The chambers of the lower ziggurat proved to be far more labyrinthine than expected. Halls met halls in haphazard ways. Paths zig-zagged and made sharp turns into unseen passageways. Occupied cells that never saw natural light appeared at similarly random intervals. The denizens within turned their dirtied faces to hide from the unexpected light. Bloodstains splattered the floor, bringing Valentin’s mind back to the gleeful druid.
After fully obliterating Valentin’s sense of direction, they finally reached a small chamber in some unknown part of the underground floor. A stone staircase tightly wound up into the upper floors. The tight conditions allowed for the smoke from the torch to suffocate the space with smoke. The hot air warmed Valentin’s lungs.
They stepped out one floor up and Elder Carlan doused his torch. The light was unnecessary on this floor, the halls were adorned with carved gems that glowed with a soft light. Valentin inspected the strange lights closely.
“This temple was once a Novesse place of worship to Ortus’ child, Atenahara,” Elder Carlan explained. “Their primal energy still permeates through these ancient remnants. We saw no use in destroying the shrine of a spirit we respect.”
“I shudder to think what happens to one that offends Ortus,” Valentin remarked, pulling himself away from the lights.
If the underground floor was a maze, the ground floor was a grid. Countless hallways and passages perfectly intersected. The perfect distances between intersections combined with the unnatural lights offered the disorienting illusion that they had made no progress at all. Even when they turned, the sensation did not cease. If he were to be out here for too long, Valentin knew that he would eventually develop a migraine.
As Valentin approached his natural limit, Carlan stopped in front of a doorway. The only feature that separated it from any other doorway along any other hallway was the meticulously carved number eleven that sat above it.
Carlan led the way into the room. Like the hallway, the room was illuminated through the same stones. Under the pale glow of the stones, many infirm people lied in rows upon straw mattresses. Their faces were slick with sweat and they weakly rolled about. They did not react to the entrance of the new arrivals; they simply panted and focused on maintaining their meager life-force.
A druid was already at work attending to the numerous patients. Overworked and overwhelmed, she also did not initially recognize Carlan and his guests. Groaning from one of the patients snapped her head upwards to see the trio that seemingly apparated in the room.
She bowed silently and instinctively to Elder Carlan before observing the newcomers. Her eyes drifted towards the grinning face on Valentin’s waist. He felt the mask vibrate towards her. She blinked blankly and did not seem to understand the mask’s words.
Her eyes widened when her gaze settled upon Zalavo. Her appearance drained of color, as though she were observing a named spirit. Recognition was quickly followed by surprise followed by hate. Her pupils vibrated with directionless anger. He watched her try to bottle the emotions that welled within her, trying desperately not to cause a scene in front of her superior. She would fail in her admirable endeavor.
“Zalavo!” Her shrill voice filled with indignation and surprise called out from across the room. “I knew that you threw away the morals that the Mother gave us, but you abandoned your wits as well? Why are you here?”
“Breathe, Decla,” Elder Carlan ordered. “I requested Zalavo’s help in this matter.”
“Elder, why would you do such a thing?” Decla pressed her superior. “What could possibly convince you to allow such an impure creature back within our walls? This is malfeasance and a disservice towards all those that suffer and continue to suffer as a result of his wickedness. We should be executing him on the morrow to accomplish was High Tiarna Echavin refused to do.”
“I thought I told you to breathe,” Carlan said forcibly.
“Is this the will of the Tionól?” Decla asked, more calmly.
“It was far from unanimous,” Carlan answered. “Even though I voted in favor, I still loathe the choice. However, between allowing a villain back within our fold and continuing to ineffectively save our followers, which do you believe to be the greater crime?”
Decla’s eyes narrowed as she weighed the uncomfortable options. Her thoughts were almost so loud that the other three could easily hear them. She tried to scramble a counterargument quickly.
Valentin glanced Zalavo’s way. He seemed to be entirely unperturbed by the argument occurring in front of him. It was not as though Valentin didn’t understand Decla’s thoughts. Zalavo tortured innocent people for an answer that was unable to be solved. There was someone that he did not wish to have help him, making things all the more complicated when they did anyways.
“We must admit our shame, Decla,” Carlan asserted to his junior. “The Holy Man of Allbost was not named for dishonest reasons. I have seen his abilities firsthand, as have you. Explain to him what is happening so that we can save even one more person.”
“All of these people are suffering from some heat related illness,” Decla explained, moving towards the closest patient to her.
Zalavo knelt beside Decla, causing the woman to bristle away from him. He placed the back of his hand atop the patient’s forehead. His eyes darted around the patient’s body, taking mental notes of everything that he observed.
“Fever, sweating, fatigue, and tremors,” Zalavo stated. “Are there any concerns of it being contagious? If it’s Greller’s Breath, we all may be writhing on this floor very soon.”
“We’ve been exposed to the afflicted for well over a season without any spread to the druids that attended to them,” Decla reluctantly answered. “We can give them common medicine to reduce to the symptoms, but none are cured.”
“Any deaths?” Zalavo asked impassively.
“Several have died in our care recently,” Decla admitted. “We have heard that many more have died in their communities.”
The observed patient began coughing and writhing. Black saliva trickled from the corners of their mouth as Decla and Zalavo hopped into action to pin them to the floor and force them to drink a potion from Decla’s bag. The patient squirmed for a bit longer, their limbs weakly flailing about, until they returned to an inert state.
“And the saliva?” Zalavo inquired.
“There’s trace amounts of curse that lingers within them,” Decla answered with shame in her voice. “We are not sure if the disease is causing a curse or if the curse is causing the disease.”
“Are these people from the same area?”
“All are from Allbost and northwards,” Decla confirmed. “There have been forest fires as of late and the area can become engulfed in smoke. Unfortunately, our druids have yet to find out if a spirit the culprit of these fires it as wildfires naturally attract lesser fire spirits. There have yet to be signs of a named spirit powerful enough to create a curse.”
“The druid that I arrived with has exceptional spiritual sensitivity. I can try to convince them to assist you if you’d like,” Zalavo offered Carlan.
“While I believe it to be a wise action, we will discuss the details of that more in the morning,” Carlan replied before making his way towards the exit. “For now, I will inform the Tionól that you have settled into your work. Expect some refreshments to arrive shortly. Hopefully it gives you the energy needed to work through the night.”
As Zalavo and Decla began their treacherous partnership, their indecipherable medical conversation caused Valentin to doze off on his feet. His sore body and late night left him weary. However, his responsibility to prevent Zalavo’s murder forced him away from sleep and gave him the appearance of a reanimated corpse that stood menacingly over the patients that teetered between life and death. No doubt, his visage would serve to traumatize at least one unfortunate soul.
A trio of two-lined druids entered the room. Each carried a tray of steaming herbal beverages with a loaf of bread and hot soup. They placed them in free places near the healers and one next to Valentin.
With a small chorus of thanks, the druid turned to depart from the room. Valentin, in his delirium, thought he saw the smallest of grins from the druids as they looked over their shoulders at Zalavo. Valentin’s eyes narrowed at the action and looked down at his own meal suspiciously. He reached down and grabbed the loaf of bread. He gave it a small sniff and nothing seemed awry.
Still suspicious of the situation, he looked over to see that neither Zalavo nor Decla had even looked at the trays. They were too fastidiously tending to the overwhelming amount of patients to pay the refreshments much mind.
“Zalavo, switch platters with me,” Valentin ordered the healer.
“Whatever it is you’re thinking, it’s unnecessary,” Zalavo argued without turning to face Valentin.
“Then there won’t be any issues if I do so,” Valentin stated, following through with his plan without further approval. Decla curiously watched Valentin swap the trays before moving back to his spot.
He closely inspected the new tray. He did not see any visual differences between his tray and Zalavo’s. Sniffing the items brought no clarity either. Perhaps he was too cautious. It did not make any sense for the group that called for Zalavo’s help to immediate attempt to kill him on the first night. However, he could not discount the knowledge of disunity within the Tionól. Only one dissenting elder was needed.
“Most proper poisons are odorless or only have subtle odors,” Zalavo informed.
Valentin frowned at Zalavo’s insight and dipped a few bites of bread into his soup and washed it down with the herb infused water. Nothing tasted particularly off by the meal. Perhaps the druids of Allbost employ different flavors than what Valentin was accustomed to or they did so to obscure the flavors of something more sinister. Otherwise, the food was perfectly acceptable.
He found a fairly empty spot near the doorway and leaned against the wall. The choking sounds of the diseased combined with the odor of the packed room made it difficult to find rest. He knew that eventually, his exhaustion would deliver him to sleep, he just needed to wait for it.
Quilled pain formed in the pit of Valentin’s stomach and his limbs went numb, immediately bringing him fully back into the world. Fortunately, his possessions were not confiscated during his capture. He reached a clumsy hand into his jacket and pulled out a small bundle of processed herbs wrapped in a small square of paper. He opened his mouth and emptied the contents. Subconsciously, he began cycling his favor in an effort to counteract the feelings until the antidote could take its hold.
“Well, it was poisoned,” Valentin announced. He wiped his mouth and settled back into his position to manage his favor.
“You must be mistaken,” Decla denied, unwilling to entertain the possibility. “Your body is likely just unaccustomed to our ingredients and is having a negative reaction.”
While Decla had a look of genuine surprise on her face, Zalavo seemed as nonplussed as he ever was. He leaned over and ripped off a piece of his bread, dipping it into the soup and eating the entire thing in a single bite. As he chewed, he seemed to slowly absorb the flavors on his tongue, as though he possessed the ability of a royal gourmand.
Zalavo then moved to sample Valentin’s tray as well. He took smaller bites, seemingly as precaution. After tasting the meal sufficiently, he spit out the contents back out on the tray and rinsed his mouth out with water.
“How potent,” he commented. “You’ve been continuing your poison resistance training?”
“When I can,” Valentin answered. “Can be quite difficult to find deadly poisons. It’s not as though herbalists and apothecaries display those types of plants in their storefronts. Code phrases to gain access to them aren’t uniform either. It has stymied my progress significantly.”
“Your next bowel movement may be uncomfortable, but you won’t have any further complications,” Zalavo informed before returning to his post.
“What are the two of you plotting?” Decla asked with her eyes narrowed, clearly suspicious of the events that transpired. “What manner of performance is this?”
“No performance,” Zalavo rejected, his hands quickly measuring and mixing different quantities of medicine. “Someone found it necessary to poison me. I’d say that young Valentin over there saved my life, however, his act was wholly unnecessary. Either my poisoner did not understand that my Siloran blood is especially resistant to such methods or they simply wanted to make me uncomfortable here.”
Decla made an uncertain face towards Zalavo. Naturally, the druid did not trust a single word from his mouth that she could not immediately confirm on her own.
“If you refuse to trust me on principle, you are more that welcome to try it yourself.” Zalavo offered. “I have more than enough ingredients here to prevent you from dying to your own temple’s schemes.”
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“I’ll choose to believe it for now,” Decla conceded. “Poisoning myself and being left at your mercy to save me is unacceptable.”
Valentin chose to ignore Zalavo’s ungrateful attitude towards his selfless action. The early symptoms that he began to feel transitioned into lower abdominal discomfort. His body gurgled from the unwanted substance inside him. The discomfort went a long way in assisting him in staying awake.
Observable progress was slow and exhaustive. Zalavo, with Decla’s unwilling help, began to inspect the visible symptoms further and further. The jargon used between trained healers kept Valentin from being able to include himself in any way.
“So, what happened in Croismor?” Valentin finally inquired.
“What are you referring to?” Zalavo responded flatly.
“You stopped when you got to the part where the Holy Man of Allbost was put on trial before High Tiarna Echavin,” Valentin reminded, now attracting the attention of Decla.
“I told you already, he was never seen from again,” Zalavo insisted.
“Yet here you are,” Decla replied, shaking her head in disappointment. “I don’t understand why it is that you are still alive. How did you weasel your way out of justice?”
Zalavo looked between Decla and Valentin. He sighed morosely at the interrogation and set his tools to the side. He took to his tray and drank a large gulp of the flavored water that had long since cooled. He wiped his mouth and slowly found a place to rest.
“They reviewed my notes and my findings before the nobles of Echavin. Instead of a sword or a noose, I was told that someone of my talents was too great to be killed,” Zalavo explained listlessly towards the ceiling. “That my pure intentions should be considered admirable and worthy of forgiveness. I had an opportunity to be a continual asset to the people of Echavin. I was to be the personal healer of High Tiarna Echavin, my Holy Man moniker removed entirely.”
Valentin found himself unsurprised by the response. Most of the nobility that Valentin knew were far too pragmatic to throw away such talents for no gain. Valentin too, was no exception to such deliberations.
Decla was equally as unsurprised as Valentin. However, instead of displaying Valentin’s mild acceptance, the druid of Allbost seethed over the news. Her visibly strong sense of justice railed against such news. Her people deserved recompense for Zalavo’s misdeeds and the powers that ruled denied them in pursuit of their own gains.
“If it matters, I wanted to be punished as well,” Zalavo stated. “My unforgivable failures made me crave death. But they told me that my endeavors were not worthless. That I could still be redeemed that if I continued to support Echavin.”
“Of course you took it,” Decla muttered to herself.
“Since you are no longer with High Tiarna Echavin, I imagine that it did not go as you hoped it would,” Valentin commented.
“It went how you would expect it to go,” Zalavo admitted. “When I was at Allbost, I healed anyone that I could. In Croismor, I only saved those that High Tiarna Echavin told me to. For several cycles, I only healed the wealthy and nobles that Echavin could use. He traded my powers for riches and political favors in equal measure. Of course, if anyone ended up possessing the growths, I could still not save them.
There were several attempts on my life during that time. I was a political tool that indirectly caused a power imbalance amongst the regional powers. People that should be dead, but lived because of my interference waged border conflicts to increase their might. I saw all the war wounded and orphans roaming the streets, not permitted to go out and help them. I didn’t feel any of the redemption that I was promised. And so, still finding myself to be a hideous and contemptible beast, I decided that I would escape.
The most difficult part was choosing to do it. Leaving was surprisingly easy. I had a long enough leash that I could leave Croismor as I chose provided I had one guard to accompany me. Then all I had to do was slip some sleeping medicine in their lunch and I was off. I disappeared into the numerous villages between Croismor and the capital.
I ignored civilization, no longer willing to intermingle with it any longer. Instead, I traveled deep into the woods to the south of Stallfyr, I cannot recall where, with the full intent to immolate myself and spare the world of my existence.”
Valentin’s eyes widened from the revelation. While the most noble form of suicide, it was also the most painful by a significant amount. It was an act that he thought even teetered on the edge of mythos. However, the despondent look in Zalavo’s eyes made Valentin believe that the man’s words were true.
Decla was not as easily won over by the healer’s sentiments. Like all are want to do when confronted with a person they have good reason to despise, she seemed more interested in discrediting Zalavo’s sentiments than consider the honor within his tale.
“Then why are you still alive?” She challenged with a scowl and a pointed finger. “At least then I could have respected you again.”
“Your disparaging comments do not cause me to feel more guilt than I already do,” Zalavo informed snidely. “Just so you know, if you ever make a sedative from ellsroot or employ cold pills for chest tightness or any other manner of emergent internal medicine, then you have used my knowledge gained through dozens of deaths to help those lives.”
Decla’s complexion worsened from the internal conflict inserted into her head. Valentin sympathized with her mental strife but also felt relief that the woman may stop rudely interjecting in the story.
“You are correct, Decla,” Zalavo conceded to his hostile compatriot. “When I was buried in dry twigs and wood, I lost my nerve right when it was time to press the fire to the leaves and start my pyre. I was terrified of a death like that, as cowardly and hypocritical as it seemed. When I was feeling far more noble and indignant, I decided not to bring any of my sedatives or pain killers as I wished to feel all the pain inflicted upon me. I did not realize at the time that I would badly crave such comforts when the moment finally arose. So there I lay, in a pile of wood looking like a fool.
Eventually, I departed from my unlit pyre. I was depressed and full of hatred towards myself for lacking the ability to follow through on such a simple task. As I moved aimlessly through the woods, I heard someone yelling for help. I wished to ignore their calls, but I could not commit to it. I saw it as one last chance to help myself before finding my real conviction to die.
It was an old hunter, inadvertently caught in a rival’s trap. Their foot was skewered by a spike hidden in the ground and they needed help getting themselves loose before they slowly bled out. I got the feeling from talking to him that the two had been trying to kill each other for a long time. The hunter’s spear was slick red with blood and it was possible that this rival was recently killed and I stumbled upon the natural conclusion to their feud.”
Zalavo briefly halted his tale to take more drinks from his cold herbal water. As they waited for the story to continue, the labored sounds of breathing surrounded them. One man that was sputtering violently earned the attention of both healers.
While they worked to maintain the man’s life for a bit longer, Valentin got up and entered the hallway. He took a slow loop around the room, searching for any signs of nearby druids that seemed suspicious. Druids did travel innocuously throughout the ground floor where there were none previously. They looked at the disheveled warrior’s form with some concern, but ultimately ignored him in favor of their own business.
With only the unnatural light illuminating this portion of the ziggurat, Valentin could only speculate that it was nearing dawn. He wondered if his deg would be training properly without his presence enforcing such discipline. He wondered whether they plotted to rescue him after his unexpected capture. Such visions of their potential plans caused him deep consternation.
The sputtering ceased by the time Valentin neared the entrance to the room. Instead of seeing a treated patient, Valentin found a covered corpse with two sweating healers flanking him. He was surprisingly unbothered by it. If such renowned healers could not save him, then no one could.
Valentin returned to his position near the walls and remained quiet for a moment. He did not want to inadvertently interrupt anything.
“Valentin, go notify someone we need a body removed,” Zalavo requested.
Just as quickly as he reentered, Valentin exited the room again. It was not difficult to locate another druid. He waved one over to him. They approached him slowly and apprehensively, a look of distrust clouding their eyes.”
“There is a corpse in Decla’s infirmary that needs to be removed,” Valentin informed the druid. “Bring someone with you and take it to wherever it needs to go to be properly burned.”
“I’m sorry, but who are you?” The druid asked skeptically.
“I’m guarding a guest of Elder Carlan,” Valentin answered as nondescriptly as possible. “If you have difficulties believing me, you are more than welcome to go to Elder Carlan or inspect the body yourself.”
A sharp screaming emanated from the direction that Valentin came from, cutting off the druid’s response and gaining the attention of several more. Without looking to see if anyone was joining him on his investigation, Valentin hustled back towards the infirmary to see smoke seeping from the doorway.
Zalavo and Decla were frantically moving the lethargic patients away from the covered body that had somehow burst into flames. Valentin and a druid that followed him grabbed the body by unburnt fringes of cloth. Quickly and uncourteously, the pair half dragged and half flung the unfortunate corpse and allowed it to burn in the hallway. More druids rushed to suppress the flames, however, the body unnaturally transitioned into a pile of ash, leaving the area reeking of the horrid smells of a destroyed body that appeared to be little more than charcoal.
“This may be a foolish question,” Valentin said to nobody. “Has this happened to anyone else?”
“No,” Decla answered. She coughed and heaved from the burning air and exertion. “I have heard that the deceased have not required much flame to burn. I have never seen a patient combust in this fashion.”
Before the nearby druids had the opportunity to dispose of the charred pieces, a cacophony of footsteps echoed down the hallway. Even without seeing the four lines on their faces, Valentin knew that the Tionól of Allbost had arrived. They wore beautiful earthen colored robes made from linen. Gold bracelets suffocated their wrists and gem embedded ornate linen caps billowed atop their heads.
They pushed past Valentin and the other bystander druids to enter the infirmary. Valentin watched them jostle for position to determine the order of entrance into the room. He shadowed the group and loitered by the doorway while he watched the scene unfold inside.
“Would someone explain to me what has occurred here?” An elder that was not Carlan asked.
“What did you do?” A different elder asked Zalavo pointedly. They moved to get directly into the healer’s face. “You have not been here a day and things have already deteriorated so quickly. And why does it reek of curse?”
“Elder Dughall, Elder Kalene, why don’t we stop the interrogation until Decla can tell us what occurred?” Elder Carlan proposed. While he requested patience, a stern look of judgment plastered his face and contradicted his words.
“As much as I am loathe to admit it, Zalavo had nothing to do with this,” Decla reported to her Tionól with a complex look on her face. “A patient’s condition suddenly worsened and they perished after a few minutes. While we waited for someone to arrive to remove the body, the corpse burst into flames. If Valentin and Druid Aden did not act quickly, I worry that the flames could have spread to the rest and killed them all.”
“Could he have tampered with the body when you weren’t looking?” Elder Kalene inquired. “Slipped them some heinous concoction to worsen their symptoms?”
“No,” Decla replied. “I was between this patient and Zalavo the entire time. “He also only prepared medicines that I knew with ingredients we have provided. Unless both of us misidentified an ingredient, then that is not a possibility.”
“Then what about-“
“Elders,” Carlan interrupted. “I think we should trust Decla instead of trying to continue to prescribe blame to Zalavo. We should simply be thankful that the worst did not come to pass and that Decla is safe. Now, you both should rest and allow fresh healers to take your place. Zalavo, I will show you to your room if you wish to stay within the temple. Otherwise, I will escort you to the entrance and you can rest in the quarters we arranged for your escort.”
“I will accept your hospitality next time, Elder Carlan,” Zalavo said. “As you know, I’d like to discuss some things with the druid from Verbosc I told you about.”
“Very well, please follow me,” Carlan requested.
Valentin felt that the interaction was quite rushed as he followed Carlan and Zalavo through the passageways. He imagined that if things progressed naturally, Zalavo might have been killed before his first night officially ended.
“Where were the Elder’s that voted yes?” Valentin questioned.
“Slower to rise than the ones that voted no,” Carlan answered. “You know how hatred is a better motivator to get out of bed in the morning. Besides, three of us aren’t enough to cast an emergency vote to overturn the original decision of the Tionól. I did not want poor Decla to be held hostage by pageantry.”
The trio found a stone staircase that would lead them up to the main prayer room. Compared to the midday prior, the early dawn greeted no occupants. One lined druid’s cleaned the floors and polished the holy artifacts in preparation for the arrival of the masses later in the morning. Golden statues of eagles and strange shaped men gleamed in early light. All of them stopped their work to offer respects to their esteemed elder’s authoritative appearance. The terse elder waved off the shows of respect to allow the lower druids to continue with their chores.
“What is your opinion now?” Carlan asked Zalavo.
“It’s far more than a disease,” Zalavo answered confidently. “The underlying curse is one that I cannot identify. Such things do not fall under my talents. If you do not have druids that are highly perceptive to spiritual energy, then we will need Maeve to look at them. She is truly blessed in this aspect of the holy arts.”
“I will have our best spiritualists take a look at them,” Carlan confirmed. “However, more eyes, especially gifted ones, will not be to anyone’s detriment. Unlike you, we can trust the reputation of the Temple of Verbosc. If they say that she is that talented, then it is no fabrication.”
“She will join me upon my return along with a couple warriors sent to watch over her,” Zalavo promised. “I plan on using your seal next time. It would be inconvenient to all of us if she is ceremonially imprisoned.”
“Naturally,” Carlan nodded. “But not this one, he gathered too much attention. Unlike you, he’s a Southerner, easy to remember in Allbost.”
He gestured towards the main stairs that descended the ziggurat. Early devotees already began to line the stairs in wait for the holy ones to allow the inside. However, unlike their entrance the day before, their presence alongside one of the elders provided them with far more looks of respect from those that waited.
Valentin’s feet dragged themselves down the steps to the ground below. His eyes strained to stay open as he mindlessly took step by step. Miraculously, he did not take the unfortunate misstep that would send him tumbling down.
“Here,” Zalavo said, handing Valentin a black root. “Eat this and you’ll have energy to carry to you to the evening. I imagine that you don’t want to sleep the day away.”
“I don’t,” Valentin agreed and took a bite out of the root.
He chewed unhappily on the tart root. He sharply sucked his saliva to remove the flavor from his mouth before swallowing the ingredient. There was little in the way of immediate effects. His mind still lumbered lethargically. However, there was a lightness to his muscles that made them feel slightly invigorated.
They walked in silence while Valentin forced down the rest of the root. Ortus’ early radiance greeted the town’s earliest risers. Birds warbled their morning tune to signify to all that it was time to rise.
“What happened with the hunter in the end?” Valentin asked Zalavo once they had gone down half the steps.
“He admitted to me that he had killed his bitter enemy, his own brother,” Zalavo replied. “Kin killing is a crime far worse than a simple murder. The law encourages such a person to be sentenced to death. Nature was meting out the punishment on behalf of the law. But he shamelessly begged me for his life nonetheless.”
“Did you help them?” Valentin questioned.
From Valentin’s perspective, it only made sense for them to die as consequence. Whether or not one could take a live themselves is one thing, but to do nothing and leave nature and the spirits to sort it out was another entirely.
“I did,” Zalavo admitted. “I felt that I no longer had the authority or spiritual purity to determine the death of another. Concepts such as righteousness and justice were not ideals that I could represent. Whether I slit their throat or left them to perish on their own, I was participating in that judgment. The only thing that I could do was try to keep them alive. If they died on their own afterwards or they continued to do bad in the future, so be it.
I decided in that moment that, instead of ending my life, I would spend the rest of it saving as many lives as possible. I thought it would be a better service to those that perished than committing suicide could. Ferron is a useful vehicle to achieve those purposes. By joining him, I am able to visit many more villages than I could on my own. Even if I disagree with his work.”
“Then the upcoming war must be especially difficult for you,” Valentin commented.
Zalavo stopped and stood motionless on the steps. Valentin quickly stopped and regarded Zalavo with a curious expression. However, it seemed that his thoughts and attention had quickly turned inwards.
“Yes, it will be difficult.”