Heartbeating snow

Chapter 2

Smoke, blood, death...

The cries of women suffering for the death of their children flooded the dawn. Mutilated bodies had replaced the scarce dew of dawn on that dusty earth and yellow sands forgotten in the heart of Persia. Black vulture feathers fluttered to the ground where the beast had scorched the earth, and the smell of sulphur permeated the nostrils.

"Arash" cried a woman with a face full of earth, blood and tears, as she entered the temple, "ARASH!"

The woman shouted once more as she failed to get an answer:

"Come out and show your face coward!"

The man she called out to patiently responded:

"No need to shout, Shirin. I heard you perfectly well the first time you called my name."

He looked like a hunter coming from the village. He appeared out of the shadows carrying a torch in his hands that illuminated the tanned skin of his face and his deep orange eyes.

He was calm as usual. That only made his wife even more furious.

"Take a good look at me, Arash, open your eyes and look at me!" Shirin shouted, possessed by anger, opening her arms wide: "All this blood is your own blood! The blood of your children, the blood of your grandchildren, the blood of your own people!"

Arash was unfazed by the claim and just walked in the direction of the large temple fire to light it and begin his prayers.

"I warned them all, but no one would listen to me."

The fire from the bonfire flooded the vicinity of the temple. Shirin could feel the magic floating in the air.

"What good are your gifts if you don't use them to help your own?"

"My magic has served to feed and protect us for years" he replied as he sat down in the middle of a fountain to begin his prayers. "My magic still serves to guard every house in the village. But, like the seasons, we cannot hasten it. Death, however, is always hungry, and knows no time or affections."

"This is all your fault!" exclaimed Shirin falling to her knees, unable to support her body because of crying. "My children, Arash, all my children..."

"They will all be back in this life sooner or later" said the husband as his orange eyes lit up brighter than the fire in front of him. "You know well that sooner or later, we all come back... one way or another."

Amidst the flames, Arash looked at the arrow he was preparing. The obsidian seemed to absorb the power of the flames and his own magic.

Deep down, he was mourning the loss of his children and his people as well, but his conscience was somehow clear.

The demon was very strong, so strong that holy fire alone could not stop it, but for that Arash needed time... even more time, and a special arrow; one that would never stop its flight.

「 心 」

"Xin?"

"Mmm..."

"Did you fall asleep?"

The woman's voice was calm and collected as she asked the question.

"No" Xin replied while lying on the divan with his eyes tightly closed.

He was trying to retain the memory as much as possible in his mind.

"Are you dizzy?"

"A little."

"You don't have to try so hard," the woman advised, standing up to pour him a glass of water. "The point of therapy is not to cause you more problems, but to try to solve the ones you already have. The important ones."