Astor and Sigismund jumped with excitement: the solution to the mystery that enveloped the source of so much evil had finally come within their reach.
“Where are they now?” they both exclaimed. “I didn't notice any prisoners among your knights,” insisted Sigismund anxiously. “Your forces are much larger than mine, yet our horses would have sensed the stench and they would not have remained so docile during the night. Have them brought before us immediately, so we can interrogate them!” “Let my soldiers take care of it!” Astor suggested, trembling with anticipation.
“I would gladly accommodate your requests, my noble Lords, but unfortunately what you ask for is impossible for me to satisfy,” lamented Robuald.
“Are they prisoners in the East then?” Astor added.
“Oh, no! We never spare the enemies who attack us treacherously. My people do not build prisons, neither of stone nor of wood. We do not find it useful to lock up men whose arms can serve us. We use compassion towards loyal adversaries and exploit their strength to repair the damage they have caused. As for those who attack us without reason...” He didn't need to finish the sentence, as the same law applied to the kingdom of Sigismund and Astor. “This time, however,” Robuald continued, “we did not execute them. In fact, no one harmed them, except for what was necessary to take them alive.
Therefore, know that they were three individuals who were large and powerful, like the ones we defeated at the ford. They had probably advanced through our pastures, where they fell into a trap, the same trap we prepare for bears that approach the herds when the summer is dry and poor. So, we lifted them out of the pit that had welcomed them, and as long as they remained close, they continued to roar and drool as if they were actual bears, trying to bite their captors, wriggling, completely insensitive to every attempt to calm them down. But as soon as we managed to separate and hide them from each other, they calmed down, or rather, I should say they gave up. They fell as if they had fainted and instantly stopped making any noise. They did not react to any stimulus.
We were intrigued, so we reunited them and they immediately regained their previous aggression, writhing and roaring worse than before. We tried to communicate with them, but it seems that they do not know any form of language, apart from noises and growl. Hoping they would become more docile, we separated them again, trying everything to make them talk.”
“I would have given a lot to help you,” Astor lamented.
“Perhaps you couldn't have, valorous Astor,” continued Robuald, “given that within a few hours, after falling into that state of apparent delirium for a second time, all three of them died. Without a clear cause, they laid dead almost at the same time. Even today, I do not understand the reason.”
“It may be, instead, that I can deduce it,” and the tone of Sigismund’s voice was grim. He continued: “You surely remember, Astor, the ancestral story on which we worked with diligent effort as children. Do you recall the ancient texts? Do they not tell us that the Knights of the Realm of Time, after annihilating the assault launched by the crowd of the Lost Kingdom, were moved to pity for the very few survivors of their furious wrath and took them in, animated by the charitable intention of recovering them? They hoped to revive the ancient good, just as the enemy did with the sin. However, they did not reveal to be gifted with that power, and even if the prisoners had spontaneously accepted the offer, it would have been too late, since their voluntary adherence to wickedness was absolute, and their souls came out of it forever marked, misled and poisoned like the shapes in which they still dwelled. Unfortunately, they were not even allowed to try, since after a few days they fell into a deep but restless sleep, disturbed by nightmares that, I doubt, we can even imagine. Such was the horror awakened in those twisted minds that some of those outcasts rose, sleepwalking, and threw themselves against iron and rock, hoping that pain would awaken them, but in vain. The dominion could not be broken because the source was intact and those miserable ones had become slaves to it by their own will when they still could exercise it. Now, the master did not intend to allow them to repossess it to free themselves because he did not intend to lose them. Madness clouded their minds completely, and gripped by a restlessness more resistant than any chain, they soon ceased to be. Nothing could awaken them from unconsciousness, none of the remedies attempted by the Ancient Knights.
And so death arrived. Those bodies twisted and contorted in a final spasm, as if squeezed by some dark, invisible power of their last, residual life flows. Finally, only dust remained. That same dust that was preserved in the gleaming mirror urn in the Temple of our lost capital, as a perpetual warning for all generations to come. I tremble at the thought of the use and contempt that will be perpetrated on such poor remains. My wretched lost city.” Sigismund held back in silence for a few moments. He concluded, painfully: “The enemy's slaves, therefore, can only survive when they are confused and nullified in a headless swarm, devoted to the will of their master who controls them from unfathomable distances. None of his slaves can be a free individual, capable of determining different ends with personal will. Only in the multitude that carries delirium and destruction is he allowed to survive. Pity, for those who renounced the freedom of the soul!”.
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A feeble and warm breeze kidnapped and scattered those last words, numbing the minds, and donating a slight sway to the leaves. Some detached from the lower branches and spiralled slowly before settling on the ground without producing the slightest noise. It seemed that everything had been said, and there was very little left to do. Suddenly, Robuald, assaulted by an inner sense of discomfort and disgust, felt the deceitful duplicity gently introduced into the yielding atmosphere that had enveloped them evoked by that sinister report. Struggling to break free from that entanglement, he tried to shake himself by affirming vehemently: “More light has filtered from your account, Sigismund, to illuminate such dark events, but now, my friends and allies, we must put an end to any delay and decide where to direct our forces! To separate them seems madness to me.” Sigismund and Astor raised their heads, only to lower them again in a sign of agreement, without showing any more enthusiasm. Robuald insisted: “And it would be insane to stay any longer in this forest as well, so close to the occupied territory... The trees will not keep us from the disease that spreads while we linger. What to do, then? We are not sufficiently numerous to attack openly, although my joy would certainly not be inferior to yours if we could recover what has been lost together, but from what you have said, I gather that time has not yet come.”
As for me, I have achieved the goal I set for myself: the invader has been repulsed from my lands and beyond. I have gained essential knowledge about the nature of the threat that weighs upon us and, although I have lost many men, I have met as many today, ready to fight with us and endowed with greater caution and experience than ours.
Therefore, I urge you, come! Join us. Cross the borders of our domains, where you will be welcomed as long-lost brothers, since we speak the same language – albeit with a different accent, that allows us to understand each other –, we fight in the same way and believe in the same principles of courage and loyalty. We offer you that home that has been taken from you, and you, in return, will give us counsel and wisdom. It is not a refuge that I offer you: it is help that I ask for.”
The air had become still, and yet the leaves nearby seemed to tremble, as if shaken between two different currents. Robuald had done all he could, and, calming the fervor that had carried him away, but without abandoning hope, he added calmly: “But decide freely, and even if you choose to stay and fight in these lands, know that you will always be welcome in the free territories of the East, at least as long as they remain free.” As soon as he expressed his desire, he stood up and, imitated by his men, walked to the edge of the clearing where the horses had been gathered, to prepare for departure.
Astor and Sigismund remained silent and pensive. They gazed at the clouds passing over them peacefully, as if seeking advice from heaven, petrified by fear and the deep suffering revived by the many memories pressing on their hearts.
Their reunion had rekindled their expectations, but also reaffirmed the awareness that the Realm and the past were gone forever. Even if they managed to annihilate the enemy – which at the moment seemed unthinkable – no glory or victory could restore the loved ones they lost and the harmony of a place now devastated. For the first time, they tasted the bitter flavor of a certain, overwhelming, and irremediable defeat. And it seemed to them that death would have been less harsh, but the Code they followed did not allow them to seek it as a remedy for despair, even if achieved on the battlefield. Among all those relentlessly shattered ruins, only their creed remained firm, they felt it clearly! The enemy, despite all his excessive power, had failed to shatter it. In the abyss into which they had fallen, not even the sharpest impact could scratch it. It was intact, and if preserved, it would have been untouchable for him. «To preserve it and pass it on», it was a difficult but right path to follow. They looked at each other in unison, and their eyes were clouded by a thick veil of discouragement, but nevertheless, the strength of an invincible will shone clearly.
Sigismund was the first to rise, climbing onto a nearby rock that had watched the entire conversation with indifferent patience, waiting for those fleeting creatures to restore the age-old and blind stillness in which it stagnated. Drawing attention to himself by unsheathing his sword, he announced his choice: “Infantrymen with Impenetrable Armor and you, Knights with Historiated Blades, listen to me! Hear the one who, although unworthy, speaks to you in the name of the King and for Astor of Fort Unconquerable. Listen to me!” The agitation that had spread around them increased.
“Our hearts have been broken, yet we continue to march under the sun. I, for one, would prefer to rest next to my sovereign and all those I loved who are no longer here, but it has been decided otherwise. We were allowed to live so that we could continue to serve the Code that we have always honored. The life that has been spared to us is a privilege that we cannot reject. Otherwise, we would commit a crime more heinous than all the atrocities committed so far.
“Now is the time to forget. Forget everything. Everything that was and that we would have wished to continue to be. We must accept renunciation and store our memories in a locked and secret chamber in our souls, so to instantly recover the many forces consumed. To be reborn, to resume the march towards a new homeland.
“As you can see, we haven't been abandoned. Defeated, certainly, at least for now. But not lost! A new friend has been placed on our harsh journey, and I say to you: let's follow him!
“Let's follow him without further ado, before it is too late for us and for him who risks his own life and that of all his brave men, waiting for a decision that must not be delayed any further. In the history of our people, this is not the first time that we have been forced to give up goods and affections, but if we do not abandon our creed, we will not be abandoned by it, and soon we will be able to rebuild a civilization of peace and justice stronger than ever. And one day, perhaps not so far, we will regain all that we have lost and even more. Come on, men! Show me your response and then let's move towards the hope that this day points us to!” So ended Sigismund of Castle Nubilous, once a leader of many lances, and now a simple wandering knight.