Exile's Lullaby

War

From the legends told
From land to sky, new and old
Through the years, dear little child
Have we been feared and scorned
Our homes became the field
Where battles raged, live or yield
Courage beat deep in our hearts
Till the earth was red from war

He walked briskly down the worn cobble roads, pulling his cloak tighter around him with a shiver. His breath showed with every huff he took. The colder the realm became, the more scarce it was to see another soul. It wasn't until he reached out, grasping the frozen knob of a door and swinging it open, did someone finally greet him.

"Was he still there, Aeric?" his mother asked, peeking her head out from the kitchen.

"Yes," he clicked the door shut and fumbled a bit with numb hands, "but the Dormiers weren't, so I had to buy a few things from Old Cricket."

"You did your best." His mother frowned as her fingers brushed against his when she took the basket. "Go warm yourself by the hearth. I'll call when dinner's ready."

Aeric nodded jerkily, gladly heading further into the house. Away from the door and closer to the warmth. The dim, blue flame at his hip jumped merrily in its lantern as it sensed it nearing its origin. Unattaching it from his belt, he held the lantern forward and granted the flame to leap back into the hearth. The hearth momentarily brightened as if thanking him for making it whole again before returning to its peaceful ways.

Yet it still shone dimly as its source grew weak. There was no longer a god keeping the life-flames alive.

The life-flames were the only things keeping the forever-frost at bay. The only thing keeping the realm livable for the people of Lo. Without it, they would all eventually freeze to death as the frosts reclaimed the lands of Lo'ahm, back to how it was before their gods made it their home. Yet they didn't dare leave. They were not welcomed anywhere else. Not in Brivvala, and certainly not in Tiras. They were exiles left to rot in forsaken lands.

"So the Dormier's also left to join the exodus," Aeric heard his father say from the kitchen. "From the way Kurrin spoke, it sounded as if they were set on staying."

"Plans change as it becomes colder," his mother said softly.

In the capital city of Lo'ol, nearly half of its citizens have joined a grand exodus to Brivvala, a neutral territory. Somewhere the Tir cannot reach them as easily. It had been neutral territory through the war and proved to remain so as more and more flooded the realm. No one who entered Brivvala ever returned, though, so those who remained could only assume the best.

Or the worst.

But no matter. The small sliver of freedom was enticing enough for most to take the chance. It had been months since their gods had left or fled, and months since they've been abandoned. Some held onto their faiths while others turned their eyes away. Aeric was one who held tight, same as his family, but it was slowly dwindling with doubt. He had met Pyrilor before, a god with a neutral face and honest eyes. He was a god who led his people with fairness and commitment, always answering when his people called to him.

It was hard to believe he had merely abandoned them in their greatest time of need.

Yet before he stepped through the Grand Gate of Lo'ahm, Aeric remembered the god turning one last time to address his people, a look of regret marring his features. With a grave tone, he had said: "Thrive, my people. This is where you hear from me last." He turned away quickly, then, and disappeared beyond the gate. But Aeric could've sworn he saw a single tear run down the face of the god.

His parents continued to converse, commenting on who was now gone and who still stayed, as Aeric snapped away from his thoughts. There was a curl of unease in his gut as he lowered his hands away from the heat of the life-flame. Walking away from the hearth, he stood in the kitchen entrance, lingering a bit before asking hesitantly, "Should we join, too?"

His father was sitting at the table with a mug of watered-down ale—the only beverage that kept unfrozen. "We are people of Lo," he said bitterly. "What waits for us in a realm of gods that care nothing for us?"

His mother frowned and crossed the kitchen, placing a hand on his father's shoulder. "But perhaps the children would have a chance."

"A chance for what?" his father snapped, setting his mug roughly on the table. "To hide who they are?"

"No," she stated firmly, her grip tightening on his shoulder. "To adapt and survive. It won't be easy...but it isn't fair to keep the children here to freeze with the rest of us."

His father's fist clenched as he stared hard down at the mug, grinding his teeth in thought. Many emotions crossed his face. Anger, sorrow, fear. Aeric nearly left the room to leave his parents alone before he heard his father sigh.

"You're right," he said softly, reaching up to place his hand over his wife's. He had yet to look away from the mug. "You're always right."

With another sigh, he looked to Aeric. Aeric, now feeling awkward as if he was just caught eavesdropping on the conversation, gripped the door frame, bracing himself for the imminent question.

"What will you do, Aeric?"

He opened his mouth to respond, instinctually wanting to say he would stay, but he then paused to really consider the heavy question. As each day grew colder, his underlying fear grew stronger. He knew he was on the path to a slow death. To freeze as the forever-frost settled over the realm as it had in its beginnings. Yet what lies beyond the gates leading out of Lo'ahm scared him even more. Here, he had his family, but out there he would be alone.

"I don't want to leave," he said at last. His mother seemed to want to object, but he shook his head lightly before stepping to the table and taking a seat across from them. "If that means dying—" the words caught in his throat, but he quickly swallowed it down, "at least I'll die along with the people I love."

A solemn silence settled over the group as his words sunk in. None were happy with them, but none could object. It was his mother who broke the silence first.

"But what of little Dov?" Her voice quavered as she said it, and her eyes glistened as the heaviness of the situation finally took to light. They had tried to ignore it as long as they could, but their fate wouldn't wait forever.

"If Dov wants to go," Aeric said, "I will go with him."

His mother nodded quickly as she wiped her eyes with the palms of her hand. "And if you decide to leave, take Dovlan with you."

"I will."

She took one last shaky breath before straightening her apron and grasping back onto her composure. Her husband took her hand gently, kissing the back of it as a gesture of reassurance to which she nodded her thanks and gave a weak smile.

"Dinner will be ready soon," she said, turning back to her work. "Go get cleaned up, and make sure to tell Dov."