"I, Cesar of the House Martinez have committed a crime of the soul."
- From Cesar Martinez's confession to the White Order
…
- From Cesar Martinez's confession to the White Order
…
The water blanketed his naked feet as the waves made their dedicated attempt to swallow the coast. Foam gathered between his toes as the water receded from the shore, brazing itself for its next charge. It was a silent day at the beaches of Farah'deen.
It had been a lonely year.
Blonde hairs glittered under the intense desert sun, making a dull mimicry of the floating amber orb. His pale skin had started to pinken as it burnt under the light of the celestial object. There were no clouds in the heavens. Still, with every breath that he took, a bone-white smoke would offend the blue sky. The opium offered him peace. It offered him peace from the angry heavens. It offered him peace from solitude.
The ocean always did have that smell, he thought, as the briny air opened his lungs.
This water was different. This was not the water that he had walked on for months. This water reflected the sky, not the underside of a street. When he walked across the coastline, he was not walking among the concentrated waste of men. Nay; when he walked across the coastline, he was walking among the tears of gray clouds and the blood of sharp mountains.
When you stand on the coast and the waves recede from your feet, it feels like the ocean is trying to beckon you closer. The crashing of the waves is like a siren's song that calls upon men to join them for the eternal funeral at the bottom of the sea.
But the sirens did not sing his father's song.
When his father would sing, flames danced. His father's fire had taken the lives of many people. His father named him Ignacio, from the word ignite. He was his father's fire, which had taken the lives of many people.
Ignacio pressed his hands into fists as the sun mercilessly burned into his skin. He stepped deeper into the water, sighing with relief as the coolness of the ocean kissed his skin. Giving one last look at the sun, Ignacio surrendered himself to the water. He submerged himself, leaving the hand with the pipe of opium above the surface as he took refuge from the heaven's anger.
The boy rose from the water after a few moments, using his spare hand to wipe away the stinging salt from his eyes. When he opened them, their deep blue focused on the desert once more. Lips to the pipe again, Ignacio tasted the past and walked back to the shore.
Rising with the tide, Ignacio looked back at the ocean and said goodbye.
And the ocean whispered back:
Shhh... Shhh... Shhh...
Shhh... Shhh... Shhh...
Shhh... Shhh... Shhh...
Shhh... Shhh... Shhh...
Shhh... Shhh... Shhh...
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