Chapter 6

Kelrian was weary.

Bone weary.

He wished to forget everything and be happy like when he had been when he was young and ignorant.

Kelrian softly let out an exasperated sigh as he pretended to be tuned into the clandestine meeting that was taking place in the back of a rebel sympathizer’s smithy. It was a quiet sigh though, nobody could know what he was planning. If they knew what he was going to do, they’d kill him as surely as they were going to be killed themselves.

He felt sorry for the blacksmith. He would most likely die just for the crime of hosting them.

But it was what it was.

The world was cold and cruel, but Kelrian had wearied of caring long ago. He couldn’t find it in himself to feel any sympathy for the man. He couldn’t find it in himself to find sympathy for anyone anymore.

“Everything’s in place, it’s finally happening,” came an excited voice.

“Don’t be so hasty, you never know what may go wrong,” another voice responded, chiding the first.

Harsh whispers broke out. Excitement tingled in the air like a current.

Kelrian hated it. He hated their excitement. He hated their fight.

They would all be dead soon. This wasn’t a time to celebrate.

This was a time to mourn.

He smiled and played along. Played along and pretended to have a hope that had left him long ago.

Long long ago.

As the chattering continued Kelrian smiled and occasionally chimed in. He went through the motions. He had to do so.

He was an executioner, having a last meal with the condemned who thought that they were going to be set free.

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Was he a monster?

Probably.

But Kelrian was too weary to care.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t heard everything before, he had actually helped to come up with the bulk of the assassination plot side by side with Dren, their leader.

He knew the rebellion better than anyone left alive aside from Dren.

He knew everything.

He had cared so much.

He had lost that.

The years and comrades ripped from him had taken their toll on Kelrian. He was no longer the young bright eyed rebel who was going to wake a nation from amnesia. He had long outgrown that.

He had seen too many families torn apart. Too many friends killed. Too many children given to a fate worse than death, taken to be groomed become Inquisitors.

One could not face all that darkness and suffering and retain hope.

Kelrian didn’t wanna fight anymore. What was the point of it? Everyone was happy. They loved their emperor. He was practically a deity to the masses. Who was he to tell them not to worship their god?

The masses believed the emperor to be some their savior. Who was he to tell them otherwise? The emperor had ‘saved’ them from the catastrophe that had scorched the coastline and left the port cities and the old capital a hollowed skeleton.

Or so they thought. That was good enough.

Why tell them the truth? What would they do? Kelrian had seen the truth tear families apart. His best friends had died in pursuit of that truth.

The truth could be damned for all he cared.

What was worse? Living in freedom, learning that everything you thought you knew since you were a child was a lie and your messiah was a tyrannical despot, or living ignorant and happy under a system that provided stability and safety?

Who was Kelrian to say that security and ignorance weren’t better than freedom?

At least the people would be happy before they were lead to slaughter. That was more than most could ever hope for.

Why not just give in to the ignorance?

Why did they have to fight?

*****

Kelrian’s mind wondered as the final preparations were discussed.

“It’s sad watching this farce. They’ll be dead soon anyway, and I’ll be wealthy and ignorant. I’ll finally be free of the nightmares. I’m doing the right thing. The people will never be able to handle the truth. They aren’t ready for it. I’m doing them a service by stopping the rebellion,” but even as he thought it, Kelrian knew it was hollow. He knew he was searching for anything to justify his betrayal.

He was a coward.

“No. It has to be true. I can’t be throwing away their lives for nothing. We have peace. I can’t destroy the lie just for the sake of the truth. The truth will cause chaos.”

Kelrian desperately tried to rationalize what he’d done.

He thought he’d stopped caring.

“If everyone believes a lie doesn’t that make it the truth?” he thought. “They’ve chosen the truth that they want. I’d be a monster to deny them that. To show them the horror that they’re about to face…I’d be a monster.”

That last thought plagued Kelrian. Monster. He was a monster. Maybe if he accepted it, he’d kill the voice that was screaming for him to put a stop to their plans. The voice that begged Kelrian to tell his comrades he was leading them to the slaughtering block. That he was sacrificing them for wealth and forgetfulness.