Page 137 of The Concubine King
Dihen had not stayed with Kyarin, but had returned to the forest while Vaire was away.Vaire does not need to speak his gratitude; Dihen can feel it.
‘He will not come out,’ Vaire tells him of Geom.
‘We cannot force him,’ Dihen says.
‘We cannot lose our last brother.’
‘He is not lost.Neither is darkness.’
‘Darkness abandoned us.’
‘He wants to live.You should understand that best.’
Understanding is not enough.
Vaire and Dihen spend the decades wandering what is left of the untouched forest and coastline, keeping it free of human destruction.It is not the same without Kyarin.Though Vaire can feel his presence, far off in human territory, he cannot feel their hands clasped together, cannot feel Kyarin’s breath on his lips or skin on his skin.The intimacy of their connection is only an illusion in an expanse that cannot be breached.
It is never the same again, but Vaire finds solace in Dihen’s company, as they find comfort in Vaire’s.The years pass, quiet, empty, but they are grateful for each other.
One day, in the mountains, a sleeping presence stirs.
Vaire’s excitement curdles to dread when Geom’s first emotion is fear.
He leaves Dihen to run through the forest, knowing as he does that he is too far from the mountains.But there is a chance Geom can hold them off, he creates the strongest material of all the gods—until a sharp tug, then crippling pain sends Vaire to the ground.Geom is gone.
His scream sends the birds rippling out of the canopy.He burrows his head in his hands and folds over, as though the gaping hole inside him can be closed with only his body.It can’t.It won’t.But he cannot leave Dihen alone now, not now.
The sense of Kyarin with them stops Vaire in his tracks.What small relief it might have been is dashed by Kyarin’s dread and pervading sorrow, and Dihen’s understanding and acceptance.
Vaire sprints.He comes into sight of Kyarin standing before Dihen just as Kyarin wrests their heart from their chest.
“Darkness!”Vaire bellows into the space between them with all the desperate anger and disbelief and horror he feels.Kyarin looks up and meets his eyes with harrowing sorrow.He crushes Dihen’s heart in his hand.
The agony jerks Vaire forward with a cry.Fury lurches him to his feet.Roots wrap around Kyarin’s ankles and vines around his wrists, pulling him taut.
‘What are you doing?’Kyarin jerks at the tethers, lifting his gaze with a hurt confusion that only fuels Vaire’s anger.
He advances.
‘They said it had to be one of you!’Kyarin cries.‘I couldn’t—”
Vaire thrusts his arm into the icy cold of darkness’s chest.His words cut short in an agonized gasp, but it is nowhere close to the pain and disbelief in his eyes as he looks up at Vaire.
Vaire can feel it as he rips out the black mass of darkness’s heart.In his hand it is as dark and cold as the void of space.
‘You can’t,’ darkness pants, voice shuddering.‘You wouldn’t.’
He knows it will hurt.It will torture.It will leave him utterly alone.He bites back his sobs and wraps his fingers around the heart.Crushes it to black mist.Vaire’s own heart bleeds dry with the dissipating dust slipping through his fingers.
Kyarin hangs slack against his restraints.His chest still heaves.
‘Wh—why—” Vaire stammers, breathless.‘Why aren’t you dead?’He does not know if the strangle of his heart is despair or relief.
‘I am a human god now.’Kyarin lifts his chin and meets Vaire’s eyes.The wide-eyed disbelief has shifted to a piercing hurt and anger that speaks as clear as if they are still connected, a deep betrayal that sears into Vaire’s mind.This can never be forgiven.
Kyarin shrinks, hands and feet vanishing from the binds holding them.A bird shoots into the air in a burst of fluttering wings and darts out of sight among the trees.
Vaire stares at the emptiness left behind, breaths heavy, heart heavier.Existence is unbearable in its solitude.
