#bladekeeper

Rath was not one for stalking about the ship in the wee hours of the night, but he was restless. He was still having the nightmares that kept him awake. But they were easier to deal with.

 Nevertheless he still needed to find ways to calm himself down after his usual night terrors. Walking usually helped him clear his mind, so here Verod was, pacing around Nova’s corridors like some mad man.

He was on his third lap of the ship when he passed by a slightly opened door. Odd, he thought as he reached to close it, I could have sworn this was closed a moment ago. Just as he gripped the handle he heard a muffled hiss from behind the door, then the fragrant smell of matches hit him like a thrall’s fist. 

He opened the door a crack more and peered inside. There was Day in the center of her bedroom, a candle in front of her and her partially burnt fingertip in her mouth. What in the name of Lenore was she doing?

Beyond all known logic, Rath had become oddly attached to this girl. She had her father’s eyes, but nothing else about her reflected him in any way. If what she was doing was hurting her in any way, what choice did he have but to intervene?

Day wagged her finger in the air for a moment after pulling it from her mouth. The pain was just a dull throbbing now. Though it was still noticeable enough that she questioned lighting the match again. What was she doing wrong? She had the candle, the matches, what else was there to lighting a candle?

She reached for another match when a hand suddenly grabbed her wrist. She gasped in surprise and yanked it away before she turned around. Right behind her was Rath, his face tired and yet plastered with a strange, subtle form of concern that only he could pull off.

“Verod?...” She questioned as he knelt beside her and grabbed her hand again. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“Shouldn’t you?’ His retort was dry but his touch was gentle as he examined her finger. “Does it hurt at all?”

“No. Well, yes, but only a little bit. I’m fine.” She attempted to pull her hand away again but was just met with a shush as he examined it closely.

“Really, Verod, I’m fine! Now if you don’t mind-”

“I do, as a matter of fact. Why are you in here playing with fire?” True the younger jennerit had her coping mechanisms, but they usually didn’t involve her nearly burning herself.

Her face morphed into one of slight offence and she tried to pull her hand away. “I’m not playing with fire, I’m...” her answer was delayed and she cast her eyes to the floor. This only worried the Keeper more.

“You’re doing what?” 

She took a deep breath before answering. “I’m making a candle alter.... For my father.”

His stomach twisted up into knots at the mere mention of Rendain. Had she not rid herself of him? Why would she ever want to mourn his loss?

“By the Empress, why would you put yourself through this? Let alone keep a small monument to him on-board NOVA?” His words were thought come to life, never meant to be said. But they had been and in a more venomous tone that what he intended. 

She glared back up at him, her mouth morphed into a scowl and tears verging on the edge of her eyes.

“Don’t you think if i could forget him I would?” Her voice was soft as to not wake anybody else up, but the hurt drenched whatever she said in a pathetic misery “I know the monster that he became, Rath. I was there for it all. I saw first hand what he was turning into.”

“I was there when he killed Lenore, I was there when he struck a deal with the Varelsi, I was there. But I’m not mourning that man. I’m not crying over the beast that helped darken those stars. I am mourning the death of my father.”

She was crying at this point, her eloquent words having turned into broken sobs as she thought of the man Lothar used to be. The one who helped her braid flowers into her hair. The father who would have tea with her every Sunday since she was small. 

She missed her father so much.

Rath simply stayed in place, almost stunned by what he just heard, though he did not express it. His searing hate for Rendain was made clear when he made the killing blow, but to see that he was so important to Day...

It changed nothing. He still hated him. If he had the chance he would kill him again. He had never considered, however, the side of him that had raised his daughter. 

Rendain was a bastard, through and through, but his daughter wasn’t. Well,. not all of the time.

Rath released his grip on her wrist and watched as she used her now free hand to cover her mouth. This really was a heartbreaking sight. All she wnated was to light a single candle for a memory. Was that too much to request?

Day continued her sobbing when she suddenly heard the distinct sound that had been in her room and her mind for the last thirty minutes. A match running over the edge of it’s box. She looked up and saw Rath lighting the small white candle between them. 

“Verod...”

He said nothing at first as he waved away the remaining match flame. He simply looked to the candle. Once he did speak, his voice was just as stoic as his presence, though the usual edge was almost completely gone.

“I mourn for what used to be as well, you know. I miss how proud our people used to be, how united the Empire was under the leadership of our Empress.”

“I may have hated the man your father became, but you deserve to weep for who he once was.”

Day was speechless. What was there to say? She thought that, of all people, Rath would be the one to disapprove of her mourning Rendain the most. But he seem to understand why she was so sad. She mourned for her father just as he mourned for his Empress.

He was about to get down to leave when he felt a hand grip his wrist and pull him back down into an almost too tight embrace. “Thank you, Rath...”

He was still for just a moment before hugging her back, all be it in a looser.