Ch16-5: Of Sacrifice

“I know that a leader has to sacrifice for his people… but Zemi… haven’t I given you enough?”

“I’ve been expecting you, ZenToYa,” the Arweinydd’s voice fell from the lofty throne above. The scent of flowers was strong in the air and the sunlight played down through the fluttering leaves. As if nothing terrible at all was going on in all the world.

When Zento had been younger, these things would have impressed him. Zemi knew that, and seemed to remember the eager youth that he had raised back in the Host Gate from childhood. But the last twenty some years since the Awakening had changed Zento.

I’m not that kid anymore, Zemi… I have children of my own. A family. There are some things in life that are more important than your games.

Even before his Awakening, the death of his beloved wife had been a terrible, sobering wake-up call. From that point on, the carefree boy-man that he had been for most of his life had been forced to grow up and mature. To juggle the roles of being a single father and a leader of the greatest nation in the Inner Realms.

And in both accounts, I’ve failed to come through.

And now, Zento stood before the Dreigiau’s throne, fighting back bitterness that gripped his chest. Again. Once again, his family was being put at risk for the whims of the Arweinydd who seemed to understand very little about what it meant to have children. To have a family to love and worry for.

Sure. You slap the title “sister” on Zazo and Zeni and create a make-shift family. But it’s not the same. You can’t possibly understand.

It hurt. It hurt because he was constantly torn between his duty to the Arweinydd who raised him from a boy… who taught him secrets that no other had ever known… who lifted him up from an orphan to be the High Guide over all of Nefol. Everything he had was touched by Zemi’s influence and teaching.

And now, as he stood at the foot of the throne, the winged man realized that there was so much anger between them. Never before had Zento felt pangs of misunderstood bitterness towards his Patron. And it seemed that every time he turned around, Zemi was doing something else that made his quiet anger grow.

Zemi sat with one leg hooked over the arm of the throne, leaning back in a casual manner. There was nothing mighty in the way he sat… as if he knew enough to realize that should he attempt to pull any formality at that point, that Zento would have had it right there.

Cutting right to the chase, Zento frowned, “What’s this I’ve heard about the search party going beyond the reach of the Inner Realms?”

The Dreigiau nodded and rightened himself on the throne, “I figured Kudako would bring you the news. Yes, the search party has left the Inner Realms to pursue Lucci.”

“How? Did they go through the Passage?”

“No…”

“Then how? It’s not possible to leave the Inner Realms without traveling through the Passage, Zemi,” Zento put his hands on his hips, wings bristling behind him.

“Zento… relax. If you don’t unwind, you’re going to spring yourself rash,” Zemi murmured folding his hands in front of his chin.

“I want answers, Zemi. I’m tired of being the last one to know!”

“If it makes you feel any better, you’re not the last to know… you’re one of the first, in fact,” the Dreigiau winced. There was a strangely subdued look to his face. Like a puppy who had just chewed up the slipper and was trying to find the best way to admit it.

Only, this was a very… big… puppy.

“Okay. Spill it,” Zento pressured, with a deep scowl on his face.

“Will it make you content if I do?” Zemi frowned in return, a slight glitter in his teal eyes.

“Yes.”

“No… it won’t,” the Dreigiau got up from the throne and paced slowly down the stairs.

Zento fell silent, watching. Anger was momentarily replaced with curiosity.

“Anything that I tell you will just feed your anger towards me,” Zemi intoned, waving his hands. “Anything that I don’t tell you will just feed your anger doubly towards me. Zento, I’ve gotten to a point where no matter what I do, I lose. And I don’t know where to take it.”

“Look, I didn’t come here to talk about me…”

“I know. You’re here to chastise at me for putting your son at risk.”

Zento closed his mouth, pressing it into a firm line.

“But I want you to know that it’s a risk that your son chose to take of his own free will. Never did I force him to go,” Zemi waved a hand in the air. “In fact, he was the one that volunteered from the start.”

“Maybe,” Zento’s frown deepened. “But I bet you everything that Tsu is out there acting without knowing the whole story.”

It was Zemi’s turn to fall silent.

“Isn’t he, Zemi Dreigiau?” the winged man thrust one finger forward. “You do to him just like you’ve always done to me. Send us out to fight your battles for you, blindly. Or make us believe you’re trying to achieve one thing, maybe something that we’d like to see happen, while actually working to do something completely different.”

“If you’re still sore about what happened in the Spiral, it all worked out, yes?” the Arweinydd told him with spread hands.

“Yes. That worked out. But what about–”

“And I told you time and again that if you were patient, that your family would come to be with you in Ceiswyr. That has happened, yes?”

“Zemi! It’s not always about the outcomes!” Zento threw both of his hands over his head in exasperation. “You know what your problem is? You only see things based on results. You totally discount the experience and pain that happens on the way to get those results. But that’s not how Earthians work!”

The Dreigiau opened his mouth as if to speak, but the Champion continued, not allowing it.

“Our memories… our very souls… are made up of the passage of time. Of experience. Of what happens day to day,” the winged man shook his head. “Sure, it’s great that you built a beautiful place for your people to thrive. That is a wonderful outcome. But Zemi, if it hurts people along the way to achieve it… and especially if it hurts the people closest to you… maybe you’re going about it all wrong!”

Silence fell over the gardens. A low flying cloud found the perfect time to scuttle down and block away the warmth of the sun. Zento’s chin was up, body posed in a defiant manner. His mind was filled with images of his past… of all the things that had been spurred on by the Dreigiau that had led to this today. Bitterness. Anger. Reproach.

The feeling of shock and horror as he experienced his Awakening, never having been warned of it’s coming. The feeling of fear and exile as he was hunted down like a beast by his own people, none of them knowing what it meant to have wings.

The feeling of deep loss and regret in being forced so far away from his two young sons… the knowledge that he had lost so much time with them. That he was never able to see his youngest boy grow up… that he was never there for TsuYa. And now… TsuYa was sent so far away, into dangerous lands of unknown… chasing the one thing that was destined to destroy them all.

A tempest of emotion swelled from his soul, filling the gardens with a darkness that was more than the shadows of passing clouds. The hurt and pain and suffering of a Champion’s endless sacrifice for his Arweinydd. All which had seemed to have gone unnoticed… with nothing but the goals in mind. Nothing but the next big project. The next city to be established. The bringing of great things to all the other people… everyone except for himself.

And for that moment, Zento chose to be selfish. His voice was full of pain and regret, face hurt and accusing, “I know that a leader has to sacrifice for his people… but Zemi… haven’t I given you enough?”

A despairing, stricken expression flooded Zemi’s face in response. For the first time ever, Zento could feel it — a true trickle of emotion… of deep remorse and sorrow… breaking through the light and shadow of the Dreigiau’s mind.

Of course, the Arweinydd had hints of emotion before that Zento could sense. But most of them were shallow, fickle and fleeting. This… was something far deeper. Far more real. Almost Earthian in nature.

“Oh, Zento… I’m so sorry,” Zemi’s voice cracked. His hands lifted, as if to cover his face, but he didn’t seem to know what the expression meant or how to complete it. So he left them extended, almost a motion of pleading. Searching for guidance. Searching for forgiveness.

Zento felt a pang rush through his chest. No matter how angry he was… no matter how much he felt that Zemi may have been in the wrong… he still cared deeply for the Dreigiau. And the way that the Arweinydd was responding showed that Zemi also cared very deeply for the sacrifice and pain that he had subjected his Champion to.

“Things have not been working out the way I thought they would at all,” the Dreigiau admitted with a thick voice. “In fact, they may be far worse off than I’ve been letting on.”

A ripple of fear rushed over Zento’s body. He didn’t know whether to be afraid, concerned or angry. But so far, anger had done nothing but blind him to the emotions of others… when he was the one who was scolding Zemi for doing that very same thing.

Maybe… Zemi hasn’t been telling me things… because he doesn’t think I’ll be very receptive towards anything he has to say. Then… whose fault is it that I don’t know these things? Is it my own?

The winged man dropped his eyes, a shroud of silence washing away the tension. Silence and understanding of his own shortcomings. Because the truth was, though he was the Champion of the Dreigiau, he had no idea what it was like to be standing in Zemi’s shoes right that moment… or would he ever.

“Alright, Zemi…” Zento peered up with a softness in his eyes. “Tell me what’s going on. I’ll do my best to listen.”

The Arweinydd’s expression responded to the change in Zento’s approach instantly. There was a hint of pain… but also a hint of hope. As if he was dearly yearning for the help and support of his Champion and just didn’t know how to traverse the boundaries that had been placed between them.

“Okay. Let’s talk,” Zemi finally said, looking thankful. He walked over and stat down on the stone steps that lead up to the throne.

Zento followed suit, settling down on the steps next to his Patron. Glancing over, he took a deep breath, the anger and frustration slowly draining out of his frame. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he was making a right choice for someone else.

And as the Arweinydd began to explain, the Champion listened.