Elm stood outside the border crossing room and stared at the door handle. Some part of him dreaded walking inside the room. He was tired, but even thought of complaining brought his mind back to the mangled body that North was currently working with. It was true that he’d be back in peak condition sooner than any human should be allowed.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped inside.

“It’s not every day you get the chance to talk with a dead man.”

The beaten soldier gave Elm a bloody grin, even as he was tied to a chair. There were bruises covering every bit of his skin, and some of his teeth looked as if they were missing. His light blonde hair had been darkened by blood and dirt.

“That doesn’t feel like a great way to greet a person when you’re the one tied to a chair. Why’d you even request me in the first place?” Elm pulled up another seat and sat across from him, placing his hands over the back of the chair.

“Thought I’d prefer to talk to an Arlinian. You might get me a bit better than the rest of them. And hell, I’m curious what you’re like.”

Elm scoffed, looking the man up and down. He looked a tad bit older than the average soldier. He might not have a leadership role, but he certainly would have had seniority.

“Why did you surrender? You ain’t got any fucking pride as a soldier?”

“You’re one to talk.” He snarkily replied.

“Heh. Fair enough.”

Elm took a moment to relax, loosening his shoulders. The soldier was not intent on doing anything that would get him killed. Other than insulting him, of course. Elm believed he could deal with insults as long as he got actual information.

“And yes, I do have pride. But I also have people waiting back home for me. As long as I can make my way back to them, my pride can go in the fucking chamber pot.”

Elm raised an eyebrow at his response.

“Who?”

“Girlfriend. Son. Should be turning three in the summer.”

Well ain’t that something.

“Did you have someone waiting for you back home when you were in the military?”

Elm paused for a moment at the words of the soldier, studying his face. There was no outward show of malice. Just genuine curiosity.

“Why the fuck would I answer that?”

To Elm’s surprise, the soldier began to laugh. It was an ugly and wet laugh, only made more poignant by the fact that his mouth was tinted with his blood.

“Because I know you. You won’t kill me. The rest of them might. But you’re an old soldier, from Arlin no less. I know that you need me, and I’m willing to work with you. But if you want me to, I get to ask some questions as well.” The man gave Elm another shit eating grin. “Tell you what. I ask a question, and then you ask one. That sound good?”

This little shit…

Elm took a deep breath, then locked eyes with the soldier. Although he hated to admit it, the man did remind him of his younger years. He wasn’t as dumb or belligerent, but the brutal honesty and awareness of power was a perfect mirror of his previous self.

“I didn’t have anyone.”

The soldier’s eyes widened with curiosity as he straightened his back in the chair.

“Huh. Guess that’s why it was so easy for you to desert.” he said casually.

Elm had to clench his first to the chair to stop himself from getting up and breaking the soldier’s jaw.

Is he trying to make me kill him?

“I’m joking. Ok, now you ask your question.”

Elm took another deep breath to calm his nerves. This soldier looked like a kid who had just gotten away with stealing candy.

“Fine. How is the war in Hornel going?”

The soldier looked suddenly contemplative as if he was trying to find the correct combination of words to make Elm even more pissed than he already was. He was doing a great job, but something about this felt off. Before he had entered the room, the other members of the caravan talked about how polite he had been.

"The war is progressing pretty well. Last time I heard, the war should be over before the snow begins to thaw. Ok, your turn. Are the stories about you in the fourth campaign true?”

Elm couldn’t help but chuckle. Of course a soldier like him would want to know that. “Yeah, they are. Siege of Lohim and everything. Might have been exaggerated over the decades, but I was able to pull that off. Is my name still shared around the military?”

“Sometimes. You have two types of stories about you. Some compliment your prowess in war and magecraft, and the others as a cautionary tale about how no one can truly escape the power of the empire. It’s rather easy to use the tales of a dead man, after all. Say, were the rations better or worse back in your day?”

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“Worse. We didn’t really get rations for the fourth campaign and had to live off the land. Back in Uril, everything was preserved. The meat was so tough that I saw more men lose teeth when eating than I did during actual battle.”

Elm noticed the soldier placing his own tongue around his mouth and becoming slightly self aware about the few teeth he was currently missing.

“How long have you been in service?”

The soldier stopped checking out his own mouth and began to slowly count under his breath before turning his attention back to Elm.

“Trained back home in Central, then came to Corith after the end of the ninth campaign. Kinda enjoyed it, all things considered. The locals might have some weird customs and say some bizarre shit about their forest, but they can be friendly sometimes. Then the war in Boralis started. I was part of the second group to enter after the campaign began, so I didn’t get to see as much as I would have liked. Then I learned I had a kid back home and decided I should take a less risky job, so I picked border security. Guess I was wrong about that, huh?”

Sometimes it works out like that.

“Why did you desert?”

The air became stagnant. Elm’s eyes narrowed in on the soldier.

“Excuse me?”

The soldier gave an uncomfortably apathetic shrug, seemingly not taking Elm’s harsh tone.

“It’s a simple question. I mean, you destroyed your life’s work and killed a lot of people. I want to know why.”

This little shit is serious?

“Because what we were doing was wrong. I couldn’t let what I had done continue knowing the way the Empire was using my creation.”

The soldier let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head.

“I really would have expected more for doing something like that. That’s a bit disappointing.”

He’d hit a breaking point. Elm’s grip on the chair grew so tight that he could hear the sound of splintering wood.

“You have no idea what I sacrificed.”

“Oh I do know what you sacrificed.” The man’s grin disappeared. “More than 60 innocent people, just living their lives and following orders. Some of those people were your friends, weren’t they? Tell me, what did they look like when you killed them? Were they scared? Did they look betrayed? Or did you do it from behind so you didn’t have to look at their faces?”

“I did it to stop Arlin!”

“Really? And how well did that work? I’m sorry to tell you this, but you failed. All of the people you killed in your search for redemption died for nothing.” They stared directly into Elm’s eyes.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Insulting me. Trying to get me pissed off. I don’t see any damn benefit in doing so other than making me want to add to your list of injuries. Are you just trying to get out your hatred for the slaves by insulting me?”

The soldier gave another shrug, which only angered Elm further.

“I don’t hate them.”

Excuse me?

“True, I don’t like them. If it wasn’t suicide, I’d go all out with a burner and kill every single one. You murdered my friends and fellow soldiers. But that’s just how war is. You kill the other side. They have a cause, and they are fighting us because we are going against that cause. I can’t hate them for that. But you? You were an Arlinian. You believed in our ideals and loved our nation. Everything could have been yours, but you threw it all away because you couldn’t face the repercussions of your actions. You’re just hiding behind people who are fighting for a real cause. Every single action you take is selfish, because you believe that you can only redeem yourself by pretending to be one of them. It’s pathetic.” He said, casually condemning Grayson. Elm could only listen to him in silence.

“You’re not a soldier. You’re not even a slave. You’re just a fucking coward. And when your merry band of slaves fall to the empire like every other rebellion has before, all of that blood will be on your hands. So yes, Grayson. I do know what you sacrifice. You sacrifice anyone and everyone just so long as you don’t have to feel like the piece of shit you really are.”

The two of them sat in silence. As much as Elm hated every single part of it, the man wasn’t wrong. His actions were selfish. He had no moral high ground. In fact, one could argue his condemnation of the old major didn’t go far enough. Elm stayed in the camps to repent while the empire tried to bait him to go back to work. It was just pathetic.

“You’re right. I am a coward.” Elm responded.

However, something had changed. He was still doing this to try and repent for his sins, but there was one person who supported him that didn’t care. Elm’s goal had changed from just trying to repent to actually helping another person. Not a collective, but a person. It didn’t matter what happened to him from now on. As long as North completed his goal of saving other camps, Elm couldn’t give a shit if he was forgiven.

“I’ve been trying to repent for sins I know can’t be forgiven. But I don’t care about that anymore. As long as the people I wronged are able to see a day without being shackled by my creation, I don’t give a shit about my life.”

The room stood silent again.

“Good for you.” sarcastically responded the soldier. “Your turn.”

“Are you willing to point out the locations of all of the mining camps in Corith?”

The man gave Elm a devilish grin.

“Sure. Just try to stop them from removing any more of my teeth. I’d prefer to have more of them than my kid when I get back home.”

***

There was an awkward tension in the room as the caravan’s leadership stood around a table, staring at a massive map. Ruby appeared to not care about this tension, as she was loudly mumbling sweet nothings under her breath and tracing random lines across the forests and roads. Whatever she was seeing on the map, nobody else was seeing.

At least the cartographer is enjoying herself.

“So… are we just going to trust this guy?” Elina pointed towards the unbound soldier who was taking time to stretch his limbs.

“We have Sera and Ruby to fact check him on his info, and I don't see any reason he would lie to us. Just make sure not to reveal any actual information, and everything should be good.” Elm motioned over to the man who looked completely apathetic to the apparent danger of his situation.

“I don’t have too much incentive to lie to you. I honestly couldn’t give a shit about where you guys are going, just so long as I walk away alive.”

“I still don’t trust it.” Elina said while biting her nails.

“Well, I’m the best you got. So fir-”

The man’s words got interrupted when the door to the room creaked open. Everyone turned to watch as North, walking with two crutches beneath each of his arms, entered the room. His face still looked somewhat malformed with his broken nose, and there was bruising all over his body. Around his neck, a makeshift necklace had been created to hold Galen’s key. Some parts of him were so covered in bandaging it was comedic. The only thing that stayed the same was his wind-whipped brown hair.

“Did I miss anything?”