Chapter 37 TO HELL WITH PEACE
TO HELL WITH PEACE
Acacius
Fat white clouds grazed across the cornflower-blue sky, briefly obscuring the sun’s rays.
Acacius sat on the cliff’s ledge, watching the shadows move over the forest, granting shade to the clearing. Up this high, in the far distance over the ridges, he could see the darkened land of Tenebris.
He thought back to when he’d danced with Marina in the space below, unable to hear or see her beloved village. The outside world also happened to be nightfall, making it undetectable for him to notice that she’d suffocated the noise and sights with her shadows.
Her brilliance stoked his never-ending flame of affection for her.
Acacius rubbed at his chest, the spot where her nightrazer plunged through, feeling the solid flesh under his skin.
His eyes tracked Theon as he roamed the snowy, massacred land, collecting ashes from the Daemon carcasses into a jar.
Something he would take back to the Blood Heretics’ occult lair for them to dissect the fragments for their studies.
Acacius shuddered to think of a new spell that would connect back to him.
Naia and Ronin consoled their child, attempting to cheer him up by creating cartoonish sculptures from the snow.
Marina stood off on the other side of the cliff with Finnian, letting him inspect her.
The few moments of true death had colored a smattering of white streaks throughout her dark hair. A reminder that he’d lost her, but also a reminder that she still lived. A reminder of a new vow to himself to cherish each moment he was granted with her.
Acacius constricted his fingers into a fist, flexing his jaw.
Her death would have never happened had it not been for Soren. Wherever the bastard of trickery was hiding, Acacius would make him a permanent meal, dismembered limb by limb, for his Daemons.
As swiftly as his anger rose, it fell back to his disappointment, thick and so tar-like that he could barely breathe.
Iliana was right.
He was still the same volatile young god, unable to control his own tendencies. Back in his inexperienced days as a deity, his emotions were his urges for destruction. The habit took centuries to break.
He’d done well to learn self-control. Or, at least, he thought he had.
A distinguished pair of footfalls approached from behind, as light as a feather dancing through the air. A trait that, even after thousands of years, had stuck with his older brother.
Cassius plopped down beside Acacius, letting his long legs dangle off the ledge. He squinted out at the cratered holes in the earth, the snapped trees strewn across the frosted ground. His pale strands were windswept, and splatters of blood marred the pristine fabric of his white button up.
Silence trickled between them.
Acacius peered ahead, his disappointment growing heavier in his stomach. He had so much that he wanted to say, but words hardly felt like enough.
I’m sorry for nearly killing Finnian and refusing to believe you when you tried to warn me about Ruelle.
I’m sorry that I lost control and you had to clean up my mess—again.
Acacius sighed and peeked over at his brother.
“You still know how to cause a scene, don’t you?” Cassius turned to face him with an amused twinkle in his gaze. “Since you were a little boy. Do you recall the time you destroyed our home, all because Iliana told you no?”
When they were children, Iliana had forbidden Acacius from roaming the woods with Cassius.
In return, Acacius was furious and, during a fit, smashed their dwellings, leaving them to sleep in the cold.
The three of them curled up under the stars, and by the end of the night, infectious laughter spread between them from the absurdity of Acacius’s dramatic actions.
He let out a breathy chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. “I suppose that once Iliana hears of this, she will come find me, and I will receive a grandiose scolding, one for the ages.”
Cassius casually waved the image of her off before leaning back on the heel of his hand. “Finnian contained your Chaos and Ruin to this area. Though, there were reports of your creatures lurking in Isolde. It seems some escaped before we arrived.”
Acacius was hardly concerned about Isolde or the deities within it.
“How did you know?” he asked, voice low and apologetic.
“Alke has been watching over Ash. I must say, I am relieved to hear that the sightings of your Daemons in the city were false. Alke never spotted Soren, though. It appears the High God is extremely skilled to cast his trickery on a watching boyden.”
Alke was Finnian’s undead bird. It made sense that it would be surveying Ash, given that Finnian could not hear summons due to his impaired ear.
“I am sorry if I caused you any more trouble.” Acacius picked at his thumbnail, his shame burning in his chest. “I never wished to disrupt your peace.”
“Is that why you showed up at my house earlier?”
Acacius looked over at him.
Cassius placed a hand on Acacius’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. “If you have something to say, Brother, I am always willing to listen.”
Acacius held his eyes, more familiar than any home that he’d ever known. “I fucked up. With Ruelle and you. I’m sorry. I should’ve listened to you, but I just…” He ran a hand over his hair, noticing it was no longer tied up. The ends met the tops of his shoulders.
“I know.” Cassius said in a genuine tone, moving his hand back to his lap. “Father ran off and Mother died when you were young. You always held the absence of their love far greater than I or Iliana ever did. Since, it’s all you’ve ever chased.”
Acacius rarely recalled their father, and as for their mother, the last he saw of her was their visit in the Paradise of Rest, back when Cassius escorted him and Iliana to give a final farewell.
She lit up at the sight of his siblings, but barely offered a hug to him.
He’d always felt her detachment toward him, even as a child waddling after her, begging for her attention.
His request was often reciprocated with a scowl or scream.
“You and Iliana were the ones who showed me love,” he confessed, holding a distant gnarl in his chest that felt more visceral in his younger days. Back when the pain of having a mother that detested him still hung heavy on his heart.
“Not many can walk the life we have, cursed to carry our burdens for so long. You’ve done well holding yours, just as Iliana and I have, but it’s time to let go of your fears when what you’ve sought stands right beside you.”
Acacius followed Cassius’s glance to Marina, her face arranged in a flat expression as Finnian pried open her lips to examine the inside of her mouth.
Acacius’s heart warmed at the sight of her.
He nodded to his brother, letting out a long breath. “I miss you.”
Cassius scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I may no longer reside in the realm above yours, but I am still a second away. My home is always open to you, whenever you need me, or if you’d prefer just a visit. I’ve nearly perfected my chili recipe.”
Acacius laughed.
Cassius blinked at him. “I am not joking.”
“I know.” Acacius said it with a broad smile. “That is what makes it all the more amusing.”
Cassius sent him a look. “I’ll feed you a bowl if you promise not to be so reckless in the future. Look at this mess.” He gestured out to the aftermath of his Chaos. “Nathaira is going to have to clean up after you just to keep the mortals from reporting it as some divine war.”
Acacius controlled the width of his smile, the warmth in his heart seeping into his chest at the sound of Cassius’s lecture. “I will be sure and thank her. And I promise to not be so reckless again.”
Cassius chuckled, unable to maintain his chiding expression. “Don’t make promises you cannot keep, Brother. You really are a menace, you know that?”
“I’d love a bowl. Of your chili. Perhaps, Sundays we could dine together?” Acacius looked back towards the land below.
“You must provide a side dish. It’s only good manners, you know.”
Acacius rolled his eyes. “Your nagging knows no bounds.”
Cassius reached over and pinched his arm. “Unbelievable.”
Acacius rubbed at the throbbing place on his skin, grinning.
A quiet wave passed between them.
They both stared out at the horizon, and for the first time, the silence didn’t feel so claustrophobic. Acacius was happy to sit in this moment with his brother, enjoying their reconciliation.
The centuries and memories they shared was like the heat of his forge, tempering their bond so that it could withstand even the harshest of blows. It was one thing he was sure of.
“Naia told me about the meeting with the Council,” Cassius said.
Acacius sighed, the motion folding his shoulders as he exhaled. “Iliana will not intervene in matters involving the child. She wants to save some fucking face, preserve the peace.”
“I thought you hated the demigod and its entire family?”
Acacius turned, meeting Cassius’s inquisitive stare.
It was an awkward question, given Finnian was an inherent part of that family.
“I did. I feared death and the stillness it brought, but then I became close to Marina…” He swallowed the bile at the memory of her corpse.
“As long as I have her, I do not care. She wants to protect the child and have a relationship with Naia, and I will support her, no matter what. Fates be damned, right?”
He recalled the many times Cassius said the phrase to Finnian, and took the opportunity to lighten the conversation.
Cassius grumbled and flicked his forehead. “Do you always have to listen in on private conversations?”
Acacius placed his fingers over the welt. Cassius had shown his affection like that since they were boys.
Acacius smiled wide as nostalgia bloomed in his chest. “What can I say? You inspire me.”
Some things, no matter the time between them, never changed. For this, with Cassius, he was grateful.
“Ash will not be harmed.” Cassius’s demeanor hardened with resolve as he held Acacius’s gaze. “To hell with peace.”
“Finally something that we can agree upon.” Acacius reached over and returned the playful ire, ruffling Cassius’s hair.
Cassius batted him away, smoothing his strands off to the side. “Such terrible manners,” he muttered.
Acacius laughed, the tension in his insides giving way as he held onto his brother’s solemn promise.
Another shared thread between them.