Chapter 284: Duty & Honor
Plum waited at the gate at the end of the coliseum’s southern tunnel. She paced around impatiently and twisted her hands back and forth anxiously. The next match would be beginning soon. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Veronica appeared at the edge of the tunnel.
“Plum?” she asked, genuinely surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to talk my friend out of doing something monumentally stupid,” Plum crossed her arms.
She smiled wryly, “Now where’s the fun in that?”
“This isn’t funny, Veronica. Didn’t you learn anything from our little misadventure in Shadow Lake? We almost died!”
Veronica raised her index finger, “Ah, but we didn’t, did we?”
“Only because some creepy wraith-looking lady saved us! And even then a bunch of innocent guards died because of us!”
“Let’s be honest, there probably aren’t any guards working for House Thorn who are innocent,” Veronica grinned.
“And what about their families? Their children who aren’t even old enough to understand why their father or mother didn’t come home that night. Do you think they were guilty? Do you think they deserved to lose their families all because a bunch of stupid kids tried to break into some ruins!?”
“I didn’t realize you felt so strongly about all of this,” Veronica winced, “You know I was just joking. I didn’t mean what I said earlier.”
“Of course, you didn’t! That’s your problem, you never mean anything! Everything is just a joke to you! But unlike you, I know what it’s like to find out your parents aren’t coming home!”
Veronica’s eyes widened, “Plum, I didn’t realize-”
“But I listened to you anyway…” Plum bit her lip, “And now those children will have to grow up knowing that emptiness as well… And it’s all because of us…” her voice broke. “Do you get that? Do you understand that our choices have real consequences?”
“...Yeah, I know…” Veronica mumbled.
“Then let’s be honest.” Plum pointed at the closed gate, “The orc waiting for you on the other side of that gate is Gilgard fucking Morrigan, the son of the Grand Warlord of the East.”
“I know who he is,” Veronica muttered.
“Then do you know how the Great House of Morrigan became the sole ruling family of Murkton? How House Morrigan managed to come on top of all the other vying war lords and mage lords? They achieved it through sheer fucking ruthlessness!”
“Yeah, I know,” Veronica frowned.
Plum tapped her forehead, “The Morrigans killed people! Do you really get that!? They killed people over and over until there was no one left who could oppose them! And they haven’t changed that belief in the last 300 years! Every Morrigan who has participated in the Great Cities Tourney has killed their defeated opponents. There isn’t any room for mercy in their minds!”
“So I just have to win, easy enough,” Veronica shrugged uncomfortably.
“Ugh!” Plum groaned in frustration. “You don’t get it! When you told me the real reason why you were participating in the tournament I supported you, but this isn’t some random mage! This is Gilgard! He’s the heir apparent of the most powerful and ruthless orc in the Ebon Realm!”
“No, you don’t get it. You weren’t born in a Named House! Where every moment of your childhood was dictated down to the very smallest moments. I was expected to-” Veronica caught herself and sighed, “I am expected to bring honor to my family. It is the way it has always been in the Ebon Realm. I don’t get to just back out of a fight because I’m scared. I don’t have the privilege to say I don’t want to fight. The protection of the people has always been on the shoulders of the Houses.”
“What does this have to do with the people!? You’re fighting for the entertainment of the crowds, not for their well-being!”
“I am fighting for my family’s honor. That honor is what keeps the people’s faith in us. My family has always protected me, it’s my turn, my duty, to protect them. I have already come this far, there is no backing out… even if it means I lose.”
Plum placed her hands on Veronica’s shoulders, “If you lose, you will die.”
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“I’m really hoping to avoid that last part,” she said weakly.
Plum’s hands trembled, “...How?”
Veronica tried to put on a brave smile, “Gumption, hehe.”
“Please tell me you have a plan,” Plum whispered.
“Don’t worry, the moment things are getting even a bit dangerous I’ll just surrender, simple as that. But until then I’ll give Gilgard a fight he won’t ever forget.”
Plum bit her lip, “He won’t give you the chance.”
“And from the southern gate, VERONICA SIENTIA OF UNDERGROWTH!!!” Mark Stemme announced from the herald’s tower.
“I’m up, wish me luck,” Veronica stepped away and went towards the gate.
Plum rushed up to her friend and hugged her tight. “May Stjerne bless you and your bow,” she whispered into her ear.
“Stjerne?” Veronica raised an eyebrow. “He abandoned us a thousand years ago.”
“Maybe so, but the Traveler blesses those brave enough to venture out into the most dangerous of quests. And right now you're the bravest person in this entire coliseum.”
“That has to be the nicest thing you’ve said to me,” Veronica grinned. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Just shut up and take the compliment.”
~~~
The crowds cheered as Veronica stepped out from the dark tunnel and into the arena under the bright sun. She waved at the common folk cheering throughout the crowds. Then she bowed to her parents who watched from their private stands, separated from the common folk.
Gilgard waited for her across the arena. Even from a distance, he cut an intimidating figure. He was tall, almost as tall as a dire. His black hair was cut short, about half an inch. He wore a short-sleeved black tunic that did little to hide the rippling muscles underneath. His red arms were covered in dark blue tattoos that weaved through his hands and up to his shoulders.
Gilgard Morrigan seemed every bit the vicious warrior Veronica imagined him to be, but there was one particular thing missing. He held no weapon in his hands nor on his belt.
Veronica narrowed her eyes, “Where is Feather?”
Gilgard raised his eyebrow, a glint of surprise in his amber eyes, “Feather?”
“Yeah, you know, a large greatsword made of bone,” Veronica said testily.
“I know what Feather is,” Gilgard said easily. “It is my father’s sword. So why would you think I’d have it?”
“A little birdie told me they saw some Morrigan guards carrying a large steel case box – about the size of Feather – into your lodgings when you arrived at the city. It’s a little strange, no? What would your guards be carrying in such a heavy and well-protected box?”
Gilgard shook his head and smiled faintly, “Ah, Thorn’s spies are as astute as ever.”
“I never mentioned the Thorns,” Veronica crossed her arms.
“You didn’t need to. And yes, you’re right. My father lent Feather to me for the tournament.”
“Then why don’t you have it? You don’t think you need it? You think so little of me?” Veronica glared.
“On the contrary, I think very highly of you,” Gilgard smiled warmly. “You’re as beautiful as you are skilled, and your skill truly is a cut above the rest.”
Veronica smirked, “Flirting on the battlefield? That doesn’t sound very warrior-like. Shouldn’t we be fighting already?”
“Can’t we do both? I heard it was you who created the potions that destroyed team Hollow Shade’s stone dome during the 2nd Challenge.”
“And what if it was?”
“It was quite an impressive explosion, not even that dire vampire could stop it. I admit I have looked forward to this match ever since I found out you were the one behind the explosion. There is no greater battle than one versus a worthy opponent.”
“And if I’m so worthy then why don’t you use Feather?”
“Because my father lent it to me,” he said calmly.
“...You’re weird.”
Gilgard laughed, “Maybe so, my sister definitely thinks me strange. Even so, I rather not use my father’s power to win.”
“You’d go against your House?” Veronica asked, surprised.
“No, I am a Morrigan and proud of it. My father isn’t the embodiment of my House, he is just a man, one who is too blind to see what truly matters in a House, it’s family. To him, all that matters is the power that family offers, not the people themselves. I guess you could say I’m here to prove him wrong.”
“I forgot, your father won the Tourney when he was our age, didn’t he? And he wielded Feather to do it…” Veronica recalled quietly. She giggled softly and then burst into loud laughter.
“What is it? Do you truly find me so strange?” he asked with a troubled smile.
“No, I was just thinking of how different you and I really are,” she wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. “You’re here to go against your father’s wishes, because you love your family, don’t you? Whereas I’m here because of my parents, so that I can bring honor to my House, even though I rather have nothing to do with my family.”
Veronica blinked, “Huh, I don't think I've ever said that last bit out loud.”
“You’re wrong,” Gilgard said confidently. “I don’t think we’re very different at all. I think you and I are more similar than you realize.”
Veronica chuckled under her breath and looked at her thin small frame and then up at Gilgard’s towering body. “Yeah, I don’t know about that.”
“Then you really haven’t been looking.”
“Looking for what?”
“You talk about your House’s honor and your familial duty, but you then tell me one thing that you personally want and you’re suddenly stunned because you’ve never even told it to anyone before until now, and to a complete stranger at that. I don’t think you’ve been looking, not really.”
Veronica frowned, “Looking for what exactly?”
“For what you want,” Gilgard said. “Because if you were, I’d wager you wouldn’t even be here.”
“Is that some elaborate way to get me to give up?” Veronica raised her bow and pulled out an arrow from her quiver, “Because it’s not going to work.”
“No,” Gilgard sighed. “I guess it’s my way of saying I wish we had met under very different circumstances.”
Veronica hesitated and looked at his troubled face. And for a brief moment, their eyes met and they saw one another for who they were.
Veronica shook her head and notched her arrow unto the bowstring, “...It’s too late.”
“Yeah… Yeah, I guess it is,” Gilgard whispered. He raised his arm in front of him, blue tendrils of lightning crackled at his fingertips.