Nerluce was drinking tea - still pitifully alive due to a combination of his own cowardice and Lady Okiachi's watchful eye - when Lord Father arrived.

Lady Okiachi stood and Nerluce struggled to do the same.

"No," Lord Father said. "No, don't rise."

"Lord Husband," Lady Okiachi said, walking up to Lord Father. "What are you doing here?"

"I have come to see my son," Lord Father said, his tone dangerous. "What are you doing here, Lady Wife?"

Lady Okiachi's eyes narrowed and her lips thinned as she turned her head. "This wife will leave her lord husband to speak to his son without her interruption."

Nerluce really, really wished she would not go.

Despite the fact that Nerluce could count the number of times he'd been alone with Lady Okiachi on one hand - and all of those occurrences had happened within the last week - Nerluce would prefer her to Lord Father in any given set of circumstances. Lady Okiachi was cold and stern and cruel but Nerluce did not fear her the way he feared Lord Father.

Yet, the woman left with a snap of her sleeves and Nerluce was alone with Lord Father. It wasn't common that Nerluce was alone with Lord Father. Perhaps it had never happened before. It seemed as though he was always trailed by servants and aristocracy and attendants and doctors. He'd left them all outside the door. He and Nerluce were well and truly alone and that did not seem like a good sign.

"I have brought you something," Lord Father said.

"Anything... anything Lord Father gives will be accepted with much gratitude," Nerluce choked out. What... what was Lord Father giving him? Why? Was this a test of some kind?

Lord Father removed something from his sleeve. Nerluce's eyes widened slightly as a fan was placed into his hands by Lord Father. Nerluce glanced at Lord Father, who nodded slowly. Nerluce opened the fan. It was made by an expert, almost as beautifully crafted as the fan he'd been given by the Wolf Woman. Except this fan was crafted by nobility for nobility and seemed perfectly in place at the Hebikoti Clan.

Its wood was dark and rich. Running his finger across it, Nerluce found it smooth and without and blemishes. Its silk was a bright red, the color of the Hebikoti Clan. The color of blood. Nerluce's stomach twisted. Painted on the fan, was a white snake, the symbol of the Clan. It's body contorted in beautiful shapes for Nerluce's pleasure.

"It is lovely," Nerluce said.

"It belonged to the old Lady Hebikoti, your lady grandmother," Lord Father said. "She had a collection of many fine things, but most of them were buried with her."

"Why was this fan not?" Nerluce asked.

Lord Father did not say anything and Nerluce wondered if he'd made a mistake. His breathing hitched for a moment in panic. Then, oblivious to the panic he'd caused his son, Lord Father finally bothered to nonchalantly answer, "Her son often admired her collection and she would gift some of her beautiful things to him. It did not seem... unfair to keep them after her death."

Lady Grandmother's son... Lord Father.

"Oh," Nerluce mumbled.

"Your sister tells me that you like them," Lord Father said. "Or at the very least, have one other. Perhaps you can collect them."

"Perhaps," Nerluce agreed. "I do like it."

"Good," Lord Father said. "Good work deserves good rewards. Along with the fan, I bought you several more toys to entertain yourself with and many people have sent gifts. Apples and wine and apple wine."

Nerluce's head shot up. "Why?"

For another long stretch of silence, Lord Father did not speak. He frowned at Nerluce. His frown only grew deeper the more Nerluce looked back. He knew that his question was rude and arrogant and whatever other nasty thing that Lady Okiachi could come up with, but it was a question that he could not help and was not ashamed of. He did not understand why he was being rewarded when he ought to be killed.

Lord Father exhaled through his nose. "Nerluce, my son, you saved Itoroh. Your work was good and I am not the only one who recognizes it."

"My work... my Magick?"

"As... unusual as it is, it is not the first time in history a Hebikoti has been born without an Affinity for fire," Lord Father said. "And with your... untraditional upbringing it was inevitable." He patted Nerluce on the head like he was a boy and not a man, half a year shy of nineteen. But it was something he'd craved so desperately for so long... love and pride and acceptance from his lord father... he couldn't help himself.

"I thought you would be upset," Nerluce said, his words coming out so quickly they jumbled together. "I thought you would want me to kill myself to atone. I thought-"

"Ethera has filled your head with nonsense," Lord Father said. "Itoroh does not care about what kind of Magick you wield... so long as you use it for good." He smiled so fondly he looked like a stranger to Nerluce. "You have done well. I am proud. Even the Empress herself has sent wishes that you recover soon."

"The... the Empress?" Nerluce squeaked.

Lord Father patted his head again before standing up. He looked just as he had when Nerluce was a kid. Larger than life, proud and strong. "Rest for now. Itoroh waits to celebrate your name when you recover."

...

Itoroh did celebrate. For weeks and then months.

Nerluce had half the mind to think that the celebrations would never end. Coam told him that they went on like this after she returned home from war as well.

But in the dead of winter, when the snow was up to Nerluce's knees, he took Eden from the stables, not asking Coam for permission - she likely even wouldn't notice her prized stallion was gone. She hadn't noticed that Nerluce had taken over his care, simply to waste some time in a way that wasn't drinking or eating or sleeping - which seemed to be all anyone wanted to do through the entirety of winter.

Eden was a strong and fast horse and Nerluce was a Magickian, equally strong and capable. Together they made good time. The fact that Nerluce had not informed any of the aristocracies in the area of his trip made sure they made even better time. It took one and a half days of riding to reach it. And when he got there, he did not recognize the place. He thought he'd gotten lost, but when he asked for directions he was informed he really was in the right place.

They called it the Corpse Forest.

Dismounting Eden, Nerluce opted to walk through the forest instead of ride. Eden followed obediently wherever Nerluce led. The Corpse Forest was quiet during the day but at night, Nerluce heard rumors that the battle could still be heard, raging on. That was one reason why the forest had gotten its name.

The other reason was that all of the trees had grown with human corpses under their skin. The trees had grown so quickly around the people that they had become a part of the tree. Nerluce passed, looking at the expressions of pain and horror on the bodies beneath the bark. Nerluce ran his fingers over one of them and from above, Nerluce heard branches rustling. He looked up and saw the tree had somehow gotten taller.

Nerluce removed his hand from the tree. His Magick was spilling out of him so easily now. Everything he'd struggled with before came naturally. But... not with fire. These plants in particular were keen on listening to him as he was the one who had created them. He was their father and the one who had raised them. They loved him and a part of Nerluce supposed that he loved them too.

He didn't like the name Corpse Forest, fitting though it was. Nerluce wished that it could have just remained an unnamed forest. Nerluce wished that his actions were not so well known. He wished a thousand times over that the story of the youngest Hebikoti and the Corpse Forest was not being shared at taverns all across Itoroh, perhaps even the world. It wasn't like he'd come up with the name or told the trees to take on these horrifying shapes.

Eden snorted and pawed at the ground. Nerluce turned and stroked the stallion's neck. "I know you probably don't like being here," he said. "It reminds me of the battle too."

A battlefield forever frozen into the bark of trees. Swords and pikes and shields and bows jutted out of both trees and ground like branches and roots. Spirits drifted about, resting on these weapons of death. Spirits hated battlefields. They hated death and destruction. Nerluce had heard stories about how certain battlefields - the worst ones - remained empty of spirits for centuries. That did not seem the case with this battlefield.

The spirits had flocked to it. Tree spirits and grass spirits and leaf spirits and root spirits. They peaked at Nerluce. They called out to him in odd warbling voices. Spirits hated death, but they loved Magick. They were Magick. Perhaps the reason they'd come to the place was because it, like them, was born of Magick.

A small smile appeared on Nerluce's lips. He didn't think he'd come back here. Not if he could help it. But it wasn't because he was ashamed of his creation. Not in the slightest. There was no reason to be ashamed. Nerluce had stopped the battle. He had saved his sister's life. He had saved all of the Itorohian soldiers' lives. He had probably saved the lives of countless villagers who would have been lost to the fires of vengeance. And now this place would serve as a home for spirits and animals and memories.

Nerluce took a final look at one of the Tilican soldiers. Cradeled by bark for the rest of eternity... that didn't sound like such a bad way to die. "I wish you had just gone home," Nerluce said. "I wish I didn't have to kill you." But he did. Because these people would not have gone back to Tilica. There was no other way to stop them but by killing them. So Nerluce could not regret his actions. Or his Magick.

His Magick had saved people. His life Magick had saved so many people. It had created this place where a battlefield once stood. Nerluce had created life in a place that otherwise would have only known death. This forest was massive and horrible and beautiful and utterly and undeniably alive.

And knowing that... how this power could be anything but good?