“I’m sorry for your loss,” Khollo murmured. “Your brother died a valiant death.”
“And I ran,” Janis growled angrily, strangling his sword hilt. “I ran, when my brother needed me most. I didn’t even try to save him.”
“You couldn’t have saved him,” Khollo pointed out gently. “You would just be dead as well.” Isn’t that the kind of rationalizing you’re supposed to do to help the survivor move on?
“I’m aware, Khollo,” Janis replied heavily. “But it never should have come to that. We should have retreated, but I was arrogant. I thought we could hold out. I wanted to be the hero.”
Oh, Khollo thought. There wasn’t much he could say to that.
“My arrogance killed my twin brother,” Janis snarled. “And I didn’t learn. The next opportunity I had I turned around and tried again. The odds were even worse, but somehow it worked out. And I got to be the hero, but Ezraan was gone. No amount of heroics would bring him back, no number of slain vertaga.”
Janis paused. “And then . . . I found him again.”
Khollo frowned warily. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“After the war, I was looking for my future in the bottom of a tankard,” Janis admitted. “Eventually I would have drunk myself to death. I was beyond caring about such things at that point though. King Orram knew what was happening. Rather than see a national hero drink himself into oblivion, he ordered me to go to the Academy and teach, hoping to pull me out of it.” Janis snorted. “Well, I went to Ardia, but got stuck there, unwilling to go forwards or go backwards. The king gave up ordering me to the Academy, told me that if I ever made it I could teach but he wouldn’t try and force me to anymore. I think he was disgusted with me at that point to be honest.
“Then I encountered a young street urchin, wily, intelligent, fearless,” Janis said with a smile. “A little clumsy, but that was not important. When I looked into his face, I saw my brother Ezraan again.”
He means me, Khollo realized belatedly. Before Khollo could ask any questions though, Janis continued.
“I did some research. I knew my brother had married, and that he had a son, but I did not keep up with what was left of his family after the war.” Janis rubbed the back of his neck as though it pained him. “I never thought to try and help fill the void left by Ezraan. Anyway, after I met you I started digging through birth and death records in Ardia. I found that Ezraan’s wife had died in an accident at the docks, where she was working. That was only two days after Ganned’s Gorge. There was no mention of what happened to her son. But I dug further back and found his name.”
“And?” Khollo asked, knowing what the answer Janis gave would be.
“It’s you, Khollo,” he said. “You are my brother’s son, and all that is left of his legacy.”
Khollo’s mouth opened and closed but no sound came out. Janis is my uncle? After all this time?
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Khollo finally blurted, feeling quite betrayed.
Janis winced and averted his eyes. “As a matter of fact, Ondus here has been asking that question for a while too,” he muttered. “I never told you, because I thought you would blame me for all of it.”
“Blame you – ?”
“I am the reason your parents are dead!” Janis shouted. “Well, your father at least. And if he had lived your mother would never have been working at the docks. She would have been home taking care of you.”
“But still – l”
“Khollo,” Janis said. “Think for a moment. You were only seven or so when I found you. You’d been on the streets for several months, fending for yourself, being beaten on a regular basis, going hungry constantly. You don’t think that you would have resented an uncle taking so long to show up in your life?”
“Maybe,” Khollo admitted finally. “But later – ”
“I was worried that revealing this would cause you to feel betrayed,” Janis explained. “Especially early on. As time went on, I felt like the blowback would be worse and worse. I could never get the courage to explain everything somehow.” He looked at Khollo, tears in his eyes. “And I had already lost my whole family, my mother and my brother. I did not want to drive away my nephew too. So I waited, keeping my secrets.” He took a deep breath. “But with the new war, the possibility that one or both of us could be dead within the year . . . I wanted the secrets to be over.”
Khollo looked down at the floor. He tried to imagine what Janis had been going through these last several years, and quickly gave up. The darkness, the void, was too great, too terrible. But Khollo had suffered in that time too, growing up alone with no friends, no one to confide in.
“I understand your pain,” Khollo said finally. “And you have no reason to blame yourself for your brother’s death. But, you can blame yourself for the pain you caused me. The months I spent on the streets of Ardia, the years I have spent alone.” Khollo stood, his voice rising. “All this time, I have had family within reach and did not know it. All this time, when I was beaten and harassed and made fun of with no one to turn to, no one to call a friend or even a protector.” Khollo paused, turning away. “You can blame yourself for that, if you must blame yourself for something,” he whispered.
Janis looked at Khollo, stricken. “Khollo, I never . . . I didn’t . . . you never told me – ”
Khollo
