Burning Bright

by Megan Derr

  Apparently deciding to leave him alone, Raz prowled the suite of rooms. Dym watched him surreptitiously whenever he wandered into his line of sight, smiled faintly when he saw Raz stop at the door to the bathing pool and gawk at it.

  He was not surprised when Raz vanished into the bathing room. Dym finished pulling out his own clothes, trying not to think about Raz getting a bath. There was no way he would be able to bathe Raz as he had bathed all the previous Vessels.

  Dym waited until the sound of Raz cleaning himself ceased before he finally abandoned the bed chamber. He entered just as Raz emptied a second bucket of rinsing water over himself and froze, and he almost withdrew before he caught himself. Raz smiled and set the bucket aside, moved to the bathing pool, and slipped into it. "I don't think I've ever found anything like this in the Cathedral of Ashes."

  "They should be there unless they were filled in at some point," Dym replied quietly, slowly stepping further into the room. "I used to live there rather than here." Sometimes he missed it, but not often. The Cathedral of Ashes held too many painful memories, even if the Cathedral of Sacred Fires had endured all the sacrifices.

  Raz nodded. "I'm sorry I nearly destroyed it. I didn't mean to."

  Dym smiled faintly, staring down from the edge of the pool, amused despite himself. "The damage will be easy enough to repair."

  "Going to join me?" Raz asked, leaning back so his head rested on the edge, closing his eyes and sighing.

  "No," Dym said quietly, feeling his cheeks heat. Raz was moments from being sacrificed, but that did not seem to keep Dym from responding to Raz's beauty, the flush to his skin, and the way his curly hair clung to his face and neck. Eminence had always been hopelessly out of reach, but that had never stopped Dym from wishing.

  Unable to bear it a moment longer, Dym abandoned the bathing chamber. He gathered up his clothes and retreated to the sitting room. Changing quickly, he sat down on the sofa and tried to calm himself. He had done it literally nine hundred and ninety nine times. There was no reason to falter at the final, most crucial moment. He must remain strong.

  Thoughts flickered through his mind, whipping about like flames in a strong wind, refusing to settle. No matter how hard he tried, his usual calm would not return to him. It just had to, he thought miserably. If he failed now, he failed everyone. Not just Pozhar, but the world. He had to fix his mistake. He might never be forgiven, but at least he would be able to say that he had not failed.

  Restless, he stood up and moved to stand in front of a painting of the days when the Cathedral of Ashes was first being built. Long before his time, but he remembered all the stories told to him about it. He had given his very first service in the Cathedral of Ashes, scared and voice too low to carry, but Eminence had smiled at him warmly after and kissed his brow in approval.

  It was also the Cathedral of Ashes where Raz had first lashed out at his people, badly burning half a dozen of them. After that, people had been scared. Eminence had hated himself for days. But the anger and the bitterness continued to grow. The days of proud kisses to his brow and afternoons beneath the apple tree faded. Worst of all had been when the singing had stopped.

  Then the riots, the anger, the dismissal. Dym's eyes stung thinking of that last night, the smoke and fire, finding Zhar Ptitsa dead at the hands of his own people.

  People with eyes that had turned violet, and he realized that Teufel had been the one behind it all. They'd already started the ceremony to destroy Zhar Ptitsa forever, and it had taken nearly the all the strength and magic that Dym possessed to turn the spell and break his Eminence into pieces.

  He remembered killing the corrupted bastards with his remaining strength. He remembered how he had managed to live.

  Dym turned when he heard Raz and stared in surprise for a moment, before shaking his head and laughing ever so faintly. He really should not have been surprised that Raz would reject the formal robes and opt instead for simple breeches, shirt, and waistcoat. "Of course you wanted nothing to do with the robes."

  Raz just smiled in reply. "So what do we do now?"

  The bells began to ring halfway through his question, and Dym waited until they had faded before answering, "We begin."

  "What do I do?"

  "Walk behind me, stop in front of the altar and keep your head bowed. I'll handle the rest, until … well, you'll know." Dym looked away and headed toward the door.

  Raz stopped him, grabbing onto his wrist and tugging so that Dym had no choice but to turn and face him. "You look so sad. Shouldn't you be happy that the end is finally here?"

  Dym shook his head and smiled wearily. "It's hard to feel happy after being anxious and scared for so long. I cannot relax, cannot rest, until it is truly over. Do not mind me, Eminence."

  "I'm not Eminence," Raz said, stepping closer. It almost made Dym smile, despite everything, at the way Raz had to tilt his head so far back to look up at him. Though he could be any height—any shape—he wanted, he had always been short, slight, and wiry: a fluttering bird alongside his larger siblings.

  Raz twined his arms around Dym's neck, reached up on his toes, and took a real kiss, and though Dym tried to resist, he simply was no match for Raz's heated persistence. Dym tried to memorize the warmth and feel and flavor of him, knowing he should not, yet unable to resist, and happy he would have the memory.

  "Why do you keep doing that?" Dym asked when Raz finally ended the kiss.

  Raz immediately stole another one, softer, slower, and sweeter, making Dym shiver. "Because I want to and a last kiss is tradition."

  "Not that kind of kiss."

  "Well, I'm the last, I get a special one." Raz let him go. "Shall we?"

  Dym nodded, drawing a deep breath and letting it out slowly. He reached back and pulled up his hood, hiding his face from view. Raz frowned, anger briefly filling his eyes. Reaching up, he shoved the hood back. "You're my priest, you do not hide."

  "As you wish," Dym replied, startled. "It's a tradition they began to require … oh, centuries ago, perhaps three, maybe four."

  "It ends now," Raz said and motioned for Dym to precede him from the room.

  The cathedral fell silent as they entered. Inside was dark save for shreds of insufficient candlelight. Even the windows provided no additional light, all of it having been blocked by the relentless snow outside. Dym walked down the aisle between the pews, head up as he walked toward the altar.

  Off to one side of the altar, Ivan, Shio, Shinju, and Krasny stood waiting. Raz smiled at them as he and Dym reached the altar. Dym watched and waited while Raz walked over to them and extended his hands. Shio took them, and he leaned up to kiss her cheek. He did the same with Shinju. Ivan he embraced. "Thank you for all your help, your grace."

  Ivan shook his head, but said nothing.

  "Thank you," Krasny said softly and bowed to him. Raz smiled and nodded.

  Farewells attended, Raz turned and faced the assembly. Not a single seat was empty, and still more people stood around the edges, filled the back of the room, and seemed near to toppling over the mezzanine level. Raz went down on both knees before them and bowed his head as Dym began to speak.

  Dym recited the prayers, not surprised when Raz began to recite them with him. The words seemed to resonate through the cathedral, echoed, filled the enormous space nearly to the point it seemed that it would burst.

  When at last the prayers faded away, Dym could hear more than a few people sobbing. Raz lifted his bowed head and said, "The fires of Zhar Ptitsa will always warm you, always light your path, always guide you from one life to the next. Fear nothing, but be warmed and comforted."

  Standing, he turned and moved around the altar and to the door at the very back. In a loud, clear voice, he said, "Open in the name of Zhar Ptitsa."

  Dym followed behind him, heart thudding, hands shaking within the folds of his robes. Inside the chamber, once the door had closed behind them, Raz approached the black marble altar against the far wall. Sitting on top of it, he
drew his legs up, crossing and folding them under him. He smiled crookedly at Dym and with a thought, summoned the Flames to burn him.

  Dym remained standing, but only barely, as he watched Raz burn. He cried openly as the flames died down and nothing save an enormous piles of ashes remained. For several long, agonizing minutes there was nothing but stillness and silence.

  Then beams of light began to appear from the ashes, growing so great that Dym was finally forced to shield his eyes. He wondered distantly how the world beyond that little room was affected, but then the light began to fade.

  He opened his eyes slowly. Tears immediately blurred his vision, and he sank to his knees, no strength left in him, when he saw Raz sitting on the altar again—but more than Raz because his hair was a more vibrant red, fading to oranges and yellows at the tips. His eyes glowed like flames, and the heat and power pouring off him was enough to leave on ordinary mortal reeling and struggling for breath.

  "Eminence," he gasped out, relief and happiness and the end of over nine hundred years of waiting finally at an end. He sobbed as arms wrapped around him and held him tightly, unable to do anything else. Over. It was finally over and he'd done it: he'd brought all the scattered, lost pieces of Zhar Ptitsa back together and restored the Lost God of Pozhar.

  "Sweet, faithful Dym," Zhar Ptitsa said softly, pulling back and tilting Dym's head up. "I cast you out in anger and told you not to come back. I drove you away and died hating myself for it. Yet here you are, the very same as the day I lost you. How are you here?"

  Dym laughed shakily, wiping his tears away with shaking hands. "The apples, Eminence. I went to the manor to fetch an apple to make you happy just like I used to do before … before it all went wrong. It was still in my robe."

  "You ate a golden apple?" Zhar Ptitsa asked disbelievingly. "But—mortals can't eat those, Dym. It should have driven you mad."

  Laughing again, an almost hysterical edge to it, Dym said. "Eminence, I am nine hundred and thirty-six years old. I have killed one thousand people to bring you back, and that does not include those who died trying to help or hinder me. Not once have I faltered in or turned away from my sole objective. What makes you think I am sane? No apple, no matter how powerful, could overcome the madness of being hopelessly in love with a god—and one I failed. Guilt and love trump apples, Eminence."

  "Sweet Dym, I do not deserve you," Zhar Ptitsa breathed, and he kissed away the fresh tears on Dym's cheeks before taking his mouth.

  Dym gasped, unable to stop crying, scared to return the kiss he had never dared to hope for—that Raz had kissed him was no guarantee that Zhar Ptitsa would. "Eminence … "

  Zhar Ptitsa laughed softly. "You do not have to call me that, Dym. I told you, I'm just Raz."

  "Raz?" Dym repeated, staring at him. "Yes, I suppose you are. Raz was just you, but mortal. I was afraid that was how you wanted to remain."

  "But you still did what was right, exactly as you should," Raz replied and finally stood, gently tugging Dym with him. He cupped Dym's face and drew him into another kiss, not relenting until Dym began to kiss him back. Raz tasted like smoke, like wine, and something sweet beneath all of that—the taste of golden apples on a warm summer day. "Thank you for saving me, Dym."

  "I will always save you, Eminence," Dym replied.

  Raz kissed him again. "No better Priest of Ashes could ever exist, and I am grateful that I still have you. I do love you, Dym. I died regretting I never admitted that, to you or myself."

  "Eminence—" Dym choked, tears burning his eyes again, and he wondered if he would ever manage to stop crying.

  Smiling, Raz just kissed him again, and then held him close until Dym finally steadied. "Come," Raz said. "We've some minor business to attend." Holding fast to Dym's hand, he opened the door and stepped back out into the main sanctuary.

  The crowd was gone, and moonlight shone through the windows, casting dark jewel light down on the four people remaining: Shio, Shinju, Ivan, and Krasny.

  "I thought so," Krasny said.

  "The mermaids were telling the truth," Ivan said, staring in awe at Raz.

  Raz beamed at all of them. "Well, it's a good sign that the Tsar and newest duke do not look alarmed by my presence."

  "I prefer a happy end to a tragic," Krasny said. "Ivan told me what the mermaids told him, and I had my suspicions anyway. I am glad you are returned to us, Holiness, and not the vengeful god that history has made you out to be."

  "The Priest of Ashes did what was necessary to see me brought back," Raz replied, tugging Dym forward and smiling gently up at him. "I am sorry he carried so heavy a burden, but now I am restored I can make it up to him and to my children."

  Letting go of Dym, he beckoned Shio and Shinju forward. Embracing them, kissing their cheeks, he said, "Tell my brothers you are forgiven, and all your sisters, and no further grudge will be tolerated. Return to your seas, daughters."

  "Thank you," Shio and Shinju said quietly, and with a faint rumble of thunder they vanished from the cathedral.

  Raz turned to Ivan, beckoning him forward. "You look overwhelmed, Vanya."

  "I woke up this morning a mercenary certain he was letting a good man die for no good reason. Now suddenly I am a duke who has helped bring a god back to life. What am I supposed to be but overwhelmed?"

  Laughing, Raz reached out and lightly touched his forehead. "Yet every life you have ever lived, you have assisted the gods, the crown, leaders of all sorts. You have always been there for Pozhar, Wolf. You're a good man yourself whatever else you try or claim to be. You aren't finished helping people, either."

  Ivan scowled. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean there is a white cat you are destined to see again."

  "A white cat?" Ivan repeated, scowl turning into disbelief with a hint of longing.

  Raz smiled. "Yes, but first I think you have a duchy to set to rights. Go find your men, Vanya, and go settle into your new home. The snow will no longer impede you." Ivan nodded and, after bowing to both Raz and Krasny, left.

  "I always said you seemed too old for your age," Krasny said to Dym. "I hope you are happy now, Dym."

  Dym nodded, still not entirely certain he could speak.

  Raz stepped close to Krasny and gripped his shoulders. "Thank you for helping him and being a friend. I promise that I see happiness in your future as well, Kolya."

  Krasny smiled wryly. "Probably in the next life. I think people know that something is amiss. I must go and address it." He did not wait for Raz to reply, simple bowed before turning and walking away.

  "Now what?" Dym asked when they were alone, but his words were nearly drowned out by the crashing sound of thunder, and the cathedral filled with light from the burst of lightning beyond.

  He blinked and four men stood before them, clustered at the base of the altar. "Holy Dragons," Dym greeted, bowing low. "It is good to see you returned to us as well." He rose and walked toward them, bowing again to the fourth man. "You are the new Priest of Storms. I am Dym, Priest of Ashes."

  "Taka, and I'm still not really sure I'm used to being a priest of anything," Taka said with a wry smile. "Raiden has mentioned you before. He thought you were still around despite the fact you apparently should not be."

  "Apples," Raz said, smiling. "Lizards, how are you? I see much has changed." He looked at Raiden. "I am sorry."

  Raiden shrugged and said, "I am too, but I cannot change the past. My new brothers are bearable." He gestured. "Nankyokukai and Kindan."

  Raz smiled at them, but his levity faded when he said, "So that is four gods restored, and now we must wait to see if our brother Basilisk will join us."

  "As you say," Raiden said. "We must wait and see. It is good to have you back, little bird." He hugged Raz tightly. When they parted, Raz hugged each of the other dragons in turn, and finally Takara. "Take care of yourselves until we are all restored for Teufel nearly succeeded in stopping the final sacrifice through an avatar—and only a weak one. We still do not know what h
appened to the Priest of Night and Day, and if he was corrupted he could be hiding somewhere."

  "We'll have a care," Kindan said. "You should be especially vigilant; we aren't Schatten's neighbor, after all."

  Raz nodded. "We will be careful. Farewell for now, brothers."

  "Farewell," Kyo replied, eyes flashing, thunder booming, and then Raz and Dym were once more alone in the cathedral.

  Raz strode down the stairs to join Dym, throwing his arms around his neck and pulling him down into a heady kiss. Dym whimpered and hesitantly looped his own arms around Raz's waist, still unable to believe that he had what he'd always wanted. Raz kissed him until Dym was dizzy with the need to breathe.

  When he finally drew back, Dym realized they were no longer in the cathedral, but the garden he had built behind it. Raz stood beneath the apple tree, staring up at it. "Not quite the same."

  "You can restore the original easily enough," Dym reminded him.

  "Another day, perhaps," Raz said and with a thought, banished all the snow, warmed the garden, and made it seem as though it were spring. The moon shone down, soft and bright, the stars sharper points of light all around it. Raz sat at the base of the tree, and then reached up and grasped Dym's wrist. With one, smooth yank he brought Dym down across his lap, laughing at the disgruntled expression on his face. When Dym was settled more comfortably, Raz said, "We have a lot of work ahead of us, sweet Dym, to set Pozhar to rights once more."

  Dym blinked up at him. "Yes, Eminence. What—"

  Raz cut him off with a finger over his lips. "But it can keep for a little while my priest takes a well-deserved break. Close your eyes, Dym, and rest." Before Dym could reply, Raz began to sing softly.

  The song was the very same one that Dym had heard so many years ago as a little boy lost in the woods after his family had been killed. It was the singing that had guided him out of the woods and, over a garden wall to watch and listen while a beautiful man sang beneath a tree of golden apples. Since that day, Dym had never left the side of his beautiful man, his Eminence.