+ Fallacy, a 100themes Challenge +
Sarehptar
Theme: 9, Drive
Characters: Kharl, Rath
Pairing: None
Warnings: None
Need to Know Info: Book 9 again, just a slightly earlier moment.
Title Provider: We Might as Well be Strangers (Keane)
We Might as Well be Living in a Different World, We Might as Well be Strangers
He knows what is coming, he knew it before, ages ago, knew it before coming out here had ever become his intention. The words strike him like blades, and Rath doesn't need to do anymore than hiss the Alchemist's name with distaste—that is painful enough. That is more painful than the sword, the very blade Rath seeks to end his life with, could ever be. Kharl is silent, because there seems to be no fitting words, and he wonders if, after all that has happened, anything he could ever say would be sufficient.
Rath's eyes are hard as the steel he wields, harder, and the coldness in them is as sharp as shards of ice, as inviting as a blizzard of falling snow. Kharl regrets that a boy –so young, still!– could have eyes so shadowed by violence, by bloodshed. It seems a mockery of innocence, the pale red depths that should have, once were, so bright and open. Somewhere inside, he knows that it is his fault; everything is his fault, but he ignores it, because if he won't admit it's true then it is not. The Dragon Prince's eyes promise him a swift and painful death, and Kharl remembers a time when they promised so much more.
The ash stills the air between them, until he feels like they are sharing the same poisonous, precious breaths. He knows that he is going to die, and for a moment it doesn't matter. Because it is Rath, Rath who he lives for. There is a horrible sort of knowledge in that: that his life would count for nothing if Rath were to die. There is a horrible sort of irony in the hatred and the love that fights and embraces between them.
The black-winged angel can only stare, as if he is afraid to believe his own eyes, as if he is afraid to find his father suddenly standing before him. It is cold—not just his gaze, but the forest around them—and Kharl thinks it will begin to snow. It seems only fitting.
For a moment, the Alchemist wonders what has brought him here, wonders what force has dragged him to this undesired meeting? What feeling made this body cross the ocean to see him, only see him. Surely it was not hope. There is nothing left to hope for, because Rath will never love him. He came here knowing that, it will be the last thing he will know: Rath's hatred runs as strongly as the foreign blood in his veins.
He thinks it foolish suddenly, to have come. And it is foolish, but that never would have stopped him. He cannot put a name to it, but there is something driving him to this rendezvous, driving him to look into Rath's sharp eyes, to beg without words for forgiveness.
He cannot name it, but there is something in the confusion on Rath's face, something in the ghost of a childish smile he remembers so well, something in the shared blood that keeps them both alive. There is something in their memories that drives him to wish for love and settle for hatred.
"Sayonara, Chichi-ue."
"It's been a long time, Rath."
Translation Note: Sayonara, Chichi-ue means "Good-bye, father." However, it contains a lot of connotations that English doesn't have. Sayonara has a strong note of finality in it, and it is considered somewhat bad luck to say this if you intend to see that person ever again. Saying Sayonara implies an end. Chichi-ue is an extremely respectful way to say father, meaning more accurately "my honored father". It implies a great deal of reverence and respect, but can also imply distance and inequality.