— A little while ago…

Inside Castle Westbreak, the gardens that Kalender, Jyn, and Page used to know were now trampled underfoot by marching sandals and iron boots. He only saw those grim faces from afar. They were soldiers, unlike him; he was only caught up in everything. He had just been going along with the flow, following what Jyn said and staying out of the way. Cause no trouble, leave no trace—wasn’t it almost like a hiker’s creed?

But watching those soldiers switch with the wounded ones on the walls, he could feel the time coming: of when he had to do something he didn’t want to do. It was going to happen whether he liked it or not, but it was an ugly thing no matter the advertising. Call it a solution, an escape, or a necessary evil, it would never be something he could look in the face.

Charming wasn’t saving, no matter how he looked at it. Couldn’t there be a way out of this that didn’t see him doing that? … Like killing the source of all this, for instance?

Because of all the things that man had done to the people of this town, Kalender found himself thinking more flexibly. Maybe, he wondered, I won’t feel guilty killing someone if it’s him. It’s all to stop this massacre, after all. After adding together the pros and cons, the utility values, and the obligations that came with his power—reading down every ethical checklist he could think of—killing that man…could actually be a good thing to do.

He and the group had come in through a sally port away from the main gate. The knights who’d accompanied them had been led away by a Maid, and now, Gellar was the one showing them the rest of the way—away from the stalwart soldiers, the desperate militia, and the fortunate halves of unfortunate families who had barely managed to escape Harmony’s darkest night.

“The situation is out of control. We need to coordinate with Lord Shal-yen,” Gellar had said.

They walked under a shaded walkway, following the periphery of the gardens. Kalender wouldn’t say a thing, while Page seemed fidgety in front of him. In the corner of his eye, Jyn was scanning the crowd of refugees filing through the tall doors of the castle.

“Are you looking for her?” he asked her. She looked at him with a small gasp. She collected herself, but only enough to reply.

“Even seeing the top of her head would be enough,” she said.

He couldn’t imagine what it was like to have to be separated from his only family. For him, the people around him right now were the closest he had to one, and they’d always been together for the most part.

He stopped walking. Gellar and Page ahead of him noticed this and stopped and turned towards him. “Go find her,” he told Jyn. He looked towards Gellar, asking with his eyes whether this should be fine. She nodded.

“Are you sure?” Jyn asked. “I can go with you” —

“Just take a quick look, Jyn,” he interrupted her. She was about to speak, but maybe his frown was enough of an appeal.

“I’ll find you again soon,” she said. Her gaze lingered on him even as she started to move away, but soon, she turned away completely, and she started at a jog towards the belly of the castle.

“Let’s go,” Gellar said. She started walking, but Kalender dragged his feet. He couldn’t stop watching Jyn’s retreating back.

“Kal?” Page called. She was waiting on him.

He looked at her. “Sorry.” He rooted his focus in the present and moved up beside her. “Let’s go.”

***

Lord Shal-yen stood in the middle of his office, facing the door; he couldn’t bear to sit still. The tall window behind him, a stained glass portrait of someone’s wrong idea of Minimine’s appearance, flashed in brilliant colors with every demonic and divine attack.

They were brilliant, but he didn’t bother to look.

His castle shook with every attack and counterattack—ah, it wasn’t technically ‘his’ castle, but the Princess Knight’s. Right, right…

The door opened, and a Maid who’d hastily donned a cuirass over her maid uniform, came inside. She bowed before speaking. “A report m’lord. Maid Sherry has sallied with twenty-three Clerics and Maids.”

The stone in his pocket had shined earlier. That meant there was an Inquisition asset somewhere out there; he just didn’t know who. All he knew was there was someone out there with a paired stone, someone important enough to the Inquisition to be given one. They were either very talented, or they knew something very important. Whether it was strength or intelligence, getting their help would increase everyone’s chances of survival, but even then, sending Sherry out was a gamble. Hopefully she and her cohort came back, even if empty-handed.

“What of Kalender and his group?”

“They’ve just arrived, m’lord.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Send for him. I need to talk to him.”

“At once, m’lord.” The Maid bowed, walking backwards out the door, pulling it closed with a soft click.

It was just him and his thoughts now. What had become of his hometown? The thunder and vibrations answered him. Had he perhaps lived for too long? Ah, his mother probably wouldn’t be able to sleep well with all this racket going on.

The door opened again. Speak of the devil.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“Sha-sha?” Her mother—Kal-yen poked her head inside. Shal-yen was about to tell her to go return to her retirement room, but when he saw her fully armored and holding her spear, the fabled Crustpiercer, he welcomed her inside.

“Mother, just in time. We have massage chairs, now,” he said with a smile. The castle shook again.

“Your mother isn’t stupid, Shal-yen,” she said. Although she still carried a comforting voice, Shal-yen’s mental subtitles were saying, ‘You will listen to me or suffer the consequences.’

Kal-yen walked up to the window and cast her gaze down on the streets. She scratched her head. “It’s hard to tell whether the ladies down there are zombies or not.” She feigned thinking hard, playful as ever. “They don’t look like they are.”

The only thing Shal-yen ever wanted for his mother was for her to properly retire. She’d come out of retirement about three times by now, and he’d be damned if she did it a fourth time. The problem this time, however, wasn’t something she could easily bury under bedrock. How could he explain it in a way that— No, there’s no use sugarcoating it. Those last three times’ problems hadn’t been as bad as this one, not even combined.

“They’re all cursed, mother,” he said plainly. “They come back alive after a while, too. I’m afraid there’s nothing much even your spear can do.”

Kal-yen stopped and looked at him for a moment. “I see.” She went to the corner of the room and made herself comfortable on a luxurious seat. The castle shook. “Oh, you’re right, it’s a massage chair.”

“We do have a trump card,” Shal-yen continued. “So don’t worry.”

Kal-yen eyed him for an uncomfortable moment. “Then why are you worried, dear?”

Shal-yen sighed. “It’s all up to whether the said trump card is even up to the task. If it were me, I” —he slowed down— “I don’t think I could do it.” He looked out the window. “If I couldn’t do it, I’m not sure if I should even ask him to do such a thing.”

Kal-yen’s hand landed on her son’s shoulder. “Tell me all about it, dear. Mother will take care of it.”

***

Kalender followed Gellar up the stairs. Page was behind him. A minute later, they were in front of a door guarded by two Maids in black dresses on either side.

Gellar looked at him. “It’s about time.”

He raised a hand. “Just a moment,” he said. Gellar nodded. He looked back at Page. “I’m not sure what’s going to happen from now on. If it comes down to it, you don’t have to follow me all the way to the end, alright?”

Her eyes widened. “Why would you tell me that?”

He couldn’t say anything to that. It was like he was pushing her away, but—no, that was exactly what he was doing. He didn’t want her to get hurt.

“I know you’re worried,” she continued, “but…agh!” She pulled her hair. “I don’t know how to comfort people…”

That got a slight chuckle out of him.

She looked at him again. “Look, I’ll be here when you come out.”

Her intent and smile were enough for him. “Thanks,” he said. “Be right back.” He was tempted to just stay here with her, but he shouldn’t keep Shal-yen waiting—not while the castle shook, reminding him it wasn’t right for him to stand still.

He turned around and stood in front of the door, and one of the guards opened it for him. He already suspected what was waiting for him on the other side. In the end, this was just something he had to get over with—something he had to live with after it was done.

He went inside. He found Shal-yen staring out the window, but he didn’t expect to find a different elf sitting on Shal-yen’s chair, a woman wearing armor fit for a hero.

Her eyes were on him. Her lips curled with a friendly smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said. It made him nervous; she knew him, but he didn’t know her. She gestured to the seat across from her. “Have a seat, dear. Make yourself comfortable.”

He took measured steps towards the chair and sat down. He couldn’t make himself comfortable, though—not even a little.

“Would you loosen up a little, young man?” the elf said. Her friendly expression hadn’t worn off, and Kalender couldn’t find any evidence of malice in how she carried herself. It’s just that Shal-yen hadn’t turned around nor made a sound up until now. Was he even still alive?

“Sorry to scare you, but I’m actually Shal-yen’s mother.”

“Really?” Kalender cupped his mouth as he’d blurted that out.

She giggled. “I like that forthright-ness! My name’s Kal-yen.” She grinned this time. She had, after all, succesfully pulled off a classic elf prank!

… And he’d taken quite the damage from it. He pushed his embarrassment down as low as it could go. “Ah, my name’s Kalender.”

“Both our names start with ‘Kal.’ Amusing, isn’t it?”

Kalender smiled politely, but he knew this was all just a preamble for the real subject.

Kal-yen seemed to have felt his discomfort. Her smile wavered for a moment, and she tilted her head down to look at the surface of the desk her elbows rested on.

“Let me tell you something about my husband,” she started. She paused for a moment, letting Kalender connect the dots in his head:

Kal-yen = Shal-yen’s mother

Shal-yen = son of Jonas, Hero of Harmony

… therefore, Kal-yen’s husband = Jonas

He looked at her again. Hero Jonas had died centuries ago. It was…surreal to be in front of her.

“That man,” she continued, “he always hated making hard choices. It didn’t help that he had so much power that he never did have to do so.”

A nostalgic smile came and went from her face. “He’d always say, ‘There’s always a third option.’ I mean, I didn’t think he’d extend that concept to his wives, but” —shrug— “he was amazing. Just when everyone would think there was no hope, he’d see another way—always another way.”

Her smile wavered. “But it wasn’t a good way to live.” She paused. “In some ways, he was also a weak man. He never wanted to make the hard choices, after all. I don’t think he’d have lasted long if there had ever come a time when he ran out of third choices. He was just disgustingly lucky, I think.”

She locked eyes with him, letting the silence soak into his ears.

“Why are you telling me this?” he finally said. The castle was shaking, and every now and then, the light of attack magic flashed through the windows, illuminating the ceiling, casting their shadows across the room, and casting a limelight on Kalender’s stupefied face.

“Because all the men around me are being idiots,” Kal-yen said with a sigh. “Whether it’s my husband, my son, or you, you all want to make the best, most perfect decision in an imperfect world. When my Sha-sha here asks you what he wants to ask of you, I need you—the both of you to remember, the best decision is the one that gets you out of the shit you’re in.”

Kal-yen stood up, walked around the table, to the door, and grabbed her spear before she left—leaving Kalender stunned and speechless.

Being on the receiving end of strong words from someone he’d just met for the first time, ‘shocked’ was the most basic description for him. She’d spoken as if she knew everything there was to know about him. … She wasn’t even wrong.

He had been looking for an easy way out, even hoping he could just off the guy at the center of this madness, but in the end, the easy way out was just wishful thinking: it was the impossible way out, a way that depended on strengths he didn’t have, a way that utilized none which he already possessed.

He chuckled to himself, maybe a little mad—and maybe a little impressed—that Kal-yen had known what to say. All this time, his conundrum was like a puzzle made of pieces with burning edges, yet the answer seemed so clear in front of the intuition of the long-lived.

“I think we both get it,” Shal-yen said, turning towards him. Resignation was written on his face. “Unfortunately.” He gave pause. Even he wasn’t prepared. He knew many of the townspeople, and he was about to ask this man to repossess their fates. “Amelia had informed me that you’re cleared to do it. Circumstances being as they are, would you go out there, Kalender?”