Living Through Sacrifice
"Living through sacrifice, living through sacrifice. 'The mountain's steeper than I thought.'"
Sepir said with a light laugh. The air on the island, now that night had fully fallen, wore a completely different face from the day. By daylight, it had seemed like nothing more than an ordinary island rising from the middle of the river. But with the sun fully set, it felt like a patch of land isolated somewhere between river and sea.
The river water gleamed red even in the darkness. Moonlight stretched long across the surface, flowing and shattering into fragments with each ripple. Whenever the wind blew, the water trembled subtly—and somewhere beneath, something moved slowly.
In the distance, the Triangular Whale floated at anchor, a black silhouette. The ship stood quietly on the river, sails furled. The crew was probably watching this way. Their captain had gone up to the island, accompanied by the woman who had declared she would kill him.
But at this distance, no sounds reached them. Only the whisper of wind skimming the river and the faint rustle of grass blades brushing together continued in the quiet.
Philia stood at the mouth of the mountain path. A narrow trail of rock and earth leading to the island's heart. She stood in its center, gazing at Sepir.
Her hair, silver as if holding the moonlight, suited her golden eye—like a predator's—and her blue eye—like a cold sea.
A body and face so beautiful they felt discordant. How did a woman like that end up doing this work?
Sepir shrugged away the stray thought.
"You said you'd wait at the summit."
He spoke. "Why stand at the base?"
Philia's expression was the same as always. The wind stirred a few strands of her hair, just slightly.
A brief silence.
Then she answered. "I went up once."
Sepir tilted his head slightly. "Oh?"
"And came back down."
As she spoke, Philia shifted her gaze just a fraction to the side. Up the mountain. Even in the dark, the path's outline was faintly visible. Trees stood thickly, a thin trail snaking slowly upward toward the peak between them. Wind sighed low through the branches.
Philia said, "To understand others..."
She paused briefly.
"...I need a lot of conversation."
Sepir let out a small laugh at her words. Very small.
"Ha."
He took one more step forward. His boot sole crunched on gravel. A sharp sound, strangely clear in the night's stillness.
Sepir came to stand beside Philia. They were very close now. But neither faced the other. Both looked in the same direction.
Up the mountain. Toward the summit path.
Sepir gazed at it a moment, then said, "So."
His voice was light, as always. "You want to talk more before the execution?"
Philia nodded slightly. "Yes."
Sepir said nothing for a beat. He scratched his chin. Then laughed.
"Fine by me."
He said. "I rather like a good chat."
Sepir inhaled the mountain's fresh scent and chuckled softly. "Still."
He began walking slowly toward the path. "An executioner dragging out time like this? Pretty sweet of you."
Philia ignored his words and stepped forward. They began climbing side by side.
The path was narrow, the soil underfoot mixed with stones in places. Sepir kicked them aside as he went, unhurried. No need to rush. The summit wouldn't run away.
And neither would death.
Suddenly, Sepir spoke. "Lady."
"Speak."
"You."
He asked, eyes ahead. "Do you always climb mountains like this before killing someone?"
Philia thought a moment. Then answered shortly. "No."
"So today is special."
"Yes."
Sepir nodded slightly. "Haha."
He laughed low. "An honor."
Their footsteps matched pace. Gravel crunching. Grass whispering. Far off, the river's low murmur.
Sepir fell silent a while. Then suddenly: "Lady."
"Yes."
"You."
He asked very lightly. "What kind of man do you think I am?"
Philia's step slowed, ever so slightly. But she didn't stop. She thought. Wind passed through the trees. Moonlight shattered through leaves.
Regaining her pace, she said, "I haven't judged yet."
Sepir laughed. "Oh?"
"Yes."
"That's why you climbed up and down twice."
Philia didn't answer. They kept walking. The path grew steeper bit by bit. The summit wasn't visible yet, but through the trees, the river's surface spread wider. The red river. Moonlight stretched long upon it.
Sepir murmured at the sight. "Nice view."
He added, "A good place to die."
He said it laughing, as if commenting on the weather.
Philia showed no reaction. Her gaze stayed forward.
But for the briefest instant—truly the briefest—her hand twitched on her sword hilt.
Thud... thud... Their footsteps passed in hushed conversation.
At last, the summit.
The path ended abruptly, opening the view like tearing a curtain. No more trees. Just low grass bending in the wind. A small plateau of exposed earth and rock. The island's highest point at its center, but smaller than expected. Space enough for a few people to stand and talk.
Yet the vista below didn't suit such a cramped spot. It stretched vast. The red river everywhere. At night, the river showed a different face. By day, a murky torrent. Now, moonlight turned it to dark crimson silk, flowing. Thin mist clung to the surface, tearing and reforming with the wind.
Beyond. Far off. Where river met sea, black waves continued. Buried in darkness, but the horizon's edge faintly discernible. At the boundary, water shaded from red to black. Moonlight traced it silver.
And somewhere in between, the Triangular Whale floated. Sails furled, quiet on the river. Near shadow in the dark... but one small lantern on deck swayed in the wind, casting faint light.
Sepir looked at the ship. Laughed low.
"Hahaha!"
Hands on hips, he drew a slow breath. Night air filled his lungs—cool, damp, laced with river scent.
"Good."
He said. "Good. Yeah. Much better than I thought."
Philia stopped a few steps behind. Silently surveyed. Summit: a few rocks, low grass, wind. No cover. No escape.
She glanced at Sepir. He was already walking to the edge. Standing at the unguarded brink, overlooking the river. Moonlight lay thin on his shoulders and hair. Wind blew harder. His coat hem whipped long behind.
"Lady."
He said. "This'll do."
Philia asked, "What for?"
Sepir answered without turning. "The view."
He gestured at the river. "River's visible."
Slightly aside. "Sea too."
Then behind. "And my ship."
The Triangular Whale's lantern flickered tiny in the dark.
Sepir watched it a moment. Chuckled.
"Ha."
His laugh held an odd weariness. "Better spot than I figured."
He turned slowly. Now facing Philia. A few paces between them. Wind crossed the gap. Grass rustled, bowed, rose.
Sepir said nothing for a while. Then: "So."
His voice still light. "There must be a reason you came all this way."
Philia was silent a moment. Her gaze not on his face, but lower. At his sword hilt.
She opened her mouth. "Yes."
Short answer. Wind blew again. Far off, river water crashed low.
Philia stepped forward slowly. Gravel crunched softly. She stopped.
And said, "During those days on the ship."
Her voice flat as ever. "I observed you."
Sepir's eyes narrowed slightly. But he said nothing.
Philia continued. "Your actions. Your beliefs. And the people you influence."
Wind blew. Strands of her hair drifted across her face.
"At first."
She said. "My resolve to kill you wasn't firm."
Sepir's brow twitched subtly. He laughed.
"That's."
He said. "More welcome news than I expected."
But Philia continued as if not seeing his smile. "So I pondered."
"And."
She paused, just an instant. Truly brief. "Reached a conclusion."
Moonlight glinted faintly on her sword hilt.
Philia said, "Sepir de Hwan."
Her voice unwavering. "You."
A beat of silence.
"Must die."
Wind swept the summit. Grass bowed deep, then rose.
Sepir heard it, said nothing at first. Looked at Philia.
Then, very slowly, nodded.
"My beliefs must offend the Emperor. I know that... but"
Click.
Drawing his cutlass, he focused on her. "I've got families to feed."
His voice still light, like apologizing to an old friend. "Sorry, but I can't go quietly."
Philia impassively raised her Execution Sword. Moonlight flowed long down the blade.
"I hope you kill me and go on your way. I'll be cheering for you."
Her tone held no sarcasm, no emotion. Just a voice stating fact.
"However."
She stepped forward. Stone crumbled low beneath her foot. "That's impossible."
Sepir and she were thinking the same. 'Even knowing you'll win, you want to fight? Foolish girl.'