Chapter 112
A Little Bit Broken
“AAAAAGGGHHHHHH!!!” Sylas didn’t linger about too much after catching up to the peak of his Way, immediately heading for the library. This time around, he had a clear goal in mind: putting ‘faces’ to the names the ‘Son of Anur’, whatever that may mean, mumbled. It wouldn’t be easy, but at least he had a frame of reference, that being the Kingdom’s nobility.
He paused in front of the library abruptly, his lips twitching. Standing by the door frame and leaning onto it was Agnes. He hadn’t seen her this loop and had begun to think she may not have remembered it this time around, but it looks like she did. It was better this way, as he would have even more help.
“Yo’,” he called out. “Where have you been?”
“Praying,” she replied, stepping aside while Sylas opened the doors and walked in. Memories came flooding back, steeped in the deep past of when he first met Valen, when the boy was hawked at still by the castle’s maids.
“Praying for what?” he asked.
"Answers, mostly," she said, her tone heavy. "As to how they could allow a monster like that to not only live but swallow an entire village in his vileness?" Sylas glanced at her and noted the black circles underneath her eyes. She seemed tired, but not the kind of tiredness that emerges from hard work--it was the sort steeped in pain and anguish and long, languid, sleepless nights when the restless mind belts and beats and screams into the void.
“Did you get any? Answers, I mean.”
“... no,” she said, sitting down. “Just... memories. It’s different with the dead,” she added, looking at him. “It makes sense. But... a person killing their own kind?”
“I always figured you were naive,” Sylas said, reaching for the two main books he was after that detailed the recent history of Noble Families in the Kingdom. “But this is bordering dangerous.”
“What do you mean?” she frowned.
“It’s just who we are, innately,” he said, dusting off the books and handing one over to her. “We are warlike, greedy, selfish, and hopeless. Primal.”
“That’s--”
"The difference," he interrupted, looking up and at her sternly. "Is that we have the capacity for change. We have the ability to choose--choose not to be any of those things. That's the difference between good men and not-so-good ones. That choice. Most people will choose to be good. Some will choose to be evil. Others neither. He chose neither."
“What?! How is he not evil?!” she argued, ignoring the book.
“Then, do you think I’m a good man?” he asked suddenly. “No, even more importantly--do you think you are a good person?”
“I... y-yes, I think we are both good people.” she said.
"Then we are good," he smiled faintly. "To us, he is evil. To us, we are good. Flip the story, and to him, we are in his way, nuisances. And, just like he said, he's a hero. You don't have to agree with it. Just understand that people are infinite variants all bound within the frame of the same desires. We all want to be loved or respected in some capacity. It's just that we go down different paths trying to accomplish it. Setting your coming-of-age struggle aside for a moment," he added. "Look for the names he mentioned, starting with his: Anur. After, look for Mullin, Fyre, Killard, and Haren."
“...”
“Hey, did you hear me?”
“Y-yes, I did.”
“What names?”
“Mullin, Fyre, Killard, Haren, and Anur.”
“... you were pretty sheltered, even within your visions, huh?” Sylas said.
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“It’s not as though I never saw men kill each other,” she said. “But... it’s always in the context of a battle. Of war. Where it makes sense. Never killing ordinary people who can’t even put up a fight.”
“Well, now you did,” he added. “Start reading. It will take your mind off of things.”
Sylas refocused on the book, flipping swiftly through the pages, only looking for the names and ignoring everything else. He was fairly familiar with the general structure of the Kingdom, though the names were mostly a blur as it’s been decades since he last read through these tomes and refreshed his knowledge.
Pages blurred in his eyes, though he didn't encounter any of the names. Though he knew he still wouldn't truly understand the dynamics of things, it would be a start. Afterward, he would ask Valen for the fuller picture--or at least the surface-level fuller picture, before once again making the trek south to look for more answers. No, he quickly shook his head. Going back is pointless since I’d immediately get killed. I need to evolve the Heartseeker before moving out.
“I found one,” Agnes’ voice brought him out of his thoughts. “Killard.”
“Yes?”
“Says here,” she continued. “They’re one of the older Noble Families, though they are ‘just’ an Earl’s Estate. They are known for their silver and gold mines, making them one of the richest estates in general. The rest is just listing off some prominent names of the house from the history, all of whom seem to be Royal Treasurers.”
“... alright. Keep looking.” though it wasn’t much, it was a start. He knew that Killards weren’t just some rich, connected-to-royalty estate--they were tangled in the shadowy wars of the Kingdom in more ways than one, likely funding some of the players directly or indirectly. Hm?
He stopped flipping, coming across a name--Anur. It was a fairly thick passage, detailing out their history which immediately caught his eyes.
The name 'Anur' derives from the old tongue's word for 'Holy' -- annun -- and was bestowed upon General Mekeen-Ni-Tahata by Her Majesty, the Kingdom's First Holy Queen Naia. Since the dawn of victory, House Anur has served the Throne with eclipsing loyalty, participating in every war since. It has always bolstered the strongest troops, with countless historic figures born within the House's Ranks -- Fenly the Revered, who defended Hildar's Pass against an army of 6,000 with only 800 men at his side for whole three weeks before reinforcements arrived. Then there was Vanir the Bestowed, who managed to take his small, private troop of 60 Knights and take over one of the major border castles, Kvinta, in a single night.
...
House Anur has been traditionally wed into the Royal Blood by the means of their Daughters, such so that twenty-two Queens altogether have been direct descendants of House Anur. It is likely that with the death of His Majesty Bevuun and the Crowning of his Son, Crown Prince Wyvenul, young Lady Lea Anur, the Prince’s Betrothed, will ascend to the position of Queen, marking her the twenty-third Anur Lady to hold such position.
...
House Anur’s roots run long and deep, their hands intertwined with many of the Kingdom’s projects. Be it road pavements connecting many of its lustrous cities, or some of the monumental projects that distinguish our Great Kingdom from the others, House Anur is always at the forefront, representing the fierce Loyalty and Love to the Crown that should serve as an example to others.
...
Sylas' frown was deep as he leaned back. Lady Lea Anur... was the Kingdom's current Queen, the very same one that effectively banished Valen and had begun stirring the ire of the Kingdom through her antics. That would make Prince Wyvenul the current King, the passive sort that stood by and watched it all happen. And House Anur, though it wasn't specified anywhere, was likely the most powerful house in the Kingdom.
And that man... was the supposed son of Anur. There was a caveat there, however, Sylas recognized; it would be easy to immediately jump to connecting the man to the House Anur, but there was the alternative--that he was somehow connected to the original meaning of the word, that is ‘annun’. Which would make him the ‘Holy Son’.
Sylas wasn't willing to jump to either of the conclusions as both were loaded with possible misinterpretation. Rather, he decided he'd probe the man himself for answers eventually. Until then, a headache would suffice. However, bit by bit, he was pulling the curtain. The Kingdom was no longer as alien as it was when he first landed in it. Though many corridors still remained unlit and harrowing, it was at least not a void no longer.
“Hey,” he called out Agnes, causing her to look up. “I’m sorry.”
“H-huh? For what?”
“For being a jackass,” he said. “In my hurry to get somewhere, I forgot to be human. A common thing, really.”
“... it’s fine,” she said. “You were a jackass, but also right. Besides, you’re always a jackass. So, are you apologizing for being who you are?”
“You terrify me, you know that?” Sylas said suddenly.
“What? Why?” she exclaimed, looking at him strangely.
“... because you remember,” he replied, causing her confused expression to vanish, replaced by a faintly painful one.
“I might forget, you never know,” she said.
“Don’t know which is scarier, to be honest,” he sighed, leaning further back, rocking the chair. “But... for while you remember, I’ll try. To be nicer, I mean.”
“... it’s fine,” she cracked a wide smile, the dimples of her cheeks pronouncing the contour of her lips further. “I don’t mind you the way you are.”
“Really? Ah, you must be as fucked up as I am, then,” he said.
“I might just be,” she chuckled. “But... nothing wrong with being a little bit broken, I’ve learned,” she leaned further, resting her head on her arms, her smile mellowing out further. “It just means we’ve survived whatever tried to kill us... and found the strength to live on.” Sylas chuckled, shaking his head. Though, it was nice to hear it, even if to just mask his mind for a little while. He was not unwhole, just a little bit broken.