The Genesis of the Dead

Despite bumping into him, the little girl said nothing and ran off, away from her home.

"Asha! Get back here!" Zoran heard an angry voice from within the house and immediately recognized it.

"Salvia, it's Zoran. Asha just ran off," he called while entering the home filled with the aromatic smell of plant life.

"Zoran? Oh, I have a few words for you!" Salvia's voice, full of anger, called from the adjacent room.

Zoran followed the voice to see a beautiful middle-aged woman using a pestle and mortar to grind some unfamiliar plant. She shared Asha's golden blonde hair but had emerald green eyes, currently glaring daggers at him.

"Well? Explain yourself!" she huffed as she worked, barely sparing him a glance.

"Asha asked you about the training?" Zoran asked, trying to piece together the conflict.

"Filling her head with nonsense, where do you get off? She's only a child and thinks she can slay dragons!" Salvia complained as she worked. "Don't forget, I have to make a run to the city soon. Maybe I'll just have her fight some beasts along the way. It'll be good experience," she continued sarcastically.

"With her personality, she'd do that anyway. I agree the girl is reckless—" Zoran began but was cut off.

"Reckless? She's beyond reckless! I don't even have words! She doesn't know what's out there!" Salvia ranted, pounding the mortar harder.

"And how will she learn if you don't teach her? This is the path she wants to follow. Standing in her way will just push her toward worse alternatives."

"Here's an alternative, don't train her. The only reason she's so determined to get strong is because she saw you fight those blue bears a few months ago. That's when all this started! 'I'll be the strongest!' 'I'll save people!' All that noise is your fault," Salvia retorted, mimicking her daughter's voice.

"I know you want her to be safe, but you know better than most that the world is dangerous. If she wants to grow stronger, assisting her is, in a way, is the same as keeping her safe."

"Helping her is giving her the means to get herself hurt. And yes, I know the world is dangerous—I've seen it more than once. Do you think I want to watch my daughter get hurt? Do you think I want to patch up her wounds and battle scars? Do you think I want to bury her in a shallow grave like her father?!" Salvia's voice broke, and she dropped the pestle.

Zoran stepped closer and picked up the dropped tool, looking into her emerald eyes.

"I'm sorry. If you really don't want this, I won't teach her. All I'm asking is that you think about it, what she wants, how she wants to live in this world. Put aside your fears and truly think about what's best for her."

Salvia no longer had the strength to argue and slumped into a chair.

"...I'll think about it," she finally said after a long pause.

Zoran nodded slightly, realizing he had inadvertently broken one of his own conditions. Maybe he was softer than he thought.

"So, aside from my daughter's escapades, did you need something?" Salvia asked, massaging her temples.

Zoran remembered why he had come and spoke bluntly, his expression gloomy. "Freir came back. Genahven is gone."

"What?!" Salvia stood abruptly, moving with purpose. "How many survivors? Where are the wounded? We need to move now before it gets dark, help me get—" She paused when she saw Zoran's apologetic expression.

"Oh... May they find peace in the next world," she whispered, almost inaudibly.

A moment passed in silence, with only the smell of plants and the sounds of village life outside entering the somber room.

"Do you remember a couple of years ago when we went to Genahven?" Salvia suddenly asked.

"Yes. A woman was about to give birth but started bleeding."

"The look on the husband's face... We got there faster than ever before. I remember holding the woman's hand, saying everything would be fine. There was too much blood, I couldn't save them both."

"You did all you could."

"I let that baby die, Zoran... I should have done more."

"Blaming yourself won't bring that child back."

"They're both gone now. The bleeding mother, the scared father. Hmph." Salvia sighed, refusing to let a single tear fall.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Freir thinks it was bandits."

"Bandits? Human cruelty never ceases to astound me. Are you sure there are no survivors? Maybe we should go look, there might be someone badly hurt."

"According to Freir, not even a rat survived. I'm sorry, Salvia, but I need your help here."

"In case those men come here?"

Zoran nodded, looking deeply at the woman in front of him. He owed her more than he could express; she had saved his life. It pained him to see her bearing guilt for people she barely knew. But that's who she is, caring for and healing everyone, even those who don't deserve it.

"What do you need?" she asked, resolute and ready.

"We'll need berserker's brew."

"You're mad. You know how dangerous that is. And we'd have to go to the city for ingredients."

"Didn't you need to go anyway?"

"That's not the point. Listen, I know you think the whole village rests on your shoulders, but don't be so arrogant. This place was here before you, and it'll be here after."

"It's not the place I care about, it's the people. Please get me that potion."

Salvia wanted to argue further but recognized the look in his eyes.

"I'll leave at dawn. Tell Freir he's coming with me."

"I should g—" Zoran began but was immediately cut off.

"And if this place comes under attack in the meantime? Stay. I've made the trip alone before. Freir is just for company."

Zoran grudgingly agreed, deciding not to bother the village healer any further. As he turned to leave, Salvia called out, "If you see my daughter, tell her we need to talk."

Zoran grunted in acknowledgment before stepping out.