cleaned up. The frost will still be there when you're done eating."

Dov finally turned to Aeric with a disapproving frown. "That's not funny, Aeric."

"I wasn't trying to be funny," Aeric said mildly. "I was making a statement. Now let's go."

It was horrible trying to explain what would happen eventually to Dov, back when everything was still normal. They weren't even sure Dov would understand. Yet he surprised them all with a wise nod of his head, stating he will wait with them.

Aeric remembered the early days as he kept Dov occupied while their parents fought. To stay, to go, to send the children, to leave as a family. But it was futile to keep Dov oblivious to it. He was perceptive for his age, after all. It was on the bad nights when even Aeric got caught in the arguments, nearly begging his parents for them all to leave and take their chances in Brivvala. The fighting only stopped when Dov stepped into the room one day, tears streaming down his face, saying he didn't care where they went. He just wanted to stay as a family, and they were slowly tearing apart. No one raised their voice in Dov's presence since, and all arguments were swiftly ended.

Dov slid off his chair, slowly stretching his legs to get circulation back in them. "What's for dinner?"

"Soup, I think."

Once the boys had washed up, they made their way back to the kitchen and were immediately enveloped by a pleasant warmth. Regular fire did nearly nothing to the bite of the forever-frost, but any sort of effort was a sigh of relief. They sat down at an already-set table alongside their father as their mother put the finishing touches on the soup.

Mealtimes had become a silent affair for the family. The answers would come back the same if they asked about each other's day, and the only thing that changed in their lives was who had left. Either by leaving Lo'ahm or by succumbing to the cold. It was uncomfortable for the once lively family to sit in silence at first, but they had accepted it.

If only they knew this was their last meal together.

Midway through their dinner, a knock sounded from the door. Aeric volunteered himself to answer it and got up from his chair before anyone could object. He still felt chilled from his excursion to the market that afternoon and was glad to move around a bit more. After grabbing a small bag of dried meat, he answered the door, stepping outside and shutting the door behind him to keep the heat in. There stood a man, his face weary, with two young girls huddled behind him. Each of their lanterns flickered faintly with the blue life-flame.

"This house is still occupied," Aeric said gently, already knowing why they were there in the first place. He motioned down the street to a home at the corner of the block. "The home at the end has been abandoned, though. You can take up residence there." He offered the bag to the man. "Here. Please take it. It's not much, but you must be tired. It should stave off the hunger until tomorrow morning when you can go to the market."

The man hesitated before slowly reaching out and delicately grasping the bag as if its contents were the greatest treasure he had ever held. Tears welled in his eyes as he bowed his head. "May the gods see your kindness and hold favor to you and bless you. Thank you."

Aeric humbly accepted his thanks and wished them well, watching silently for a few moments as they trudged away before reentering the house. This occurrence was common as people of more rural towns traveled into Lo'ol. Both as a stop before exiting the gate into Brivvala and to live somewhere closer to the source where the life-flames shone a little brighter. He stood with his back pressed against the door, thinking of these things before taking a step forward to join his family back at the dinner table.

A crack of what sounded like thunder broke the silence, and the ground shook from the force of it.

Startled, Aeric turned and flung the door open, racing outside. This time, he had forgotten to shut it. At first glance, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. An empty street of dark, dreary houses. Yet one by one, more and more people stepped out to investigate. A bright, white light then shone in the direction of the gate, and Aeric's blood ran cold. Any light would have been welcomed into Lo'ahm, yet this was this light that brought despair. This was the light that bought the end of their realm. He took a few steps back.

"Father...Father!" Aeric shouted, running back to his home where he nearly collided with his father who was already at the door. His father grasped him firmly by the arms.

"Calm yourself, Aeric! What's going on—"

"It's the Tir!" Aeric blurted, his eyes wide with panic. "They're back! They're—we can't stay here!"

He knew he didn't want to die. He had always known that. At the same time, however, he didn't want to leave his family behind, thus agreeing to stay and face their demise with them. Yet if they stayed now, they would suffer a violent death rather than a peaceful one. The Tir were back to finish what they had started.

"Please..." Aeric looked into his father's eyes and begged one last time. "Please, we have to leave. When we make it to Brivvala, we can still live as a family. At least we will still be alive!"

His father said nothing as his grip around his son's arms became tighter. It was a grueling few seconds before his father finally nodded. Aeric could've cried with relief, but there was no time to. His father had already released him and turned to address his mother and brother behind him.

"Grab what food we have and put on your warmest articles of clothing," he said. "Take all of the hearth's life-flame. Our only hope is the gate in the Neverdawn Plains. The Tir may have blocked all other gates, but they wouldn't be able to go near that one."

There was no argument. His father and mother gathered the food while the brothers gathered the life-flames from the hearth. Aeric barely noticed the sword that hung at his father's waist alongside his lantern. All clasped their woolen cloaks tightly around them at the end of their preparation, and within minutes they were running down the streets.

Row by row of houses they passed, shops and stalls they recognized. Each knew the ins and outs of this part of Lo'ol, as all of them had grown up there. Nostalgia would call to Aeric when he ran by either a favorite place or a home where a friend used to live. Painful memories of life before the war came and went, back when his biggest worry was getting caught after causing harmless mischief. Yet they continued to run as screams of terror and the sounds of fighting fueled their desperation to escape.

They were halfway through the city when a sickening scream erupted behind them, and Aeric whirled around, paling in horror at what he saw.

His mother laid on the ground, pressing at a bloody wound on her leg. His father had drawn his sword in time to block the next blow of the winged person of Tir, a Theodi. His father was no soldier, however, and soon his sword arm was injured as well. Thinking quickly, Aeric reached down and grabbed a loose stone from the street, hurdling it at the Theodi. It struck his head, hard enough to stun him, and his father took the opportunity to stab the Theodi through his chest. The Theodi struggled for a moment before slumping to the ground, dead.

Aeric froze as he stared at the body. He had witnessed the outcomes of war before, the families who were no longer complete, but never had he seen someone killed before his eyes. His father shook him out of his stupor, his sword now sheathed and his mother supported in his arms. He heard Dov sob beside him.

"Aeric, snap out of it, boy, and keep moving!" his father ordered, and soon they were running again.

Their pace was slower, however, as his mother could barely walk, and often they had to double back due to a blocked path. The Theodi and other people of Tir were spreading out farther than they could run. Their escape came to an abrupt stop as his mother sank to the ground once again, her face pale. She had lost too much blood.

"Go on without me. I'm only slowing you down," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "Please, you won't make it at this rate."

"No!" Dov burst into tears and ran into his mother's arm. She hushed him softly, hugging him close and running her hand through his hair.

"We're not leaving you behind, we can't just—" Aeric's words were cut off as his father grasped him by the shoulder.

"She's right. You won't make it out of here alive if you wait for us." Aeric was startled as his father pushed his sword into his hands. "Take this to protect yourselves."

"What? No! We're not—"

"Aeric." Tears fell from his father's eyes. Aeric had never seen his father cry. This terrified him even more. "Aeric, my son. Take Dovlan with you, and promise me you'll live. Never stop fighting for your freedom."

His father then pulled him into a hug, and Aeric couldn't stop the sobs that escaped him as he buried his face in his father's shoulder. "I promise," he choked out.

He wished they had more time. He wished he could have said everything that needed to be said. Most of all, he wished they could escape together. But none of that was their reality, only being spared enough moments to embrace each other one last time as the cries of anguish grew closer.

The brothers couldn't help but look back as they ran. His father's sword hung heavily at Aeric's waist, and his grip tightened around Dov's smaller hand. Both of their lanterns shone brighter with the life-flames that once belonged to their father and mother.

Aeric tore his eyes away from his parent's distant forms. His father kneeling next to his mother, holding her in his arms. He had promised his father he and his brother would live, and soon he continued to run with Dov trailing behind him. Their parents were now out of sight. Dov hiccuped as he ran, but kept his eyes firmly on the road ahead of them.

The houses grew sparse as they reached the edge of Lo'ol, diving into the forest that laid beyond and leaving behind the cries of the slaughtered people of Lo.

"The gods have betrayed us!"

"We are now defenseless!"

"Pyrilor, hear our cry and save us!"

But no one answered.