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Heaven and Hellfire 03: The Spirit of Wrath
Chapter Eight: A Matter of Pride

Chapter Eight: A Matter of Pride

Sushaki provided him with a scarf to hide his face, thankfully. He also helped him bandage his face so that the bleeding was staunched. The traitor had not been allowed to touch him since the last time. Sahshir allowed him to do so only reluctantly, remembering well what he did. Siding with Asim against Sahshir after so many pledges of eternal friendship.

Traitor.

Never again would Sahshir trust this fair-faced scoundrel. Nor would he drink tea before a sunset alongside him. Whatever looks of regret Sushaki gave him only fired his anger now. For he knew his nature and his uses.

So long as the latter did not outweigh the former, he would not slay him. But for now, he had his uses. And when Schzara entered, his face was hidden once again. The girl ran to him and hugged him, as Sahshir kept an eye on the guards around him. One of them might make a move.

"Sahshir, you're here," said Schzara.

Sahshir set a hand on her shoulder. He wondered what she would think if she saw what lay beneath his gloves and mask. Still, it was not contagious. Perhaps she would not judge him for it. "I am. Follow me. We are leaving the palace at once."

He offered her a hand, and she took it. Together, they made their way out. As they did, Schzara noticed the dozens of unconscious guards. "What happened to all these guards?"

"They fell," said Sahshir. "And when they rise, they will not oppose us."

No attempt was made to bar his path. He walked out the front gates of the palace, and guards cringed backward. News had come of what he had been doing. They feared and respected him. But they did not yet love him.

As the last gates were pulled aside, Sahshir saw Tuor waiting. The Disciple of Baltoth had a pair of nunchucks by his side, and his hands were tied with bandages. He shifted his massive shoulders and stretched his neck.

"...Master Tuor?" asked Sahshir.

Tuor nodded at him with little change in expression. Yet Sahshir could tell he was pleased by his eyes. "That was very well done, Sahshir. You've made your point and left no corpses to start a blood feud. I doubt your troubles are over, but this is an excellent start.

"Come, Kushina has made tea."

How often Sahshir had dreamed of such a moment once when Aresh yet lived. It felt odd now, out of place.

Sahshir and Tuor led Schzara to the shrine. There, Kushina was waiting, and they sat together in a circle. Tuor sipped his tea, apparently finding it more interesting than the palace. "So, what made you declare yourself openly before your uncle? Might you have ambushed him in his chambers? Or freed Schzara by stealth. Perhaps both."

"I wanted to prove I was better than all of them," said Sahshir. He saw no reason to hide the truth nor shy from what he meant. "Fighting my way into the heart of their power without needing to slay anyone seemed ideal."

"Your desire for power is commendable," said Tuor with a nod. "But there are many kinds of power. Being known and acknowledged as a mighty warrior is one of them."

"And what other kinds are there?" asked Sahshir. This was the sort of thing Tuor liked to talk about. Power was his favorite subject.

Often times, he would speak of forms of power and how to attain them. What kinds of power were most reliable? What force lasted the longest? And was it better to hold the reigns of power or stand behind the one who did?

Tuor could talk about power all week. Aresh never had, and Sahshir disliked the change. Nevertheless, the service to Baltoth must be undertaken without regard to self. So it was written.

One must be willing to devote oneself utterly to the cause without regard to benefit. Sahshir had not yet succeeded at this, nor was he sure he ever would. Yet he knew that was what one would aspire to.

Tuor would regard that as a kind of power, too.

"One is to be known as an honorable and reliable subordinate who cannot be bribed," said Tuor. "Wicked men will fear you. And those who see what they believe is justice will admire and flock to your banner."

"What do you mean 'what they believe is justice.'" asked Sahshir, not understanding. "There is good and evil. Both are real as day and night."

"What is good for one man may be evil for another," noted Kushina, sipping her tea.

Sahshir thought of a quote. "It is written, 'He who lives by thievery alone shall starve friendless in the wilderness.'"

"Wise words, of course," said Tuor, too quickly for Sahshir's liking. It was like he was trying to pass the subject off. "Though more of pragmatism than moral in nature. But consider this: a nobleman's son grows up spoiled with everything he could ever want.

"One day, he is kidnapped by a demon, thrust forcibly from his home, and put into slavery. He escapes and is forced to survive by begging on the streets. He nearly starves but eventually returns home.

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"When he comes back, he is far wiser. He understands reality better. So when he inherits his father's lands, he rules justly. He also enjoys what he has more and is less prone to decadence. So the land prospers, and he is far wiser for it.

"Was it evil for the demon to have acted so?"

"I cannot judge this demon without understanding their motives," said Sahshir. "Nor do I know the boy or how he might have changed without it?

"So, I cannot answer the question." Sahshir reminded himself that Tuor's theories of power were not without weight. It was not for nothing that he was the Disciple of Baltoth. His wisdom was as great as his strength at arms.

Tuor nodded. "A wise answer. It is never a fault to admit that you do not know, at least to yourself.

"How would you react if I told you that the nobleman's son was Asim?"

"Asim?" asked Sahshir in surprise.

"He is held in higher regard in the northern highlands that he holds sway over," said Kushina. "Civilization has not touched that land as strongly."

"Pride is a valuable thing," said Tuor. "But it clouds the mind when not tempered by humility."

"It is said by some that pride and humility are opposites," said Sahshir.

"There are good and ill aspects of every part of the mortal spirit," said Tuor. "Humility may allow one to understand themselves better. But if taken too far, it becomes self-hatred. Then, the one beset by it will think too little of himself. And great things he could one day achieve may never come about.

"Pride is the same. Baltoth was born of pride. To know the value of one's achievements and take pride in them is not wicked. Pride in one's nation can inspire one to do great deeds of valor."

"Sister," said Schzara, "can I um... go practice archery? This is boring."

"Do as you like, Schzara," said Kushina.

Schzara rose and departed, taking up her bow and rushing down the steps with obvious joy. Kushina stood up and smiled faintly as she finished her tea. "I'll go give her some pointers."

"That would be wise," said Tuor, nodding respectfully while crossing his arms. "If the girl were kidnapped twice, I would become cross with her."

When they had left, Tuor looked to Sahshir with a faint smile. He seemed amused by something, and Sahshir did not know what. Schzara was not it; he was sure. "Let me tell you another tale, Sahshir.

"Once, a long time ago, I was walking through a forest in a distant land. There, I beheld a man fighting a monster with his bare hands. He was losing badly but refused to give up.

"Moved by pity, I sought to aid him.

"But another man stopped me. He told me that the monster had devoured the man's wife. His pride would not allow him to accept help in defeating such an opponent.

"What would you have done had it been you?"

"I should have helped the man anyway," said Sahshir.

"Why?" asked Tuor.

"Someone who has just lost a loved one is not reasoning," said Sahshir. "And so long as one lives, one may regain honor. So if it were a slight on his honor that I saved him, he could redeem himself in time.

"It is written: 'So long as you live, you may make amends. So long as you breathe, you may improve. So long as your heart beats, you may achieve greatness.'"

"Interesting. That is not what I did," said Tuor.

"What did you do?" asked Sahshir.

"I killed both men and let the monster eat their corpses," said Tuor. "Then, I had a very stimulating conversation with it on the nature of morality. His name was Grakus, and he was quite an amiable companion.

"Eventually, we parted ways, and he made his way to Dinis.

"I never saw him again."

Sahshir was surprised by the answer and the ending. For a moment, he pondered it, trying to understand why he did it. The act seemed so contrary to anything he would expect. To choose the side of a monster over two men?

Why?

"Why would you take his side?" asked Sahshir at last.

"The giant, it was a giant, eat the man's wife for a meal," said Tuor with a sigh. "It thought nothing of it and continued on its way. One might as well have been angry at a farmer for slaughtering a hen.

"The man, in contrast, had far less nobility in his motives. He merely wanted revenge. As if killing the thing that slew his loved one would bring her back. And it is doubtful he would have felt any better at the end.

"Then, when his weapon was destroyed, he was arrogant enough to refuse any aid. He would not even retreat and try again in more favorable circumstances. I concluded that the giant was the more intelligent of the two and deserving of victory.

"Anyone foolish enough to disregard life for pride deserves neither. And any society that believes such idiocy admirable should be scourged from Erian. As the Naminaens were, in time, though not by my hand. Their fall predates my rise by some decades, though it is often forgotten in the passage of years."

"Is there a lesson behind this?" asked Sahshir.

"You heard only the man's story. Thus, you assumed he was the hero and the giant a villain," said Tuor. "But the giant was merely trying to live life as much as any human farmer. And he made for far better conversation.

"Power, real power, comes from understanding the perspectives of all sides. Every man has hopes, dreams, and goals. When you know what those are and what they will do to get them, you can bend them to your will.

"Which, incidentally, is why I ordered you not to kill anyone."

"You knew I would attack Asim?" asked Sahshir.

"I knew you would seek to prove yourself. And I knew that word of a possible threat had already spread in your village. I was surprised to find out what you would do to prove yourself.

"I merely made a few guesses."

Sahshir considered the story. "...I was wrong, Tuor. The giant was not the villain. You were."

"Was I?" asked Tuor. "I prefer to think of myself as an impartial judge of their characters."

And then the door slid open. Nayasha rushed into the room and fell into a kneeling position. "A thousand pardons, Master Tuor. But we have seen the Airships of Zigilus. They are landing on the border as we speak!"

Tuor smiled. "Now, aren't you glad you didn't slaughter your way through your uncle's men?"

"Very," said Sahshir.

There was a method to how Tuor operated. Sahshir had indeed misjudged him.