literature

True Soul part 26: Rumination

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It was well into the evening. Nearin scratched the back of her head.  Getting the blood out of her hair had been difficult. At least the man she had killed hadn’t bled on her.

The man she had killed…

She felt sick, but forced her mouth open and took another bite of the bread. They were eating dinner at the village Elder’s house. Selesta hadn’t wanted to go back to investigate before the child woke up. Nearin’s feet were infinitely grateful for that.

Now the girl was awake and Selesta was questioning her gently while the girl who was starving ate.  

“What do you remember of the dream?” Selesta asked.

The girl was about to answer, but her mother looked at her sharply, and she quickly swallowed her food first. “There was an old lady who told me to follow her.”

She was much less pale now that the potions had had time to do their job. Though her wounded leg still couldn't handle her weight, but she would be able to walk again with time.

“What did she look like?”

The child opened her mouth, then closed it again. “I don’t remember,” she admitted after a moment. “I think she looked familiar.”

Selesta frowned. “And then you followed her?”

The girl shook her head. “I am not allowed to leave the village alone. But she kept asking. And then she turned scary. Like her face turned like this,” the girl made a face. “She was really angry and,” she hunched, “I don’t remember anymore.”

“It’s okay,” Selesta reassured, then stood up and indicated to Nearin that she should follow her outside where they could talk privately. Grimacing Nearin got up on her protesting feet and followed.

“What do you think?” Selesta asked as soon as the door closed. They were few villagers out and about but none near them. It wasn’t dark quite yet, but the shadows of the mountains made the twilight even dimmer.

“Still sounds like a curse to me, ma’am,” Nearin shrugged and sat down on the bench that lined the wall. It was maybe a bit out of protocol while her mentor was still standing, but her feet overruled her anxiety.

Selesta hadn’t gotten rid of the frown on her face. “The figure though… The curses are not subtle things. If you were to use a curse to draw people to a certain place why bother using dream figures if you can just overpower the victim? The Curses don’t run out of power.”

“If not a curse then what?”

“There is a way the caster’s personality can bleed into the curse.”

Nearin sputtered. “A curse wraith?” The ultimate consequence of losing control of a curse. That was pretty much everything she knew about the being. Except that it meant the caster was dead. Supposedly there was no afterlife for the curse wraiths.

“Would explain the dream figure.” Selesta’s voice was pretty nonchalant, but the frown, that was somehow different from either the ‘disapproving frown’ and the general stern frown that were usually directed at Nearin, told that she was worried.
“So what can it be capable of?” Nearin asked after clearing her throat.

Selesta shrugged. “No way to tell exactly before we meet it. Mental domination obviously, so tomorrow you will stay near me unless I say otherwise.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Nearin leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. They would likely get into a fight again with her attackers. The thought caused her stomach muscles to clench.

Suddenly she felt the weight on the bench shift as Selesta sat next to her. “You are still shocked, aren’t you.”

Nearin look down guiltily, not even sure what she was feeling guilty of, then nodded.

“Good. It should never feel easy.” A moment of silence. “Can you think of any way you could have avoided it?”

Nearin thought about it. About the way her attackers had been in her way stopping her from simply running past them. Eventually she shook her head.

“You had the right to defend your life and the life of the child who might not have survived without those potions.” Selesta looked at Nearin. “Draw your sword.”

Puzzled, Nearin did and handed it to Selesta who had gestured her to do so. Selesta held it horizontally by supporting its hilt with one hand and the blade with other. “When you were given a sword for the first time, what were you told?”

“That it is not a toy,” Nearin answered as the memory came to her strongly. She dismissed the thought before any later resentment for her father could darken it.

“Indeed. This is a weapon made for killing. It is not a toy. It is not a tool. Those who treat it as either do not respect the weapon and the others end up paying the consequences for it. Each weapon is built to end life and sometimes in order to protect the world we Paladins have to use them to that end.” Selesta stared at the distance as she spoke reliving another moment as she spoke.

“But we must not view it as a tool. Violence is the tool of the oppressors, easily grasped, wielded without second thought. To us it must remain a weapon. Something only used when there is no other option. When we have no other option but to end a life.” Selesta stood up and handed the sword back to Nearin.

“Remember that feeling. Do not forget it. Let it temper your blade. But do not be consumed by it.”

Nearin nodded numbly.

“What do we do now, Ma'am?”

“In the morning we go to the Phoenix's fall.” Selesta went inside, but Nearin remained sitting.

She stared at her sword. Who had the person she had killed been? Oh they'd surely find out what group he had been part of. But would she ever know his name? Or where he was from? Had he left behind any friends or family? That thought made her stomach twist unpleasantly.

Did she have any right to want to know those things about someone she killed. Or did she even want to. She sighed and looked at the darkening sky. It was going to be a long night for her she guessed. Then she sheathed her sword and went back inside.
Merry Christmass!
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