Firelight and Moonlight
Anton and his wife had arrived at his uncle's villa on the coast of the Chaegon Empire only that morning, and were met with a joyous welcome from the Grand Prince, his wife, and his daughters. The women had gone to bed, and now only Anton and his Uncle remained in the study. Anton studied his uncle carefully for a moment, and neither man spoke. Andrev's eyes were focused on the fire, and he sipped his wine slowly and without much thought.
"So, how is Oslograd this time of year, my boy?" He said finally, turning his eyes to his nephew.
The Tsar almost flinched, for Andrev had been so quiet until now. "Cold, same as it always is." he replied, and Andrev chuckled.
"Oslograd is a beautiful city, but not one that changes. I remember when your father and I were boys, we'd run through the palace courtyard while father spoke with his own Imperial Cabinet. We'd build castles of snow in the winter, and then snowball them and pretend we were knights sieging a city and winning glory... Your father was always obsessed with that... Glory."
Anton remained silent, turning his own eyes to the flame as it cracked and crinkled quietly.
"I loved your father, he was my brother after all. However, we shared very different paths in life. I'm not sure either of us were truly made for Tsardom, not like your grandfather was. He was bred to be Tsar, a giant of a man with integrity and care for his people. That isn't to say that your father didn't care for his people, he certainly did, but he showed it in a much different way."
"And what way would that be, Uncle?"
"As I said, he wanted glory for Oslad. He dreamed of being like the Tsars and Emperors he had read about in history books, leading knights clad in shining armor and smiting his enemies with divine justice. The irony of it all being he never served a day in the army, never did he have to fight in battle or take a life. I did, I gave years to my countrymen." Andrev leaned forward, his eyes misty and his tone cold and serious. "Did I ever tell you about Verkhiriv?"
Anton shook his head, and his uncle sighed. "I thought not, well... Verkhiriv was a village in eastern Tangaria, near the border with Korenia. That border was often a nuisance to the bureaucrats in Korenia and in Oslad, because the Tangar chiefs didn't respect or care for the integrity of borders. In their culture the sky is the only border for a Tangar, for the sky is where the eternal gods roam. Regardless, I was part of a cavalry regiment stationed in eastern Tangaria, my duty was to ensure the border was kept safe and that neither Korenians or Tangars fought or crossed each other."
The Grand Prince leaned back and finished his wine, turning the empty glass idly in his hands.
"It was summer, a few years before you were born, and we received word that a Tangar bandit group we had been hunting had just returned from Korenia and was in Verkhiriv. We armed ourselves and left our outpost, by nightfall we were on the outskirts of the village. We dismounted and scouted the perimeter, the village was quiet and campfires surrounded the place. We counted no more than twenty men, at least half of them armed with rifles. We planned to wait until most of them had gone to sleep before we'd sneak in and make arrests, and that's what we did."
"Then what's so special? You arrested the bandits." Anton asked, and Andrev simply shook his head. "It didn't play out that way?"
"No. As we encircled the village, one of our men on the other side must have alarmed the few guards still watching over the village. Within seconds utter hell broke loose. Gunfire broke the silence of the night and you could only see silhouettes in the dark, their guns only revealing them for a few moments. We rushed the village, sabers and pistols at the ready. I took one by surprise and grabbed hold of him with my empty hand, he fought back and slammed into me, knocking my revolver to the ground. We wrestled for dominance, and I had to headbutt him just to get him off of me. He went for my gun and I knew I wouldn't be able to stop him in time. So, I unsheathed my cavalry saber and struck him once, then again, and again after that. I must have slashed that dark form of man four or five times before he finally stopped moving, and it was only then that I realized it. He wasn't a large man, shorter than you and scrawny. I didn't think much of it at that time and simply took my revolver and went to the aide of my comrades, the rest of the night was simple and we took no casualties. By sunrise we had to begin clearing bodies from the village, and that's when I saw the man I had killed once again..."
Andrev fell silent and his voice was quickly breaking up, he seemed to be on the verge of tears.
"He was a boy, Anton. No more than fourteen. A god damn child, and I had stabbed him to death with a god forsaken sword... But, it was my duty to stay strong and simply ignore that. I was a soldier and the Tsar's son, I didn't have the choice to break down in tears like I wanted to. So, I put that dead child in the ground with the rest and did not speak of it again. But after that night I swore something to myself... I would never kill again, and I've kept that promise. After I had finished my service I left the army and never went back, and I never stepped foot in Tangaria again."
The two men were silent. Anton didn't know how he was supposed to reply to that, was there even a way to reply? "Have you told anyone else that story?"
"I told your father once, not too long after you were born. He simply told me that I did my job, and if I hadn't killed that boy I would be dead. Sometimes I wonder if things would be better if I had died that night... When the war began, I refused to attend military marches and see the soldiers off to the front like your father did. I couldn't stomach seeing the faces of men I knew would not return home. Anton, promise me you will never follow in mine or your father's footsteps. If there is a way to avoid bloodshed you do it. We can never allow something like the war to ever happen again."
"I promise, Uncle."
For the first time since dinner, Andrev smiled and nodded. "Good, I know you will be the Tsar this country needs now." He rose to his feet and stretched, sighing. "Well I believe it's best I retire for the night. We have a busy day tomorrow Anton, you simply must try some of the Chaegon seafood they serve in town, it's like nothing you've had before."
Anton nodded, chuckling as his uncle gave him a smile and left the study. His smile faded quickly, and his eyes once again fell to the dying fire... The Tsar would not sleep well tonight.
The Study of the Andrev villa, circa 1924.
