God Rising: The Cult of Ainz
Written by: AtheistBasementDragon
Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots
Chapter 178: Duty and Responsibility
AN: Happy Holidays! Since we had some people donate food to food banks, I'm doing a short chapter bomb instead of just a winter vacation. Seven chapters, 6 GR and one Discord Exclusive comedy moved over. Enjoy... But one more thing!
AN TRIGGER WARNING: This warning will appear on a number of chapters going forward. I don't normally do these, but given the delicate subject matter... I think it necessary. Some of you have noticed that the character of Neia Baraja has become increasingly violent. As those of you who read the Synod are aware, she by this point, has developed SEVERE PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) due to the things she's seen and done. I have done my best to write it in such a way that this mental health condition is treated RESPECTFULLY and not some TRIVIALIZED GIMMICK, any defects found therein, are mine. Her mistakes, her outbursts, nightmares, aggressiveness, defensiveness, and her desensitization toward and increasingly reactionary resorting to violence are all part of that, as is... unfortunately, the state of mind that has her starting to believe she is beyond help or hope, and those of you who are observant, have noticed it building for awhile. I realize this makes her less... likeable. But I hope it helps to make her more 'real', and if you know someone like this in the real world... please... get them help. Also, if it helps... the Synod deals heavily with her attempt at coming back, so... while I hate to give spoilers, don't lose hope for her.
...Nimble's Column...
The clanking column's shining armor caught the light of the sun and their halberd points were ramrod straight in the arms of their wielders. The knights of the Baharuth Empire marched perfectly in sync with one another, as foot fell beside foot; every halberd, every pike, every spear was equally level. The closed face protection of the knight's helmets robbed them of their human faces. At the same time, the long and winding march of the four man wide column, moving along the dirt road, kicked up an enormous cloud of dust that the village could see for miles.
Nimble looked over his shoulder and suppressed the expression of the pride he felt in these consummate professionals. The village ahead was making a lot of noise. 'I shouldn't be surprised.' He thought, as he heard the sound of shouting and alarm. 'They had to have heard or seen us coming a mile away at least. Damn fools.' He reached into his pocket and pulled out the set of orders, each village had orders scrawled next to it, some read 'exterminate', some read 'suppress', some read 'occupy' and a very few read, 'protect'.
He traced his finger down the line to see whether a little bit of ink would see a few hundred people dead or not. His hand stopped and moved to the right to read the order. "Alright, 'exterminate' it is." He looked to the drummer next to him. "Sound the order for extermination when we get within a bowshot."
"Sir." The young drummer replied abruptly.
General Nimble sighed, "Damn fools." He muttered angrily, "If you'd just taken prisoners, or if you'd just disobeyed, you'd live, what the hell were you thinking, killing off the little garrison here wasn't going to win you anything..." He relaxed his body as the column came close, he saw the handful of villagers in the distance, they had a complement of archers lining up, a hundred and fifty at a glance, maybe more, in a loose, crude formation, ready to fight against his column of tens of thousands.
"Brave... but stupid." Nimble said quietly and drew his sword, before the first arrow was loosed, the drummer boy sounded the order, a cavalry officer blew his horn, and the thunder of hooves echoed over open ground as they began to charge the little place. 'In an hour, there won't be a single person alive over the age of fourteen left there. In two hours, I'll have the surviving children secured and sent off to whatever place the Sorcerer King is keeping them, and in two weeks, the burned out ruins of this village will already have started to decay. In two years, nobody will remember it existed at all.' He thought as he spurred his horse forward, leading another column around the rear of the open, unwalled village to cut off the escape of anyone who might be old enough to rebel again. "Damn fools. Such brave, damn fools," he spat out, as he spotted a handful of villagers armed with swords attempt to charge his force, unarmored and on foot, as if they had a chance against mounted and armored cavalry. 'I wonder...' He thought briefly before he wheeled to meet the counterattack, 'Do they know it's all useless?'
He never got a chance to ask them.
...Massacre Site...
Snow came down in large but gently drifting flakes around General Oma. The powder deepened over the earth beneath the hooves of Ichabod, and her icy gaze went from the empty road, to the lone survivor who had cast himself into the snow. The blanket of the sky wiped away all traces that anyone had ever walked the road before her, as if the world itself rejected the notion that they had ever lived. In the distance, the figure who had witnessed it all lay unmoving. 'I suppose I've waited long enough.' General Oma thought to herself, and shook her head, casting off the snow that settled in her long white hair. 'If I wait too long for him to move, he'll never move again.' She tapped her heels into the flanks of Ichabod, and the massive percheron horse trod a snowy path from where it stood, to where he lay.
She reached a position merely a foot from him, Ichabod's hooves rose and fell in the snowy ground, as if asking her to let him trample the fallen man. She granted no such permission, but rather took her scythe from off her back, and poked the butt of it into the man's body. "Hey, get up, get up, I'm afraid it isn't time for you to die just yet." She said to him in a fairly impatient voice.
"I don't want to, just... leave me alone, if you want to kill me, kill me, it doesn't matter what position I'm in, you can do that regardless of whether I'm lying down, kneeling, or standing up. I never bought that whole 'die on your feet' crap. You're not less or more dead based on what position you're cut down in, so just do what your master wants, and finish me." He replied in a broken voice.
"My master didn't order your death, survivor. He said you have a purpose to fulfill before you can die, and I should see that you rise to the occasion... more or less." She shrugged passively and poked him again. "Look, I can keep poking you all day if I have to, but I'd rather be somewhere else, the least you can do is look up at me, it's rude not to look at the one you're talking to." She pointed out critically, as if she were remarking on poor table manners.
"I guess that's true..." He grumbled, "Dead in an hour or a minute, the least I can be is polite before the end." He groaned in pain while his body resisted his orders. He rose to all fours and then pushed himself up to his knees, his bones ached, his muscles ached, the cold had sapped his strength and it was only with the greatest effort that he managed even that much, before raising his head to look up at the dullahan before him.
General Oma put her scythe away, "Better... now, maybe you didn't understand me before, but I'll repeat, I'm not here to kill you, you have a job to do."
Boabdil frowned, "A job?" He asked and furrowed his brow. "I don't work for your master, what job?"
General Oma nodded, "That is precisely why the job is yours. You have seen his Majesty's will and power, you have seen 'me' the dead General Oma, restored to unlife far more powerful than I left it. You will bear this knowledge away from this place, return to your people, make them listen, make them see reason and surrender."
General Boabdil laughed bitterly, "You don't recognize me, I take it." He replied, giving her a smile as bitter as his laugh.
She cocked her head, "No, should I?"
"I know you, General Oma, though we haven't met... many years ago when my nation sent a handful of retired Black Scriptures to your country, I sent with them, a number of my aides to assist in training your officer corps. You were just a junior officer then, but when my people returned, they spoke highly of a junior officer of great talent, in spite of her 'tainted blood'." The last two words had a distasteful emphasis on them, and so she tensed only slightly in body at their utterance. "I am General Boabdil."
"I see." She raised an eyebrow with interest, "Well, it is a shame we are on opposing sides, but... perhaps it is better if you know who you're dealing with, I like to think I've conducted myself in such a way that you will take my word for it when I say your cause is lost, no matter what I look like now." She answered him and removed her head from her body. Rather than dismount, she let it sit in her palm and extended her arm so that her head was now closer to him.
"Am I right?" She asked pointedly.
Boabdil sighed, "You're not wrong at least but... I will make a poor voice. As far as the Theocracy is concerned, I'm dead. I was classified as 'defeatist' and Cardinal Dominic took my wife hostage and threatened her with death if I did not take my own life. I managed to fake my suicide and take on a different identity to continue my service but... well, you see the problem, don't you? Even if I do this, it will be as someone without credibility, and if I use my true name to gain it, my wife will die."
General Oma frowned, then flipped her arm up so that her head flew up and landed conveniently on her neck. "Neat, wasn't sure I'd make that shot." She said casually. "Alright, well..." She bit her lower lip and let them fidget aimlessly as she thought of one problem after another. "Damn, that is a problem." She took a deep breath and held it for several minutes, her arms folded over her chest, she tapped her fingers on her left bicep as she contemplated what to do.
"I suppose, out of respect for your conduct in this war... and for your past assistance to my country, I can intercede on your behalf, ask if someone will shelter your wife, and give you a free hand to reassert your life and let you speak the truth and save what you can. I mean... if you really want to die, I guess you could. But don't you have a duty to your people at least?" She said simply as she stroked the mane of her precious mount.
"Help an old man to his feet, will you?" He asked and raised a hand, she took it, and easily hefted him upright before letting go.
"Death or duty isn't a choice, and I guess if I really want to die, doing so because I did my duty is as good a way as any." He said solemnly. "But... can I ask something?"
"I suppose, I don't know if I'll have the answer, but you can ask it." General Oma replied with a shrug.
"Why do this? Why not just use all this power and wipe us out? Or let the red hand and the other vengeful hosts come and do it. Why even offer us a chance to save ourselves?" General Boabdil asked in confusion.
"I honestly don't know the answer to that... but if I can propose something...?" She asked tentatively as she sat back on her horse.
"Go ahead?" He asked in rapt attention as he went over to his own mount... which had backed several feet away on its own.
"When it comes to something like that, don't look at him, look at those around him. From what I know of Lord Ainz, everything he does has a reason, or multiple reasons. If something he does, doesn't make sense, then the problem is never on his end, but in our own limited vision." She sighed with exasperation, "It's no state secret that this scared even our Queen, to see how far ahead he thought, she talked often of it in breathless awe. He must have some reason to not simply unleash everyone on you, I don't know what, but a word of advice... be glad of that and take advantage of it. Save what you can, General Boabdil, or save nothing at all. He's given you a chance, and it is more than most kings give their enemies."
Boabdil nodded somberly as he got into the saddle of his horse... "I... yes. I will bear the sight of their deaths with me for as long as I live, but perhaps I can at least give their deaths meaning by using it as a warning to end things before... well, before the worst."
"Goodbye, General Oma." General Boabdil replied, and wheeling his horse back the way he came, he began to ride away.
General Oma watched her enemy leave, and when he was a distance beyond her, she turned her horse around and began to ride west, Ichabod continued to pick up speed, her long hair whipped up in the wind behind her as she spurred him on faster and faster, and somehow, without knowing how she knew... she knew he simply would not, could not tire... very much like herself.
...Kami Miyako...
"Forgive me, Lady Solution, I find myself tired this evening." Raymond said as he slumped at his desk.
"You're only human." She said with the same smile she had on her face when Raymond knew she was eating somebody inside herself.
He managed a laugh when she said that, it was common byplay between the two of them now. "You sure about that?" He asked playfully for the hundredth time.
"I'll know better if they let me taste you." She licked her lips hungrily as she looked at him.
He only rolled his eyes, and signed the document in front of him. "No doubt, no doubt. By the way, does a human taste differently than a demon?" He asked curiously as the question suddenly came to him.
"Very." Solution said firmly.
"What's the difference?" He asked, vaguely aware of how surreal the conversation was.
"Humans taste kind of like..." She tapped her chin as she thought and looked away... "kind of like pork. Demons... well I've only eaten weak ones but... they're spicy, kind of like flavored jerked beef." She explained, wiping her mouth as she started to salivate, and finished off the target inside herself that she'd been saving as a snack for later. She cut off the scream to avoid the annoyance while she talked, but savored the trembling agony of the rest by slowly dissolving the living flesh.
Raymond took a sip of tea, he smirked as he recognized the very slight change of expression on her face as she ate someone. 'Is this really me?' He wondered to himself, 'I'm a defender of humanity... I'm doing all this 'for' us... but a half a year ago I couldn't have killed another human except at absolute need... now? I can smirk while one is consumed inside a slime? And enjoy it? What a difference... to think I could enjoy all this?'
As if she could read his mind, she chuckled, "See," She said, "You're just a lesser demon. It's kind of funny, really." She said as she finished off the remainder of the person inside her.
"How's that?" He asked as he poured a little milk into his tea and stirred.
"Most of your species are like sheep, easily herded, sheared, and slaughtered, you do it yourselves all the time. But sometimes some of you seem to be born with souls that aren't like the rest. You wreak havoc, you destroy, you kill and love it, oh you have your reasons and justifications sure..." Solution giggled at the pretense and went to sit down in front of him on the opposite side of the desk, she rested her head in one hand as she laid her elbow down and looked at Raymond, "but the truth is, you enjoy it. You pick your favorite type of kill, and you kill, and believing rightly or wrongly that it will get you something else after that, is just a bonus."
Raymond set aside the milk and brought the cup to his lips as she spoke. "Ahhh, that really is good. Getting damned hard to come by though, that's it for the milk and there's been no new tea at market for weeks." He thought aloud as he set the cup back down. "So you think I'd have been a killer no matter what?" He asked curiously, letting out a slight huff that might have meant anything.
Solution nodded, "I know the soul of a killer very well, and that's you, Cardinal Raymond. You're like a demonic sheepdog."
He choked on his next sip of tea as she said that, sputtering some out and drawing a laugh from the buxom blonde beauty opposite him as he pounded his chest and coughed it out.
"A what now?" He asked incredulously when he regained himself.
When Solution stopped laughing, she went on, "Wolves just prey randomly on sheep, but the most successful wolves become sheepdogs, keeping a large number of prey to themselves for their own use. The sheep think of the sheepdogs as their protectors, but I've seen your cities and I laugh at that."
He raised one eyebrow and lowered another, looking at her cockeyed, "You're going to have to explain that one."
"Your nobles and merchants live in great castles, palaces, manors and mansions, your senior military officers keep wives and concubines, using the wealth they acquire to push themselves higher and pursue their own pleasure, and it all depends on the sheep below to obey them, which the sheep happily do because you demonic sheepdogs are, to them, protectors from the wolves. But any way you put it, they're going into somebody's belly. They're just more scared of the wolves than they are of you." Solution laughed louder as Raymond went quiet, she rapped her fingers on the table as if counting the time before his rebuttal.
He finished his tea and sat up straight, "I 'am' doing this for a higher cause you know, I'm not joking about that. My nation has destroyed its potential; through our corruption, through our pointless cruelty, we created a system that can only fail. I'm not doing this just for pleasure."
"I don't doubt your devotion, I'm just saying that without it, you'd be killing anyway. You take to it too easily, and you enjoy it too much for me to believe otherwise, and what's more, you know I'm right." She leaned closer, he didn't flinch away. 'Brave one.' She thought to herself as her monster smile spread over her face.
"Speaking of, how is Nua doing with her training?" Raymond asked idly.
Solution, sensing his desire for a change of subject, and that she'd get no further with that one, sat back and answered him, "Stubbornly, if I had to pick a word for it; she's got a high tolerance for pain, that one." Solution looked at him archly.
'Your people are to thank for that.' It was an unspoken sentiment, one he was reminded of regularly, and which he never asked that she not say, the reminder fueled his rage.
"But?" He asked.
Solution let out a heavy sigh and slumped backward herself, letting her arms fall against her side, "She just has no killer instinct. She managed to make a kill in Nazarick, but that was in a moment of fury, and that doesn't come easy to her. She learns the forms, she takes the blows, she practices her counters, but even though she can't possibly hurt me, she doesn't have the will to try to do it."
"What will you do?" Raymond asked with interest as he slid the now empty teacup across the table to the maid.
"Play to her strengths I suppose she needs escape skills, teach her how to flee effectively, use her surroundings to her advantage, and teach her how to disable rather than kill. Not what I'm best at, but I'm good enough to teach the likes of her." Solution replied.
"The likes of who?" Nua asked as she entered the room casually.
"You." Solution replied with amusement.
"Oh, I suppose that makes sense." She said somewhat chastened, then turned to Raymond and extended a letter. "From Enlaith. Coded." She explained.
Raymond nodded and took the document and broke the seal, opening it up. "Well, this is useful."
"What?" Solution asked.
Raymond's fingers were tense, "Enlaith is now the new favorite of a visiting Agante. He's tight lipped, but lets little details slip here and there. This letter includes... you won't believe this."
"What?" Solution and Nua asked in unison as Raymond started to laugh.
"Information about a plan to send a team to assassinate Neia Baraja. Details are sparse, but apparently he promised to come back here after he 'finished off the apostate.' He didn't say which apostate, but there is only one person in a thousand miles who could be called 'the' apostate. A series of teams went out not long ago to target the generals of the various armies, we should pass this along to His Majesty, he'll likely want to set guards of his own to them." Raymond said thoughtfully and reached into his desk drawer for a message scroll.
Nua, thinking of the person that wrought slaughter with ease, whose shadowy eyes sparked terror so great even unconnected elves who barely left their homes in Kami Miyako, heard stories about it, started to laugh.
"Why is he so far behind the others?" Solution asked with rather more caution in her voice.
"It doesn't say. He's a specialist of some sort, but no other information is available here, this does include his name but I don't recognize it, I'll need access to his official record to know why he's selected for this, looks like he's traveled quite a ways though. In... look in honest combat I doubt any one of them would stand a chance but... the Agante are relentless, ruthless fanatics, they'll kill by any means they can." Raymond explained unhappily.
"What makes them so special?" Nua asked when her laughter finally began to die down under Raymond's serious demeanor.
"They're... well, they're not like godkins, but they're similar in that they're raised from childhood for this kind of thing. When parents and families die off and leave children behind, those orphans are raised in special institutions where their abilities are determined, and those best suited for... this kind of thing, are funnelled into a training program that they spend their youths in, venturing out as adults to their assignments. They're raised to be covert agents of chaos and murder for the sake of the gods. They're probably the ones Dominic used to help finish off his opponents. In retrospect I should have seen it when the late Pontifex Maximus showed me the evidence of how Dominic came to power. The sly bastard must have been using Agante loyal to himself against his own government, planting evidence to disgrace some, bribing officials to nominate the right people to temple voting positions, killing others... no wonder he was able to pull it off without being noticed."
Raymond sighed and set the letter down. "It's the same exact thing we've been doing to the dark elves and demihumans for generations to keep them weak and divided, only he used them for himself to get a position of absolute power. Alright, I'm going to send this to His Majesty and then get some rest, hopefully he gets it before any of those teams reach their targets, I don't want to think of what he'd do if any actually succeeded." Raymond shuddered in discomfort.
"Hmpf, that would be something. But for now... see you tomorrow, Raymond. I'm heading out to the next target, but if you can't get to those records by sundown, just let me know where they are. I'll borrow an agent of Nazarick to get to them. I doubt very much you want to see the response out of His Majesty if somebody actually killed General Baraja, so I would make that a priority." Solution said pleasantly as she stood up and walked out, with Nua waiting patiently as Raymond opened the scroll.
A moment later, his eyes became distant, not really seeing her as he focused on what he had to say... and what he had to hear, while in communication with the Sorcerer King.
His face went pale. Nua bit her lip and sat down where Solution had been, waiting patiently but shifting with increasing discomfort as the seconds ticked past.
Finally Raymond's time of communication passed away, and he pounded his fist on his desk hard enough to crack it and shouted, "Damn it! Damn those fools!"
Nua jumped and began to shake in instinctive fear.
He raised his hand, "Sorry, sorry, I'm sorry Nua, I didn't mean to frighten you, it's just..."
"Just?" She asked anxiously.
"Two Agante teams already struck, they failed to kill General Musan, but they got General Oma, the commanders of the Draconic Kingdom army under Queen Draudillon. And... not only did the Sorcerer King raise the deceased general, he turned her to a deadly undead dullahan, and as 'punishment' to my kingdom, he erased one of our only remaining armies... forty thousand, struck dead in an instant..." He sighed breathlessly.
"Oh." Nua said in a neutral voice that sounded slightly happy about it.
Raymond folded his hands on his desk, "It's alright, I don't ask that you mourn the dead of my nation, you don't have to hide your glee from me, I... understand it." His voice was bitter and broken, and his spirit only wilted when she did not revel in the deaths of so many humans.
Instead she got up and went around the desk and sank to her knees next to him so that she was looking up at him affectionately. She reached out and placed her hands in his lap and he turned to look down at her. "You're a good human. I never thought I'd know one, I know how much it hurts to see your people die like this, and I don't enjoy the ache it creates here..." She reached up and touched his chest at the heart, "but don't let it break you. Just make it to the end, and whatever happens... I'll help you, like you've helped me."
Raymond reached out and touched her head, stroking her hair affectionately. She did not flinch from his touch. "You say I'm a good human, Solution says I'm a demon in human skin. Not too long ago, you insisted all humans were demonic, and the human savior of the elves is referred to by humans as a demon herself... who is what is all so confusing, I can't even tell who is good or bad anymore, the only thing I know to be good is that you and those like you will get a better world out of this when it's over. It's really the only thing that lets me know I'm on the right side at this point. I can't ask more of you than that." He gave a bitter laugh, then let his hand come away from her, and she stood up.
"But... you weren't lingering behind just to say this, were you? Why are you really still in here? You have something more for me, don't you?" Raymond asked with a small frown on his face, a sense of dread sweeping over him.
She nodded, "Yes... I went to the market today like you said, to buy grain, fruits, meat; everything we need. You know the prices have been high in the past, but today they shot higher than the walls around this prison of a city. With the refugees streaming in from everywhere, I shouldn't be surprised. I managed to buy grain and a few of the more expensive fruits, it'll be enough for us here in the house... barely. Despite all those people coming from Feron. But I couldn't buy any meat, it's all gone, the butcher shops were shut down in minutes, sold out. With all those new people that recently arrived, this isn't going to get better, and the city is getting packed... dangerous... and expensive."
She started to shake as the memory of fear washed over her. "I... well you dress us better than average, the refugees, they're ragged, but you put me in," she swallowed, "people clothes, to do the shopping, and they look at me with more hatred than I've seen from anyone since Pharmakia; others, they look at me strangely, I worry that they might be crazy. Some of them shake like they're sick and just 'stare' at me. I... I had to get around a few people who got in my way, a human guard who knew me as y-your s-slave... he's the only reason I think they didn't hit me for daring to shop."
Raymond listened patiently, tapping his forefingers together as he took everything in.
"And... there's something else too." She bit her lip anxiously.
"What?" Raymond asked with dread as her body's shaking became subtly greater.
"It's, well... it's the meat. I mean it is all gone from the market, but I saw some people with meat anyway and I can't buy it anywhere for some reason. I talked to the other ah... the other slaves when shopping. None of us are having any luck buying meat for our masters or mistresses. I assume it's only reserved for those who aren't slaves like us. So... who is doing it? And why doesn't it look right?"
"What do you mean it doesn't 'look right'?" Raymond asked calmly.
Nua's eyes glassed over and she reached out and grabbed Raymond's shoulders, hard, harder than she ever had. "I don't know how to explain it, it doesn't have the redness of deer or the thick fattiness of cattle, I've talked with slaves who talked with cooks who have been working with meat longer than your and my lifetime combined, and even though they prepare it for their owners... they don't know what it is either. What is it? Where is it coming from? Raymond please... please I'm getting scared..." Her voice trembled like her body did, and for the first time since he'd met her, she clung to him.
"I don't know what's happening out there, I'm scared to be alone on the street, even wearing a collar so everybody knows I-I'm property, even dressed like a rich man's possession... the looks I get, the change in the spirit of the city... I've lived here for most of my life now... I've always been scared until recently... but now... now I'm more frightened than ever... Please... promise me you won't let anything happen to me out there... I don't... I know I'm all jumbled, none of this makes any sense! But none of it out THERE makes any sense either!" She exclaimed, "The streets are packed, the hatred thick, the fear thicker, the mysteries I'm seeing are tickling at my brain like I'm missing something important... please don't let anything happen, please don't... I don't want to go out there... I don't... I'm afraid one day soon I won't come back."
She bit her lip and pressed her head to him and started crying in fear. "I don't want to be scared again... I. Can't. Go. Back!" She begged for the end of her fears from the only human she trusted. A small part of her thought, 'Please don't disappoint me...' as she felt him contemplate how to answer her.
Raymond's frown deepened and he let her cling to him, gently touching her shoulders so as not to make her feel trapped by an embrace, however well-intentioned it might have been. "The meat could be made by magic... we're always trying new things with that but... it is mainly Yvon's area of oversight; it is capable of all kinds of things though, so I'll put in some inquiries, I'm sure there's a reasonable answer. It's probably nothing, just the fruit of some military magic experiment that is being used to increase our food supplies that is only being rationed to humans and not sold to the public."
"I... I hadn't thought of that... maybe I'm being silly but... still, please don't send me out there again without someone to protect me. The looks the refugees give me... none of your people have been good to me for a long time. But the expressions and eyes I get from the ones out of Feron, the things they whisper to me when trapped in a crowded line and I can't get away from their whispers... when they lean in close... if I weren't wearing the marks of property..." She shuddered. "I've rarely felt such naked hate for me before..."
Raymond nodded gravely, and held Nua's hand, he stroked the top of it slowly with reassurance and spoke in a slow, tender voice. "Feron was the place Aalon took, the survivors who escaped felt the wrath of elves first hand... I'm not surprised, but just remember this... when confronted with the wrath of the elves... they ran away."
Nua smiled, "That... actually makes me feel better. But I still want a guard."
"I'll ask for Solution to go with you." Raymond said without hesitation, and Nua relaxed completely. "I'll also make sure she... 'sternly' cautions those who accost you."
Nua's smile got much, much larger, and Raymond reached up and wiped her tears away with his thumb. "Thank you, Raymond. Now, go ahead and get some rest, you clearly need it, you are after all only human." She said as she stepped away and walked out, leaving him alone.
Raymond scribbled his signature on a few more documents, then got up, blew out the candle, engulfing the room in darkness, and walked to the door. "Only human, huh? I'm not even sure what that means anymore." He muttered as he walked out and went to at least attempt to get some rest.