22th of Firstleaf, third month of 984
‘“I entrust to you your siblings Kal.”
“Thanked be the Gods that Kal is with you. You two have the impulse control of a snail. How could you think this was a g…”
“Good job, Kal. I knew you were the right man for the job.”
“Kal! Cover your siblings with illusion magic! I will…”’
‘Trust, huh. You never trusted me. You proved it today. Empty words. You were, are, the same as the rest of you. You feared us the same.’
“K….Kal?” Said Lantraz, not knowing what to follow it with as it grabbed Eve.
Kal glare turned stone cold and fell on Lantraz. “Let’s go, brother. To the End, lands unused, free. A country, a home for us and us alone.”
Lantraz’s confused look was enough to heaten up Kal’s voice. “Why are you doubting?”
“Why? The question is what I am doubting! Kal, did you hit your skull somewhere?”
The stupid question almost made Kal blast it with magic. Dispelling the spell that it had started to form, it added. “Do you not realise what happened now? What does it mean?”
“Our Lord gave us an order?”
“An order? An order?! He commanded our own beings with slave magic!! The same as one would do with zombies and common skeletons!! It means that he has always had us on a leash! No matter how light, no matter how invisible. He never trusted us!! He feared us and he has had since our very creations!! All of our relationships were fake, an illusion!!”
“What are you spouting?” Thinking Lantraz was getting angry at Noct, Kal continued.
“He did never dispel the necromantic spell that binds us to him!! That along is r…”
“Of course he would have us on a leash!!” Lantraz yelled, “We were but kids with enough power to kill anything that crossed our paths. We were just normal undead that could have turned to travel to the surface and mimic our fellows. Not having countermeasures in place would have been the edge of foolishness!!”
Kal gestured outwards with its left hand and counteryelled, “How can you still defend him even after knowing the truth!?”
“Because I have known it since aeons ago!!”
Taken aback, Kal looked at Lantraz as if it was seeing a strange lifeform.
Calming down, Lantraz softly spoke, “If you talked with our necromancer siblings you would know we do the same with our new ranks. Could a puppet exist without strings? That's what we were, at least in our beginnings.” Lantraz let out a sad laugh. “And you were always called the smart one.”
Grasping into the air, Kal retorted, “Then why didn’t he cancel it after we grew up?!”
“Because he was afraid.” Before Kal could start the debate again, Lantraz added in unequivocal terms. “Not of us doing something rash, but of us leaving him.” Lantraz tone growing colder, it added, “You both may not have noticed, as you have put Noct on a pedestal but, when he made us, he was almost willing to let himself go. We were his last try at making a refuge, a safe place. He is neither strong nor brave. He is another sapient, like you and me. He doubts and fears. I am sure he always excused it as ‘I will do it tomorrow.’ or as “If I do not act on it it doesn’t exist.”. And it doesn’t bother me one bit because, and you have already noticed it yourself, when it really mattered he did what he had to do without doubts. He saved us and broke his lifeline without doubting, not being sure we wouldn’t turn evil. That is trust.”
Lantraz shaked its head and added, “Lastly, you may have been trustworthy but, what about Eve? She was an even worse loose cannon back then” That statement stabbed Kal. Noct had never betrayed them. It and Eve, on the other hand… “To tell you the truth, I was starting to get tired of this arrangement, yes. Still, even when we went directly against his orders he did not command us anything. It was hurtful, to be fair, but it was never his intention. Call it a desperate meat bag holding onto a hope. We were his hope, his last home. And on that I can take pride.”
“Having said all of this, do you really believe everything was fake? That the trust he placed on you, on us, was fake? The alchemy laboratory he made for you? My enchanted weapon and armour? Eve’s very own body? These are things we could have used to harm what we wanted with. And he gifted them to us.” Approaching Kal and giving it a hug, it ended with, “You really are not as smart as you appear, huh?”
“I-I am…”
“No need.”
………..
Andras dressed himself. The bags under his eyes were testimony to the horrible last nights he had been having. The armour felt too heavy for him, weighing on his shoulders and making them drop. It could also be the guilt. He still saw that look, frozen solid in his mind. ‘He did the same to me. Why should I be the one who can’t sleep!? I should be able to do this! I am protecting my daughter!! I was the one who was betrayed first! Call it payback and let me rest in peace!’ No matter how much he repeated these words, they did little to clear the shadows of doubts.
‘“So this was planned beforehand? And you just accepted?!” Samil accused.
“It was the only way. I tried to disagree with Noct but he took no no for an answer.”
Samil fell silent and looked keenly at her father. After a few seconds she looked like she had surrendered and added, “That was the same thing that High Commander Kraus said. I can’t believe he threatened me again.”
Biting his lips, Andras said, “It’s the only way he knows how to convi…”
A slap resounded in their tent. “You do not know how to lie.” After those last words, Samil had left the tent.’
Shaking his head, he breathed in and stepped outside. Two hundred men. That was what remained. On transit to Bonfire, they had already left behind the army of their countess. After all, there was no glory for them here. The Marquess' army had taken all prisoners to cart them to the capital. Maybe they would congratulate their Lady, but nothing would go to the soldier. Only memories.
Andras walked with the most courage and pride he could muster outwardly. Half had already decided to leave the army once they returned. He could not blame them. Most had been green, most had seen the friends they had signed up with die dog’s deaths. And what had the barony of Alpin won? Its battle mages had perished, a lot of gold had been spent and they had lost their best magic binder. And they had been the least punished for their countess had lost two and a half thirds of their forces. Even more, dark news from the rebelled counties revealed that the pirates had started to pillage their old allies.
His gaze wandered around, searching for the tenth time for a daughter he was not sure he should talk to. He had used her as an excuse to gaslight her. She hated when he lied. Misguided anger flared again, ‘If only Noct had shared his plans like he did to Kraus. If only he had spoken sooner. Bastard!’. His face making a grimace, he did not notice the dwarf and elf nearby.
“Well. Damned be Eclair,“ Started Likos, taking a sip from his water skin, “Itmas was right. Well, not that right, but I still owe him money. The damn bird is going to die of laughter.” He shaked his head.
“Not our problem anymore. No use dwelling on it.” Lia caressed her head and continued. “We get back, we get paid and we drink to forget this ever happened.”
“Ayeh, I could do that.” Looking back with a bit of nostalgia, he added, “I always knew Lord Noct had too many aces below his sleeve.”
“Care with the tongue. He is no lord now.” Warned Lia.
“There are no Inquisition bastards here nor would any of us speak up to them.” Buffed Likos as he started to dabble in the ashes of the campfire with a half burnt stick.
“I would.” Coldly retorted Lia.
“Long ears, take it or leave it, for I know my words had no weight. We are alive thanks to that heretic. You and I owe him twice.” Likos raised again, not wanting to argue about his less religious ways. “Get up already, we will start marching soon.”
Lia didn’t bother to hide her scowl as she picked up her last possessions.
…
‘If I hadn’t come, would Noct be leading this army back home?’ Samil thought as she walked between her fellow soldiers. A fellow man at arms. She had proven herself worthy enough of the title. She was already regretting not jumping to help Noct defend his innocence for, how could he be a necromancer? If anything, he was a summoner. No heretic uses their powers to help the Empire. A weak excuse, but her mind needed little else. She believed it had been unjust and her ideals had rallied behind the sweet lie.
‘If father hadn’t been here…’ Bittersweet feelings assaulting her, she focused on walking upright, for she was still sore from the bruisers and effort. She understood her father had forsaken his lord for her. Nonetheless, she was an adult woman and she could make her own decisions. That gaze filled with fear and worry had been foul play. ‘I am sure the Empire will recognize his efforts.’ Another weak lie, one that was already shaking as she remembered how they had ‘secured’ him. But she could do little more than pray.
‘Only five days until we reach Bonfire.’
……….
“I do not care for your reasons, Kraus.” Continued Maliz. “You overruled my command, my position, my rightful birthright and everything you swore to maintain as my High Commander to not only betray and silence your lady but to betray the person she had entrusted command to as well.”
Kraus simply remained kneeling, silently.
Maliz crushed the glass cup she had been contemplating and, ignoring the pain and the blood that had started to fall from her wounds, added, “I expect you are ready to be dismissed after we arrive at Ice Garden. Together with a trial for insubordination.”
After waiting for a few seconds, she snapped, “Can you speak up or should I execute you this instant, Kraus!?”
“And what should I say, my lady?” Calmly stated Kraus, “What you accuse me of is what has transpired.”
Maliz caressed her head and, not minding the stickiness of her blood, asked, “Can you tell me why you did not bother to consult with me?”
“You wouldn’t have agreed,”
“That is a given!” She rose from her luxurious chair in anger, “Was I mistaken at thinking you as a cunning strategist? The only reason why we got out of there alive was because the Inquisitor was too busy licking his greedy lips to even remember us! No amount of theatre was going to save us! Not when the necromancer in question had over two thousand undead under his wing!! Are men utterly incapable of not conceiving anything that is not a last stand or a senseless self sacrifice as a valid plan!?”
Taken aback by her reasonable words, he listened more intently.
“Do you think of me that I am that high of a sheltered lady as to not see when twenty archers aim at my back! It took all of my upbringing to not laugh out loud at the mere dumbness of it! And do not let me start with supposing that the Inquisition would be so nice as to leave witnesses alive. That Marc is either too cunning or a complete and utter fool…” Her mind assessed the new branch of thought, “....maybe it was a plot to further weaken the marquess….No, later.” Returning to the matter at hand, “Kraus, I ask of you. You are a competent commander, why did you agree?”
Shamed, Kraus lowered his tone, “Well, in the heat of the moment it seemed like our only option. I didn’t know you had been devising a plan, I apologise for acting on my own, my lady.” Looking at the ground, he didn’t see how his lady froze in realisation. She had had no plan either. ‘Damn me, maybe that dumb plan helped out more than I thought. Even if it only made that bastard subestimate the risk we could be.’
“At the start I opposed him. He went on his knees. Nobility, begging to a commoner?” Kraus’ voice returned to a normal tone but his gaze was proud, “Preposterous, and he did it anyway. Not for himself. For us. He dumped his pride on the ground to try and save our lives, no matter how futile the action could have been.” Kraus’ voice gained weight, “He said we could be saved. Yes. I sold my pride as a knight, my position as a High Commander and even my loyalty to a desperate ploy. However, he acted with honour and he saved my“ ‘yours.’ ”life. I couldn’t refuse.”
Maliz cursed and grabbed a handkerchief to stop her bleeding. “As I said, baboons with only muscles in the head. So your solution to such bravery and honour was to betray him under his direct orders?”
“Yes.”
Maliz’s left eyebrow twitched. “I see. So now you are no longer a knight, nor a high commander and not my vassal I take?”
“I do not deserve it, yes. I forsook the qualities needed to be good enough.”
“So be it. Criminal Kraus, I am hiring you.” A dark smirk came to Maliz’s lips.
“Wh…what?”
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“Once you are disbanded from my army, I want you to act as my crow. You will send some missives to the Ashen Household. You shall have a false employment as a High Commander.”
“My, my lady?”
“You are dismissed. I will contact you at a later time. And, in case a warning is needed, should I remind your decomposed brain what happens to criminals who speak too much?”
Kraus shuddered and shook his head.
“Great. Return to your post, High Commander.”
Once Kraus left she looked to the table and searched for a quill. ‘The Rousekeepers always pay their debts.’
…………..
Marquess Trilus marched ahead of his army. The battle had been an outstanding success and the rebellion would be over before two months had passed. Not that the small pride of that achievement mattered, for the engagement had been against peasants and only the flanks had taken casualties in a drastic manner. For his army it had been a field exercise, nothing to be proud of.
Higher Commander Jess noticed his struggle and, mistaking it, asked, “Do you have a plan to confront the Empress?”
“It won’t be needed. They have been waiting years for an excuse to destroy our title and return our lands. That will be my punishment. After all, I am sure Marc was in the smear campaign. The whole ‘engaging with heretics’ will only create the perfect reason.” Shrugged Trilus.
Jess looked around and retorted, “Are you that sure? This time is not a normal warlock hunt.”
“They never are. This one is as common as it gets. Well, the numbers have a few too many zeroes to the right but it isn’t that relevant. No liches in this one after all.”
“Li-liches?” Jess paled a bit.
Trilus shrugged and said, “Confidential.”
“I-I see.”
“Still,” Trilus looked back and hesitation showered in his eyes, “They still haven’t changed their methods?” A shudder overtook his defences.
Jess looked at the front. “They are criminals.” She said in a cold tone.
“They all are, but only one is riding a horse.”
Jess stopped talking.
Looking at where the prisoners were being escorted and, as Trilus had admitted, only one had access to a horse. Duchess Larra was not the one.
That said, she was dressed as a noble of her position. She wasn’t handcuffed and, if she got tired of walking, she could ride her own carriage. The rest of the rebelled countesses had to share, two on two, the carriages. The baronesses travelled on the same. They had warm food and some liberty to walk around the army. Larra had been allowed two servants.
Nonetheless, everytime she locked right a string of words reinforced themselves in her mind. ‘This Empire is rotten to the core.’
To her left was none other than the prisoner who had been graciously gifted a horse. Noct was pulled by the already talked horse by an enchanted rope tied to his arms. His back jumped and collided against the ground as the friction opened wounds, wounds that a newly stabbed green dagger cured as they happened. This healing magic didn’t dislodge the rocks that were fixed in her flesh as his skin healed around them causing them to dig deeper into his back as his body collided against the ground. The orange dagger was still stabbed on his shoulder, shining light onto a slave collar filled to the brim with ‘black rock’, a material that could store great quantities of mana.
His mouth sewed shut and his eyes covered with a blindfold, he could only weakly grunt as the horse continued its journey.
The man that had bested her army and caused her army to surrender was being treated worse than the False Queen that had caused almost forty thousand deaths in military casualties only. But, if anything she should thank him for is that anger was tainting her regrets and guilt, letting her sleep better.
……….
Moonhide was walking towards their workplace to inform Gemebs of the state of the hunting grounds. ‘Smart but too hardworking. Greenskin should learn that rest is a duty too. We are no ant.’ The ritual of, Coming of Age?, had taken him by surprise. It had been boring until the softskins had started to panic over some smoke. He did not understand the chaos and accusations he heard every time he entered the city. Still, the gazes told him to be careful. Agitated softskins tended to be…unpredictable.
Smelling danger and greed, he stopped in his tracks. He had become used to it as more ironskins showed up in the palace with their flaming swords. Regardless, the sheer intensity revealed that something was not right. Adjusting his position, he rushed on all of his fours, cleaving grooves on the stone ground.
It was a dangerous bet. He had been kicked from human caves for far less. They were always scared of him and he had seen brothers being put down for expressing anger. They were not allowed to be themselves, for they were inhuman enough when they were as non threatening as possible. Still, his instincts were screaming, and he was one to trust.
Reaching the source of the smell, he arrived at his alpha’s resting ground. Something wasn’t right, the two ironskins defending its entrance were unperturbed by the feared dangers that lurked inside.
“Get our beast. Our lady is currently in a meeting.” The words reeked of lies. Moonhide growled at the paladins until they heard a scream from inside.
Moonhide moved first and his punch dented the shield of the left paladin, the force pushing him against the wall. The wolfman proceeded to jump backwards, evading the flaming sword that cut deep into the cold stone of the wall. Not making smoke nor sound, those claws always unsettled him.
“This is for the good of the bar…” Before he could end his sentence, Moonhide took the created gap in the defences of the right paladin and tore his throat with his claws.
A sharp pain made him howl in pain as the smell of burnt hair and flesh reached its nose, coming from his left side, making him retreat. Another surprise, the sound of a small explosion, made his ears ring and caused him to fall backwards. The paladin, who had tried to press his advantage, also tripped, his helmet dented on the back side. Another small explosion ringed out and the paladin fell down, confused and with a slight concussion. Moonhide pushed his own weakness aside and quickly creeped on top of the paladin.
A small tug and he launched the flaming claw out of the paladin. Following that, he pushed his weak attempts to push him away and his fangs found the squishy flesh below the uncountable small rings of metal that protected its throat. His mind filling with red and both the warm and taste of blood, he kicked his hunting instincts aside.
Raising up, he saw Gemebs the greenskin with one of those steel sticks. Not addressing him he charged the door.
…
Soral was sitting on her desk, rereading the spell book her brother had gifted her. She was still surprised that he had enchanted her with defences she hadn’t yet outed. Shaking her head she looked at the dagger in her desk.
She had little time for surprise, for a stab on her back crashed against the first of those enchantments. The sound of magic barriers being broken told her the situation she was in. Grabbing the dagger and jumping out of the chair, she screamed as loudly as she could, trusting in the paladins guarding her.
A kick in the back caused her to roll even more and, hitting the wall, she tried to raise, only to to launch herself onto the ground, evading a stab from a short blue fired sword that embedded itself in the wall behind.
Choosing to fight, she tried to stab the leg of the aggressor but a kick in her left temple caused her vision to blur. The sound of something crashing through the window and an armour being pierced reached her ears as a rain of crystal shards fell on her.
Looking up, a creepily armoured humanoid was fighting against the assassin as its chest burned in blue fire.
“We were righ…!” Screamed the assassin before the figure beheaded him with a coordinate strike with its two sickles.
The humanoid turned to look at her, revealing two green lights in where eyes should be and quickly falling against the left wall. The door was broken open and Moonhide dashed in, claws out.
The undead muttered, unnerved, “That damned order almost caused my mission to fail.”
Soral got up and, preparing healing magic, approached the undead to try and heal it, not realising the damage was too great, as the blue fires were already dying out after finishing their job. “Hold on. I won’t let you die after saving me!”
Its tone grew weaker, “I didn’t do it…for you…My lord….where are…you…I…cannot…sens.”
Its eyes lost their light and it turned quiet. Its midsection dissolved into dust as the rest of the bones fell to the ground, lacking the energy that used to glue them together.
Soral’s hand tried to grab the ash as it fell onto the ground. Her knees drenching in the blood of her assailant as she moved, she turned to Moonhide, her gaze dark. “Call your pack here, together with the guards you can be sure of loyalty.”
Moonhide, after smelling the air around to assure himself the danger had passed, huffed in agreement and rushed to his duty. Gemebs approached Soral.
“Gemebs, it would appear the fears of Sorak were right.” Stated Soral, matter of fact.
“This is an outrageous attack!! How can they be so brazen as to accuse you with profless and baseless accusations and then choosing to try and silence you after their nonsense convinced no one?! The Courts will do…”
“Nothing.” Cutted Soral. “We will fill this incident as me misusing magic. Nothing more. For the paladins…A simple ‘they went on vacations’ will suffice.”
Gemebs, taken aback by her cold tone, shut up.
“The church’s influence is at an all time high. The religions that agreed with the duchess were purged over this last week, didn’t you know? The rest have been brought onto the side or have pledged total neutrality. I am sure me agreeing to follow tradition has enraged them. Heh. This is more of a faith war than anything else. I am a mere obstacle, not the end.” Her smile had none of the fun it was expected of it, “So be it. I will dance to their songs, for now.”
Gemebs merely nodded.
“Once Noct gets back I will be able to move on earnestly.” Soral started to plot, her palms started to bleed in the ashes, as her nails had dug deep into her skin.
……….
Sorak patrolled the other ring. While a wall had been planned, no other measures had been taken. The guard duty had also been lessened, as the rebellion had been put down. Nonetheless, Sorak knew the next months would still be dangerous. Deserters and enemy soldiers usually turned to banditry to sustain themselves, as they would be imprisoned if they returned home.
Her patrol reached the path that led towards the main gate, her eyes detected a strange horseman riding at top speed towards the city. ‘Can an armoured horse go that fas…’ The strangeness turned into understanding as she unsheathed her sword. Flames burning with an ease she had not seen since so long, planting a small and wicked hope, a twisted and manipulative suggestion, an easy to believe lie.
The horseman got closer and she casted a prayer. Her sword shined onto the horse, melting its bones below the armour and swiftly exorcising the abomination. The rider, surprised, fell onto the ground and rolled to try and lessen its fall.
“Paladin Sorak?!” The surprised scream fueled her internal rage. She was no friends with an undead.
She rushed forward and, shield first, impacted against the surprised and fully armoured undead as it tried to get up. Resisting the strike, it rose its own sword, burning yellow, and blocked Sorak’s sword.
“Paladin Sorak! We have met before!! I am no en…” Sorak retracted her shield and impacted with it again, pushing back the undead and disentangling their swords. Hers wore a new nick on its blade. Readjusting her footing, she judged her opponent.
“Please! I bring grave ne…!” Its movements, trying to defuse the situation, gave Sorak the opening she needed. Her shield blocked a weak strike and her sword pierced its flank, its fires biting and burning the bones inside.
“Agh!!” Paladin tried to back, but Sorak pursued it as if possessed. Realising it had to defend itself or die it started to fight.
A parry with his shield, resulting in it being heavily damaged by the fire, a wanna be stab that stopped Sorak’s momentum and a few backsteps. That was not enough and it had to raise its sword to parry and overhead strike. The sound of steel and flames fighting one another resounded around them as their swords moved between them. Sorak grunted and pushed the sword forward, tecniche and protocol forgotten. This was a duel of faith, and she would be damned if she lost to an abomination. Desperation brought the best of her and she slowly pushed Paladin backwards.
“Why…why are you doing this!! We are allies!!”
“You are no ally of mine!! You are a monster and I was wrong for following through!! I won’t lose what I am for petty evil!!” Roared Sorak.
“Mo-monster?” Paladin faltered and the flames of Sorak’s sword started to caress its helmet. Grunting, it pushed forward, something finally snapping in it, “I am the monster here?!?” Pouring all of itself in its sword, it started to push Sorak’s sword backward, widening its nick, as his sword was untouched. “I had to watch as thousands of you gleefully murdered each other because of your leaders’ greed!!” The fire stopped caressing its helmet. “I had to kill and watch my siblings die because of it!!” The swords stabilised in an equal position. ”I had to doubt my ideals, bed and fight to save even one more person and I am a petty evil?!?”
Paladin now roared, “I fought to save your lady side by side with those you call abominations, some dying helping them, and you have allowed yourself to believe that!?!” As he finished that, Paladin pushed Sorak’s sword back and kicked her in the guts, pushing her back. Now it was the one who rushed on the offensive as it plummeted Sorak’s shield and sword with strikes, who was too shaken up to recover her initiative, as a part of her knew that it was right..
“I had to bend and be belittle to save people so petty that used ignorance and prejudices to justify a hate that was born out of commodity and their desire to remain in an uncomplicated status quo!! I had to make myself as small and imperceptibly as I could so as to not disturb the people I, together with my siblings, risked our lives, some dying, to save them from their own problems!!” Sorak raised her battered shield and watched as its following strike broke it in two.
“I have not watched your kind be so merciless as to outright torture and play with their prisoners as to be called a monster!!” Another kick and Sorak fell on her back, her sword dimming and, ultimately, stopping burning. Paladin stopped and after a while of letting Sorak regain her breath, asked, “What has taken over you, Sorak? I looked up to you as the ideal paladin”
That word caused her to look at her sword. Plain steel filled with nicks. The word paladin started to repeat incessantly in her mind, reigniting all of her fury. She had acted as one! She had helped them against her own ideals and common sense, risking herself in the process!! She had fought and bended!! She had obeyed and saved!! And what had they done?! They had taken everything from her!! Her position as a High Paladin was as good as lost!! Her liege had been corrupted by the man she had warned her about and she was going to lose her very own nobility!! And they hadn’t stopped just there, no. They had taken everything from her when she had done the good thing, when she had done the thing she knew that had to be done! Her position, her life, her future. Her very own faith!!
Her sword ignited in a glorious blue and she rose again. Paladin, surprised, fell back and tried to block her sword, only for its sword to be so violently pushed aside that it heard its radius break.
“What has taken over me?!” She roared, “You. I did enough!! I did the good thing!! Why do I have to pay for it!?!” And, preparing an overhead strike, she attacked again.
Paladin grabbed its sword with its two hands and blocked the strike, falling to one knee as the ground broke and cracked beneath it. Sorak raised the sword and struck. Another time. Again. And again. The hits quickly started to ramp up. Still. Paladin didn’t bend, Paladin did not break.
Sorak, irritated, raised her sword even higher and struck. A resounding cling reached both of their eyes. Sorak's gaze fell into confusion, as her hands were holding a handle with half a sword. Her mind blanking, Paladin silently rose up and sheathed its blade.
Soft words reached her ears, “Yes, you did the good thing. What you felt was right. For that I will take pride as a fellow paladin and as a fellow sapient. You raised against the world and did the right thing. But I won’t commend you nor tell you ‘good job’. Doing the good thing is what is required of us, no matter the odds. No matter our feelings. No matter the cost and no matter how many times. And it is less deserving of it when your own faith called for your past actions.”
Paladin looked at Bonfire and saw another enemy. It had come despite Lantraz’s warnings, thinking they would have allies. Thinking its cause was just. Maybe he had expected too much. As Sorak had aired, the people here would risk their lives for others they knew nothing about if it carried on with its plan. They themselves had done so but, could it demand the same from them?. Looking back at Sorak, who was still grasping her broken sword, it felt sick. What he had done had been the pinnacle of selfishness and it was unbecoming of a paladin. ‘Hope and panic are a bad combination.’
Still, her words had stung, “Paladin Sorak. Is this the extent of your will? Of your ideals? Be confronted once and give up? Is your faith as fickle as to come crashing down after a few words? I thought better of you.” Cruel words that it regretted once they came out. But, against all that it should be, it felt better after saying them.
Sorak, slowly leaving her trance, looked up to see a tended hand. “As many chances as needed, Paladin Sorak. No matter what you have done, no matter how much wrong you think you have committed, I will lend a hand. We can, and we must, be better.”
Her naked half blade falling onto a resting position, Sorak grabbed the hand. Once it helped her to her feet, Paladin sighed.
“A simple no would have sufficed.”
Sorak gritted her teeth, “You k…”
“I know, I know. But neither do you about me.” Paladin shaked his head and started to turn around, “Maybe you will think about my words. Faith should be something you hold dear, not condescending teachings spelled from others.”
No words reached it while it walked away.
……………..