20th of Coldborn, second month of 974:
After dismissing the messenger of the Duchess, Soral threw herself in the bed again.
“The fool, going on and on about the need to fight the enemy beyond the seas. They are the enemy!! And what is that foolishness about thirty thousand pirates invading our shores?! Gods….”
“I’m sure he knows nothing, Lady Ashen. Another body whose blood will tint the snows near enough is what he is.” Hailing, Andras continued after nodding to the Paladin of Zun tending Soral, “If I am allowed to leave, the army needs to be ready to start marching tomorrow morning. The night is not eternal, after all.”
Gesturing, Soral released him, dejected. ‘Of course he would be cold, for Nether’s sake, I poisoned one of his old friends. Why was I such a mor….’ The opening of the door interrupting her thoughts, she watched as Sorak almost collided with Andras, who had kept going forward.
“He, hey!” Tried to start Sorak, not that Andras stopped. “Elenia’s boots!” Turning to her as if she had located a new target for her ire, he started, “And you! What in the whole Pantheon were you planning?!”
“The Duchess told me he was planning….”
“And you cannot think for yourself Lady Soral?! Are you a puppet, a tool, an oaf who only knows how to follow directions!? That does not excuse trying to murder your brother!”
“The, the missives, I got, I still got them on my desk! In the area with an illusion spell!” Soral tried to quell her ire, fully knowing nothing that she could say would change anything. Sorak was right, she had been a tool and a fool. Looking back, their content had been changing between them. Some were too friendly, others too distant and bossy. Not that she had realised in her bubble of new found alliances.
Another hammer struck from another direction as Sorak found nothing. While Soral started to panic, making the Paladin try to calm her down, Sorak clenched her fists. ‘That damned Monster. That vampire has been lurking around the palace since, since when?!’ A memory of the new maid recruited briefly crossed her mind.
“Does not matter. That excuses nothing still! Soral, we will have a serious conversation, later. Now we need to try and get the Empire on our side as quickly as we are able to.”
“And how can we ask for reinforcements from the Empire?! We have nothing! No proof, no missives, no nothing! I swear I put them there!!” Sorak found herself unable to say anything, as she saw Soral fight with the paladin to get up and search for them herself. After knowing the enemy forces from Soral, the future looked bleak without Imperial Support.
Still, a cold and calm voice speaking up interrupted them, even if a bit shaken with the movements of its patient.
“Pardon me if I am speaking out of turn but, don’t thirty thousand seem already a number the North may not be able to reliably defend against? Their plot may very well help us here.” Said the Paladin.
“Ri, right! Of course! We can use Albestus’ connections to speed up the request for military help!” Seeing a light of hope, Soral started to quiet down.
The hateful gaze of Sorak didn’t leave the undead, another unresolved problem of hers. While she knew they were Noct’s that did little to calm down her hate. ‘Now I see how Noct could protect the city and clear the county from bandits and deserters with the lax men at arms and null conscriptions we had. He already had a loyal army to his name.’ Starting to feel a prisoner in the city. She hailed and left.
Once she closed the door, she rested her back against the wall.
…………………
Soral felt a bit more of hope, only for it to quickly dim as the reality she was in returned to her brain. He had been planning for his eventual death, preparing and finishing leftover things; securing her position, updating all that needed it, securing loyal vassals,.... And she had chosen to poison him a month before while thinking about what dress he would make for her Coming of Age ceremony. ‘When did I turn into such a self centred monster?’
“Should a criminal like me even be here?” The sound escaped from her lips, loud enough to be heard.
“What is it that makes a criminal one?” Offhandedly asked the Paladin, as it cleaned the handkerchief it had used to wipe her sweat.
Jumping a bit, as she had not expected the question, hastily answered by the book, “A trial in which they are found guilty?”
“And from who?”
“From the noble in charge or elected officials pointed by their hand?” Relaxing a bit with the distraction, Soral played along.
“And that, what does it make you, Lady Ashen? Noct already passed judgement, finding you innocent. By your words you are no criminal.” Declared the Paladin.
“But what I did was evil and harmful! A mockery of a sister is what I am!”
The beginning of a smirk could be seen in the way the Paladin turned towards her, his full armour leaving much for imagination.
“And, if I may ask a dumb question, what defines evil?”
Soral now had to pause. ‘Severity? No, where would I even draw the line. Consequences? No, it would be the same thing….’ After a few seconds, she asked more than answer, “....Willingness?”
“Ooo, not the answer I expected but a good one. Yes. Willingness to do wrong, to sin. You could even say that the degree is proportional to the type of crime. But, if I kill someone in a heartbeat, and you take a day of mentally preparing yourself because you lack my unfeeling nature, does it matter to the action itself? The person is still dead. No,“ Shaking its head, it continued, “I prefer to define it by ‘intent’.”
“Intent?”
“Yes. What it is that you wanted to achieve with the wrong you partook of. Is it the same to steal for greed than to steal to feed an hungry kid or to save a sick mother? Is it the same to kill for pleasure than to kill a killer before he can do his dirty job? No, no I do say.” His voice gaining power, “Why did you want to kill your brother, Lady Ashen, was it for power, for money? Nay, I know it wasn’t. It was for the future of your vassals. Maybe a missguided choice lacking complete understanding of the situation, but a heartfelt one nonetheless.”
“But!...”
“And I’m sure Noct saw it the same way. There’s nothing more noble than acting upon the belief of protecting something we love! But we have to beware, less we destroy what we wanted to secure by acting too hastily.”
“It does not excuse anything!” Screamed Soral.
The illusionary smirk now a warm smile, the undead paladin slowly nodded. “Indeed. Intent does not negate the action. Your brother would have still been dead, even if you had protected your home and vassals. Can it truly be called a good deed when it was but the evil act of killing? Can it really serve as an excuse for the damage caused? Does acting upon the namesake of goodness redeem you of the evils you committed for that very sake?”
“.....”
Softly resting a gauntlet on her shoulder, it continued, “Your doubts and regrets of now are your teachers…You have the qualities we search in our faithful, the ability to see and admit one's wrongs, the will to improve oneself and not be deluded by the ghost of pride. I am sure that these last months, stumbling in the dark and entangled in the weeb that the ‘Hands’ had entrapped you in, you kept doubting yourself. It is enough, child, everyone can err. Learn from today.”
“....can I really be forgiven?”
“That’s not for us to decide, but for the wronged people. You can work harder to gain back their favour, to rebuild the trust that you broke, but never forget it is their choice, for it is upon them that you casted injury.” Warmness filling its gaze, it continued, “But I myself will not worry, you are a fine kid. I am sure you will show them you learnt your lesson. If I may add, trust the people you love and like, not some distant authority figure, they will help you achieve what you wanted.”
Drying up a few silent tears, Soral asked, “Co-Could you tell me your name?”
Looking at the side and scratching its head, it answered, “Well, believe it or not, I am fairly young, so I have none. Still, I think Paladin is already enough.”
“What? Why?” Asked Soral, now calm but confused.
Looking out the window, it gently explained itself, “The word Paladin is the ideal of justice and fairness. How could it not be enough? They fight for what is just, no matter the odds; they listen to the weak, the casted aside, to their enemies even, and they always lend a hand. No matter how far you have fallen, no matter how low, how reproachable you were, how many you did hurt, there’s always another chance for you to get back on your feet. They are always that hand that stays within reach. The sword of the unheard, the shield of the ones who cannot protect themselves. A light in the dark shining for everyone to see, a shadow of rest for the weary, a rock for everyone to hold onto”
“‘Why cut the hand of a thief? They need it to survive!’ They would scream and hurry to protect the criminal, helping them find an honourable job….” His gaze lost in the night sky, it finished, “Personally, I do not think it fits me. I am undeserving of the title. I still hate those who harass me, I still hold bias towards others. I know too little of the world at large to truly judge a situation. ‘Am I doing the right thing?’ is a question I have grown tired of asking myself…. Frankly, I do not deserve it for I am too small of a sapient to fit in it. Nonetheless, I will do my best upon bests to uphold it, until I can become one in fairness, until I can grow into it.” Looking back at her, it ended with, “See? We all stumble in the dark or under the light, we all doubt.”
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
Smiling, Soral mumbled, now low enough to not be heard, “What are you, a kid? Straigh out of the fairy tales my brother used to tell me.”
……………….
Sorak didn’t know when she had unclenched her fists. She had not intended to eavesdrop, and saying that she had just been trying to assure herself of Soral’s safety would have been an excuse. ‘Can an undead be so idealistic?....Wait, idealistic? When has that turned away from reality and into an unreachable ideal?’
Leaving the wall, she started to walk away from there, mulling her thoughts. Shaking her head, she laughed at herself. Never had she imagined she would get preached on her ideals by a monster with less than half her age, she deduced. ‘If I keep this up I will be unable to keep hating that old church’s witch. Did I go so astray that I have fallen into the evils I once loathed in our church? To follow the rules like a mindless machine? To stop trying to do better?....Everyone doubts, huh, everyone can err,...’.
As if fate had led her steeps, she had arrived at the guests' rooms as Noct was limping along the hallway, glued to the wall.
“My Lord!” Rushing to his aid, she found a hate filled gaze that stopped her in her tracks.
“High Paladin, I was searching for you.”
“What for?”
“I will act as if you remember the Sacrament we made. I need you to act on it. Unlike my sister’s, your’s has a limitation that I cannot abide by. I must march to war, and I cannot do so.” Tiredness coming to his voice, “Accompany me to my room.” Said as he turned around and started to slowly walk, now away from the wall.
Sorak, after a few seconds, followed suit.
The sound of yet another door closing, she stood as Noct sat on his bed.
‘Why had I acted as if his fate was already over? If there’s a good heretic, they don’t get hunted out because they are not found! Nobody that does no harm is called for questioning! Why have I acted as if Noct’s past actions had never existed?....Albestus was right, Noct did not change, what did was my label of him….I never took myself for such an arrogant and superficial woman.’
“Now that we are in a private space, you can start your judgement. Better on your hands than on my sister’s, I do not want her to become a killer yet, she is far too young.”
“My, my lord? I do not follow?” Those words were not clicking in Sorak’s mind.
“Our Magic Vows, High Paladin. The ones I did with you in Albestus’ studio! I swore to face your judgement on Soral’s ‘Coming of Age’, but there’s still a month until it happens! I. Cannot. Move. From. Here.” His words becoming more ragged as he pushed his injured body to its limits, “A Regent that cannot march to war is a disgrace that will lower our morale and will increase the barony’s discontent! So, we will play around with the wording; I said I would wait for you, so, If you cast your judgement now, it would still be completed. Not that it will matter.” His gaze pierced her to the core, betrayal was a good combustible for hate after all. Not that Noct knew it wasn’t fair, but feelings aren’t ruled by logic and clever reasoning.
“Do your worst, High Paladin.” The resolution in his gaze was only equal to the ire in them.
“By word of Soral without a Surname, High Paladin of Elenia, I absolve you, Noct of the Ashen, and bestow no punishment upon you.”
Light shining in Noct’s hand, Sacrament slowly comes undone.
“You…what?!”
“I forgive you, m’Lord.”
“That is not a right you have!!” Blew up Noct. He rose up and grabbed her chestplate, trying to raise her in the air but falling. ”Do what you have to do and begone with these jokes!”
“I have done what I had to. I am giving you a second time….And I should apologise for my lack of trust.” Said Sorak, unmoving.
Noct stood for a few seconds, “Second chance? A second chance?!? You have no say in if I get a second chance, Sorak!!” His eyes revealing his mind was in the battles of the past, as the upcoming was had brought those memories to the surface, “Where is their second chance?! The second chance of the men I murdered?! The second chance of the kids I burned alive?! Where was your second chance when they needed it?! I should not be here! I do not deserve to be here! Do your duty already, you cowardly rodent!”
The thump of iron hitting stone and another of hand hitting check resounded in the room. Sorak, hiding his guilt and anger behind a mocking smirk, said, “If it’s for self satisfaction then I will do it even less. You want someone to curse you and free you? Do it yourself, for I am done here.” Picking her gauntlet from the ground, she walked to the door, opened it and, without looking back, said, “What would those victims, of whom you preach about doing this, think of you being freed of your pain?” She closed the door, leaving Noct to his pain, both bodily and mentally.
'War is a poison that does not go away, Where was I? Huh, so you had come to trust me that much?.’ Meditated Sorak on her way, the traumatised look on Noct’s eyes followed inside her mind. ‘Regretting it to this extent will only eat you alive….I guess you have been doing that since day one.’
………….
Doing his best to stand on his two legs without wavering, Noct stood next to High Commanded Andras, who was riding a War Horse, waiting for their men at arms to line up.
Under the watchful eyes of almost six hundred men, he stepped forward. His steel boots reigning in and paving the way to absolute silence in the area at the front of the western gate. He wore his unusual full body armour, with an uncanny likeness to a paladin's armour, but in black and full of small crevices and small spikes, giving way to countless plays of shadows in the junctures and weak points of the armour as well as upping the tenebrous look of the armour. Lastly, his helmet completely hid his head from view, doubling down on the terrifying view, even if the sunrise was illuminating them with pure lights.
“Men. We march to war, and a lot of us may not come back. Those who don’t feel ready to die, turn back. This will be the last warning.”
The crowd of soldiers stirred up a bit, a few soldiers tried to do as he said, moving forward and dropping their weapons. Before they could let go of them, Noct’s imposing figure stopped them with a gesture.
“Take them with you. You will need something to defend your family if our army fails to stop the pirate menace.” His eyes scanning his army, he dramatically sighed and continued, “I guess their savagery has left the common mind, that being the reason I believe you are misjudging the situation.” His voice now roared over the plains.
“If we lose, the north burns. And it won’t only be ‘that north’ or the far west north, no.” Raising his fingers, he pointed at one of the deserters. ”It will be yours.” His finger now dancing over the faces of the group, “Your city, your village, your family, your daughter. They take no prisoners, yes, in battle. Do you know what is not a battlefield? Your looted home, house to your and your son corpses bleeding out while they scourge everything you held dear. It’s an islands’ army, those should be enough words to understand your situation, but I was wrong. My apologies.”
Turning his gaze back to the deserters, who had started to pale, he added, “I should be giving you more help, but the war economy doesn't grant me the luxury.” His head looking back up, “Those who are ready to become the shield of their dearest people, even if it means them living on thanks to your honourable sacrifice, listen up. High Commander Andras will brief you on the situation.”
The deserters now slowly went back to their post, more thanks to the gaze of their comrades than for personal reasons, Andras rode forward, staying two steps behind his Lord.
“As you can see, we will be all that will be sent. Levies will not be marching together with us. We are fighting veteran soldiers and they would only be cut down like grass. You catch what that means? We are considering you, yes, you lot, our best hope. You have endured half a year of my training. It may be but a drop in the buckle if you compare it to the knight's training, but you have discipline and know what a damned formation is. Listen to your commanders, listen to me, will yourselves, and we will get out alive.” His voice making them stand prouder, memories from the training sessions flashing by, “Remember, good soldiers follow orders,“ Side eyeing the deserters, “Bad soldiers get us all killed when they break the formation. I do not care if it’s a man in a pyjamas, a cavalryman, a woolly mammoth or Karax, God of Bravery, itself who is charging at yourselves at the ‘To the nether with you’ speed. You stand your ground with your fellow men or you get stabbed by those same men.”
Nodding, he sat taller in his saddler, “The plan for now is simple, your dogs would be able to follow it and refuse a treat after for its sheer easiness. We march towards our Countess main city, ‘Ice Garden’, we rendezvous with our fellow men at arms from other baronies, and we will be temporarily put under her Countess Simil’s chosen High Commander command until we arrive at ‘Frozen Baia’, the west coast of the Empire.”
His voice booming, “You men got an hour. If you left anything up in the air, do it now. Recheck your equipment, your personal provisions, everything you care about and, once you are ready, you may choose to leave your equipment in our supplies convoy. We will have an empty car for that purpose. Dismissed.”
The crowd quickly parted. Andras got off his horse and discretely asked Noct, “Why let them have an hour. Some will now have the opportunity to abandon ship.”
Shrugging, Noct retorted, “It is their right. To be honest, I would rather trust our soldiers than fear for holes in our lines.”
Shaking his head, “That will impact morale.”
“Raise it again.”
Rejecting the notion of choking his lord, he changed the subject, worry filling his eyes. “Will you be alright?”
“I must and I will. I am one of the three combat mages we have got. Fillers will amount to nothing if we lose a third of our combat potential.”
“Even with you here, do we have a realistic hope of winning?”
“I fear I am sending more than half a thousand men to die in ditches and snow and get cursed by Elenia.”
Laughing, Andras patted Noct in the back, “Just like in the old times.”
“Them being old doesn’t mean they were good.”
“Someday, someday you will be something more than a fun killer to be around and you will get a spouse.”
“And someday you will shut up and make the world a smarter place.”
……………….
“Lantraz. I refuse. I won’t send any of you to die for a war you have no stakes nor fault in it.”
“Then we will follow you in the shadows. Three thousand, six hundred and twenty three skeletons you created have vowed to fight and face oblivion at your side.”
“And I am ordering you to live!!” Snapped Noct.
“And we will refuse.” Lantraz didn’t bend. “Eve has already decided to follow you, leaving four of her sisters to safeguard Soral, to her greatest dismay, and I won’t stay put.”
Emanating fury from every portion of his body, a resting Noct demanded, “Lantraz, I will not have you become murderers! Do not make me use necromancy to make you obey.”
Sadness coming to Lantraz’s voice, it muttered, “When will we prove our worth, our right to stand beneath the sun? If today we do not take action, when will we have our chance?”
Confusion calming down Noct, “You have to prove nothing, Lantraz! Being alive is enough to deserve living!”
“I know, Noct.” Hardness and resentment surfacing in its tone, “For you it is enough. But the world isn’t just. You will never find us a home if we are hunted for what we are, m’Lord. Maybe, and only maybe, we will be able to….”
“No. You are right, the world is unjust. But you are underestimating it. For now, only my closest aides know of you, and that secret has almost cost me my life. Lantraz, Do not participate.” It had been a while since he had spoken in the language of the undead, but it came to him as naturally as breathing.
“Do n. I….will….obey!!” Lantraz tried to resist the command, but it was a task above and beyond what a simple skeleton could achieve, bending to the will of his master.
……………….