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The Immortal
131: Importance of a Hero

131: Importance of a Hero

As the morning comes, I suddenly notice my pain waning and upon a quick glance, my arm and leg is restored to their previous condition. While I feel like I learnt a lot during the night, I have an inkling it will take a very long time to learn to read. If only the language was like English, I could have sounded out the words, since I already know how to speak, but the characters here each represent a whole word. The only logic to it, is that the same class of words, have a common base. For example, each character for the family has a vertical stroke, with three increasingly long horizontal strokes from the top to the middle, so that it resembles a simple drawing of a tree. Then, for father, mother, son etc. the difference is only small marks around or on the letter.

I also became a little sad upon realizing I couldn’t really converse with the book. At least not with ease. It only ever replies to questions I have, not giving any response if I try to talk to it in any other way. Guess it did scream out when I threw, so it must be able to. It also answers most questions in a manner, that almost makes it seem like it is dodging the issue. For example, I asked it “What makes a good person?” To which it replied “Good is a nebulous term. Most common usage is for something beneficial to and liked by its surroundings”.

Finally, I have taken to calling it Dixy, after the word dictionary, since it appears as its primary function.

As I walk back to camp, I debate with myself whether to share the book, but ultimately I decide not to. I am starting to think it is better to keep my secrets in this world. It seems when people learn about me, I always end up in some form of trouble.

Back at the camp, Medeor has gotten up. He doesn’t look fully well, but significantly better than yesterday. I wonder if Spetus would also be envious of his healing capabilities, but it is obvious it is easier to envy mine.

“Morning” I extend my greeting to him. Spetus and Vegar are still sleeping.

He turns to me looking slightly confused. “What… What happened? Where is everyone?”

The depressing feeling appears in my gut again, but I deliver the news as well as I can. “Ostir and Visel died to that monster. Connir ran towards the capital after learning that Ahorn got killed by God”.

As my last words leave my lips, what little color remained in Medeor’s face drained and he became pale white.

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“God… God killed Ahorn? Why? What is this? Why?”

He is reacting more like Connir than the rest of us, looking all perplexed.

“Apparently, he wasn’t acting the way God wanted him to… And God was mad”.

“How are you so calm? Do you not know what this means?” He is very shaken.

“I mean… Ahorn is dead?”

“You idiot! The hero is supposed to be the emissary from God! Every word and command from the hero is taken as having God’s blessing! If the hero’s acts don’t necessarily align with God’s…. Everything… Everything this country is built on could be false!”

I suddenly understand the seriousness. As if the pope was struck down by lightning, their followers and those who has acted in the faith that he represents God’s will have their world shaken to their core.

“I… We have to get back… Inform Prink!” Medeor rises and shakily moves into a run, where he falls down. Fortunately, I kept up with him and catch him.

“Give it up. We are taking our sweet time getting back, what with the injuries of you and Spetus.” Medeor looks along the road, like he is gazing into the distance, before reluctantly giving a nod.

When Vegar and Spetus get up, we spend a few hours hunting for supplies before packing up and heading out. The trip out here went fast and while Ahorn drived us to move restlessly, the lack of his presence makes the trip back feel infinitely worse. Lonely. Depressed.

People don’t talk and we only move slowly along the road to get back to the city. It takes more than two days, but at some times, I think it was even more painful than guarding the caravan, since I am travelling with people who have been hurt as a result of my actions. The nights I spent learning with Dixy somewhat remedy that though. It feels like Dixy doesn’t judge me, nor does she hold any expectations. Though she makes for a lousy conversation partner, it is infinitely more relieving than the travel in painful silence.

Eventually we make it back, spying the massive city slowly emerging from the fog. People dressed in similar uniforms come running out of the city to greet us. Apparently there are here to escort us, though it feels a bit weird that they only appear now.

It becomes even weirder when we enter the city. Mean looks appear from the streets, directed towards us, as we are guided through the streets. When we end up at the plaza, I feel like most movement stops to look at us. A massive swarm of people all standing around the white house-like building. They start Jeering.

“You monsters!”

“How could you do this!?”

“What have you done?”

Most of it is drowned out by the sudden rise in volume, but what I pick up confuses me. The people escorting us is holding the crowd back.

Suddenly, silence falls over them, and I turn to see Prink emerge from the palace with an entourage. They procced slowly, until they are some 20 feet away from us.

Prink starts to speak in a loud and slow voice.

“Yos of the Circle, you are hereby under arrest for the murder of hero Ahorn!”

What? The crowd immediately starts getting riled up again and a few of the guards surrounding us now point their spears and swords towards us. What is happening?