It had been a year since his arrival upon the island, since his casting out by his father and the Akalak society of Riverfall. It had been a year of guilt and regret as Alzaren mourned his mother’s death. It was his fault. His father would have never put another child into the womb of his mother if it were not for his failure to become a warrior of the Akalak people. If he had succeeded, his mother would not have had to die giving birth to her second son.
His golden amber eyes flared with life at the remembrance of his worst sin in this world. He had failed his family and, in turn, forced his mother to lose her life. Lathered in sweat, Alzaren climbed the Peak of Black Rock with nothing more than mountaineering tools. He had prayed to Ivak before the hands of sleep conquered him every night since he had left Riverfall, both on the ship and when he arrived on the island itself. When he was stricken with grief, he would play his lute and fall into the loving arms of Rhaus’ principles, but he did this solely for his mother and her devout following of Ivak. He had loved her more than anyone else in this world, and he planned to honor her name.
With a passion so akin to the emotional standing of Ivak, Alzaren struggled to climb the volcanic summit, his fingers bleeding and his entire flesh caked in grime and soot. His black hair was matted to his skin, his eyes burned with perspiration, and his lips quivered and trembled as they desired water. As Alzaren placed his foot on another rock-hold and looked up, he saw the lip of the peak. He saw his redemption for everything he had done wrong in Riverfall.
Clutching his mother’s Aventhian amulet in his left hand, the red-skinned Akalak that was Alzaren gritted his teeth and groaned loudly, providing his body with enough strength to reach the top. When his right hand grasped the lip of the summit, tears appeared in his golden orbs, washing away the dirt and sweat as he pulled the rest of his beyond weary configuration onto the rocky peak.
He laid there for a while, looking up at the dark clouds that hovered over Dira’s domain. Alzaren knew this land no longer belonged to Ivak, but this volcano, in some form, had to be connected to the god of fire and emotion. If it wasn’t, everything he had worked for would be worthless. He would be a shell of what he strived to be. He wanted this; he needed this.
Standing afoot as apathetic as possible, the winds of the great summit of Black Rock coursed through Alzaren’s long black hair, forcing it from its sweat-matted position along his skin. The Akalak meandered forward, placing his forearm in front of his eyes to block away the rushing winds of ash. He came before the rim of the volcano, and he looked down.
Deep down in the abyss of the mountain, just as any dormant volcano, blackness conquered. There was nothing significant about this place. Perplexity was apparently stamped across the Akalak's countenance. He had imagined a weight to be lifted from his chest, or for some sign of Ivak to appear to show him that what he had performed wasn’t all for nothing. But just as his fears had come, they were gone, for as a few chimes passed, a great steam rose from the darkness below, its heat causing Alzaren to sweat profusely.
The steam exploded into fire, causing Alzaren to take a step back and shield his eyes. The light nearly blinded him, and the Djed that surged through the area tingled every part of Alzaren’s articulation. A few ticks passed, and Alzaren finally drew the nerve to lower his arm.
At that moment, he saw him. He saw the World Destroyer, the Balancer, the God of Fire, the Ruler of Emotions. He saw Ivak.
A voice within Alzaren spoke profoundly, but Ivak’s lips did not move. “I have heard your prayers for a long while now, Akalak,” the god spoke, his voice echoing in Alzaren’s mind for what seemed like an eternity. The red-skinned Akalak could only look on in utter awe at the spectacle, and he needed not to talk. His actions had brought him this far. “You have come to a land foreign to you, and have come to a land that is no longer even under my domain, yet you continued on. You and your soul sibling continued for your faith in me, and you continued for your mother, and the many prayers she sent my way. You have acquired my attention, Akalak.”
With that, the fire blasted into an inferno once more, eventually dying into smoke. At the moment of Ivak’s disappearance, a pain struck the bottom of Alzaren’s left forearm, causing him to fall to his knees and clutch the agonized area. He winced and groaned as his eyes fell upon the arm. A multitude of flaming tendrils coursed down the forearm, their hue being that of a bright gold-orange, much like Alzaren's eyes.
As the mark settled and Alzaren’s eyes lifted to look where the god had revealed himself, he saw only the lifting black smoke that soon vanished amidst the winds and dark clouds above. Tears surfaced in his eyes once more as he began to sob, thinking of his mother and hoping that, with Ivak’s blessing, she had forgiven him.
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