He is not a good man.
Truthfully, he has known this for years. The myths and stories his parents told him when he was younger only confirm this: Necromancers can never be truly good. Those who have dealings with death are dangerous and bloodthirsty and heartless. He supposes that the stories must be right. It is only the most despicable of figures in the myths who kill their own family, and he has killed his own brother.
He is the only one left.
He has nightmares, sometimes, about Cairo. They are always the same, and he supposes that is because it is less of a nightmare and more of a memory. Nightmares aren't real, and sometimes memories aren't, either, but this one is. His nightmares are memories, and they are terrible, and real. His parents are dead: his mother is dragged by her hair out to the streets; his father follows, waking Radomir with the words protect your brother, and hide, and stay safe. His father follows, and the streets catch fire. There is the scent of burnt flesh, the desire for revenge that settles cold and deadly in his heart, his stomach, his mind, but he cannot give in. He cannot avenge his parents when his father's demand that he protect Sal still echoes in his mind.
He protects Sal: from the Muggles, from their parents' deaths, from himself.
It is a year, give or take, before he sees Sal again, and it hurts. This time, they are not standing shoulder to shoulder; Radomir cannot touch his brother, cannot be certain that Sal would even want him to. They are not standing side by side; they are not standing in solidarity; they are standing, facing each other, as Sal speaks to him, as Sal makes concessions, as Sal begs him to stop, and he can't. He cannot stop, cannot stifle the icy desire for revenge, cannot…
He releases the bodies he has enslaved and retreats. Sal does not follow him.
He is not a good man.
He has killed far too many innocent souls. He has wrapped himself in a cloak that burns and freezes in equal measure - as though he has woven it from the burning currents of the Pyriphlegethon, and those of the Styx which freeze and destroy - that destroys him and brings him back to life, that brings him peace even when he rushes into war. He supposes that is the way of revenge: it sucks the life out of a person, enslaves them, so that they are no longer truly their own. He - his desires, his gifts, his goals, his mind, his spirit - does not belong to himself any longer.
He is not a good man.
Good men do not raze cities to the ground for revenge. They do not rename themselves Cain and their brothers Abel. They do not take their brother's legacy and destroy it, and they do not lie about who they are. They do not hate an entire group of people for their blood. They do not raise the dead and enslave their spirits.
Radomir does.