I arranged for one of my aids to protect and tour the girl, Eir, through the sanctuary, letting her get acquainted with her temporary housing. In time, I would pass her on to the mentors, who would see if she had any skills or potential that would let her find a profession worthy of her talents. It would take time, I knew. Eir was like so many who had been part of the first wave of refugees brought in to found this city. Abused, broken, lost, alone. That they had all managed to maintain some kind of order in those first, frenzied months had been nothing short of a miracle. The knights, who then rose to become the first councillors, had been instrumental in keeping things organized.

Especially you Diantha, you clockwork bitch, I thought grimly. You dreamed of empire, but awoke to a republic.

Still, Eir was unique. Not for any quality she had, for nothing had yet been revealed about what she was capable of. No, it was simply the fact that she was their sole link to finding what had happened to the Liberator. The man who had emerged seemingly from nowhere, liberated every slave in Occlium and Utrium, waged a grand and bloody war, before finally ending it in one decisive battle. I had been with him almost from the beginning, commanding his bodyguards and shielding him from knives in the dark. I had thought I had become adept at predicting his antics, for he often worked too diligently, exhausting himself so that he could plan, train and see to the many labours required to keep a growing army under control.

But then he had vanished one day, leaving me and every single member of his republic behind. There had been whispers of his presence, with him fighting alongside his old allies. I had believed that once he had concluded his business, he would come home. But the band he had fought with for so long, the Silver Sigil, had seemingly disbanded, going their separate ways. Yet he had not returned to them. The mystery had kept me and other surviving comrades, the Lightguards, awake for many nights. That he had appeared so suddenly and left without a word both infuriated me… and left me deeply concerned.

Alas, I wouldn’t press the girl too hard. The child was practically dead on her feet, suffering at the abuse of a man Bergunn would gladly have killed without a second thought. She had ensured that many such souls had died in the Liberation War, feeling no small amount of satisfaction with every kill. But that didn’t change the fact that Eir needed food, sleep, better clothing and the sense that she was finally safe. I would give her time, then return to question her again.

I needed to get to work anyway. The sanctuary was constantly sheltering and tending to new refugees, the demand for food, medicine and care was less than it had been at the beginning, but still made for hard labour. I did not regret the change from soldier to caretaker, for despite my satisfaction with conflict I had always longed to put down my spear. Healing the wounds left behind by King Dextran and his inner council was necessary, and it also meant that I could help oversee the destruction of the bastard’s legacy.

The day passed as it always did, frenzied and swiftly. There was always something to tend to, always requests for help, always someone wanting to hear a war story. These expectations did nothing to change the fact that each day was a new experience. The lands of the republic had once been a brutally cruel slave empire, and the two years that had passed since this nation’s founding had not been nearly enough to repair the damage done to the bodies and minds of all the tortured and abused who now found themselves in improved circumstances. Yet each day, I watched as those who worked under me do their very best, bringing minds out of fear and madness back into the light. Seeing one soul retrieved from such depths would’ve been a worthy enough reward for a lifetime, but I got to see it happen almost every day.

The hours waned by, the sun getting low, my workers being allowed to go home for their hard work. In the end, the caretakers saw to it that everyone was returned to their rooms, the mess hall was cleaned, and Arnja–bless her soul–took over for me. I had the evening to myself, a rare enjoyment in my constantly busy life.

I took a night walk, which was made all the more satisfying for its scarcity. As I stepped out of the Sanctuary to look at the rising city of Valadonia, I got to observe the progress of my people. It had taken many nights of hairpulling frustration to plan the layout of my new home, and I had been tempted to just scream at everyone to just shut up and begin construction, rather than letting our army and people sleep in their tents for another night. But I had to give it to Diantha, the effort required by serious urban planning was paying off. The pale structures, capped by orange-tiled roofs, were seemingly everywhere in sight.

That, and the wonders that were being constructed took my breath away the more they climbed toward completion. The council hall, the Erudite Hold, the Titan Bank, the great lighthouse, each rose higher and higher over every month. In a year the city would finally be complete and they could turn their attention and growing wealth to other projects. But though I longed for the day that my home would finish construction, I still took the time to enjoy these nascent, optimistic years. It was like reliving a forgotten childhood.

My walk led me down to the harbour, which was in a strange period of calm. Typically ships from all over the world would come here, curious to see the new wares of a new realm. That we had been able to provide them with more than they expected only heightened business, giving us the gold we sorely needed to maintain our forward momentum. I walked pass traders, merchants and sailors who sat on crates or coils of rope, swapping tales and simply enjoying the cool night air. I walked pass them all, feeling strangely content with seeing them all at peace. They were the lifeblood of the city, for now, and they deserved rest for their hard labour.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

I walked out onto one of the smaller piers, staring out into the dark ocean beyond. Grey clouds dotted the sky, a crescent moon shining down from above, the stars brilliantly set into the sky. I could see the ships of the Mirror Fleet out there, their reflective sails turning faintly silver under lunar rays. I came here sometimes to think. The hustle and bustle of the sanctuary left little time for me to focus on my own thoughts for more than a few minutes, and this particular pier was only used by fishermen. At this time, it was practically abandoned.

It should have been.

“Hello, Bergunn.”

I scowled. “Hello, Liberator.”

I turned, expecting to see the face of my general, my liberator, my… charge. I expected him to come clad in the robes of a councillor, or in the armour he had ordered forged once the war was over. But he defied my expectations yet again. He was clad in some fusion of a cloak and long coat, made of fine white threads and layered in pale feathers. He had forsaken his shield, with only a seemingly simple sword hanging at his hip. A plain white sash was wrapped around him, the texture practically sail-like. But those were the peripheral details I took in, my focus was on the mask obscuring his face.

It was made of black ice, darker than the night that surrounded us. Yet it was also luminous, tiny lights shifting within. The little stars lit up the area around him, making him appear in the centre of a spotlight. The mask was practically form-fitting, sealed on, and I wasn’t sure if it could ever be removed.

“What has happened to you?” I asked, eyes wide.

He walked forwards a few steps, his hands held behind his back. “How fares your newest charge?”

I glowered at him, shock being eradicated by anger. “You leave for an entire year without a word, drop some poor girl on my doorstep before vanishing again, clad yourself in entirely new magic, show up at my favourite fucking spot in the city, and you don’t even have the decency to answer my first question?”

He laughed softly. Tree fend, it was still his laugh.

“My apologies, captain,” he replied, the lights in his mask shimmering. “I didn’t expect to be gone for more than half a year, once I had fully grasped the circumstances of the danger. But there was a sudden change, dark events occurred… and I made a choice. A very, very selfish choice.”

I crossed my arms, scowling. “Firstly, I’m not a captain anymore. You relieved me after the war, remember? Secondly, it wasn’t within your power to send so much as a single message? Thirdly, I think you’re fairly entitled to at least one selfish choice after all you did for us.”

He froze momentarily, then relaxed. The fool boy was probably smiling under his mask.

“My apologies, Bergunn, memory escaped me briefly. And indeed I could have sent one, but chose not to, for fear of what you all may do. As to your final point… I may have crossed the boundaries of what a reasonable choice may be.”

I didn’t relax my stance. “Explain yourself, then.”

“I was forewarned of the imminent release of a potential danger to the world,” he replied. “I rejoined with my old allies, and we killed the ancient Emperor. But… we were betrayed. We were forced to put down the man who had seized the prisoner’s power for himself, lest he subjugate the whole world. We killed him too… and I made a choice that has changed me forever. Throughout all of this, I made certain to keep you and everyone else in the dark. Because you would try to help me, and for your good nature, you would die.”

“Arrogant, foolhardy boy,” I snarled, stepping forward until I loomed over him, fists clenched. “We went to war with you. Demons, vampires, monsters, entire armies, we fought those alongside you. Yet you thought us too weak to fight beside you?”

He nodded. “Could you fight a god, Bergunn?”

I froze. “Explain yourself.”

“A god,” he replied plainly, spreading his arms wide. “A weaker one, but still a true divinity, a celestial of the oververse. How many of us would have died in our efforts to kill him? I was willing to risk the Silver Sigil, for they knew the danger. I was not willing to risk my people, not against that.”

I stumbled back from him, looking him up and down once again. He had been a holy man, of a kind. He had sworn an oath to a god, one of the great Aesir, and the power gained from that devotion had seen him through many battles. I had always sensed the faint presence of that being when in his direct presence, a warding aura that shielded all around him from terror and harm. That aura was still there, but it no longer belonged to that being. Instead… instead, the strength was all his now.

“What have you done?” I breathed.

“I made a selfish choice,” he repeated, true remorse bleeding into his words. “I’m sorry, Bergunn. If this hadn’t occurred, I would have been more than happy to stay here in Valadonia until my dying day. But now… that shall never occur.”

“How did you find her, the girl?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

He looked at me, the lights in the mask shifting to form two spheres over where his eyes would be. His stare was more focused, more concentrated, more powerful… it was simply more than it had been. Even in the cool night, to stare into those nightly eyes was to feel as if I was looking directly up at the sun in a summer afternoon.

“She prayed.”