Chapter 6
Not an hour had passed before his father's fever grew unexpectedly violent. His body was quickly drenched in sweat and he was plagued by a relentless fit of coughing. His eyes had rolled into the back of his head and he had long since become incoherent.
Alistar could still hear his mother's desperate voice as she called out to his father in the dim light of the cavern. "Rodei! Rodei! Don't leave me, Rodei! Don't leave your son! Not here! Not like this... Rodei!" Her voice bounced off of the walls and the ceiling in a diminishing echo. Alistar could still see the glossy film that coated his uncle's fast-blinking eyes; he had also been calling out to his father in a choked voice but seemed to have resigned himself.
He may have been young at the time, but Alistar had known that something terrible was happening right before his eyes. His father was in agony. Even in the weeks prior, he'd never seen him in so much pain. It didn't make any sense to him. Just a handful of months ago his father had been a source of comfort and strength, in completely good health. How could he have arrived at this state in such a short time? The hours scraped by with little change in his father's condition. It looked as if he were asleep. It was then that Alistar remembered Kaila's parents and the countless others before them. They had all fallen asleep and failed to leave their dreams. Something had told him that a similar situation was happening to his father. It was then that he was suddenly gripped by a suffocating fear, a fear that possessed him and threw him into a frenzied state of panic. He began calling out to his father, screaming Papa over and over again just like he'd always asked him too. His father had preferred it that way, although Alistar had always thought that Father sounded more fitting. Father sounded stronger than Papa.
Alistar didn't care that everyone could hear him. He screamed until his voice was hoarse, over and over again, clinging to his father's sunken torso with burning tears in his eyes. He remembered the feeling of his father's ribs, cold and hard and unfamiliar beneath his clothing. It was as if the man had been sucked dry of the muscles he'd been so proud of. Unable to stand it, Alistar crawled forward and cried onto his chest, his choking sobs now taking the place of his father's spluttering coughs. His mother cried in silence as she watched him, wiping away at a line of blood that had escaped his father's cracked lips. He would never forget the expression she'd worn at that moment. It was an expression that he never wanted to see her make again. The look on her face had told him that his father had gone to sleep, and that they would never see him again.
Just as the thought had entered his mind, a cold, calloused hand caressed his cheek gently. His father's arm was shaking from the effort, his face worked into an unfamiliar grimace with his eyes sealed shut. A single tear trickled down to his ear. He began taking deeper, more strained breaths. It was as if he could no longer breathe. But still his bony hand cupped Alistar's cheek.
In feeling his father's touch, Alistar glanced at his mother with false hope in his eyes, but it was quickly dashed by the pain that was evident on her face. He remembered his father's expression as they watched Kaila's father being carried away, and it was then that he finally understood that there was more than one way to experience pain.
Unable to bear the look on his mother's face, he directed his gaze downwards for a moment. It was then that he noticed that his father's other hand had found its way over to hers. Alistar's vision had long since blurred from the river of stinging tears, but he cleared his eyes with a quick rub from his dirty forearms and stared resolutely at his father's strained figure. If his father really was going to sleep, then he would watch him unwaveringly until the moment came. If this was the last time he would see his father, then he shouldn't spend it looking away, is what he had thought.
He stared down at the man who had raised him and carved his likeliness into his mind, not as he saw him at the time but as he remembered him from the earlier days of his life. Confident in posture, he had a full body of tightly sculpted muscles that were evidence of stern self-discipline and proof of his hard work. Strong hands as warm as his mother's bosom, easily reliable and full of power. A kind smile that was unrivalled in how it stirred you.
He'd thought about the pride he felt whenever he stared into those dependable eyes of deep gold that had always seemed to understand, eyes often hidden by a wild mane of honey-brown hair. He'd always looked so cool, had seemed to know everything. When a quarrel would break out amongst the slaves it was his father who many would seek out to resolve the issue and it was his father who those involved would eventually listen to, despite his being a slave himself. When the guards lost themselves in their power or treated the slaves otherwise unfairly, it was his father who would selflessly put himself at the forefront of the dispute and it was his father who would risk focusing their ill intent on himself while pleading reason and mercy on behalf of the others. And it was his father that some guards would strangely listen to at such times.
To him, his father's existence was vibrant and warm, a beacon of reassurance in the darkness of the mines. It was warmer than the lamps that hung systematically throughout the tunnels, the precious lamps that illuminated Alistar's dim little world. It was warmer than the light of the flower's crystal, a gentle glow that could easily stave off the heaviest curtain of darkness. It was warmer still than the rush that would take him when he used to explore the tunnels with Kaila, together in a state of mock-independence and careless exhilaration. And it took him until that moment to fully understand this.