The survivors who weren't soldiers needed no convincing. They were already dying here. There was little food left, and half of it was afflicted with Scarlet Rot. My uncle of course had prioritized only the soldiers loyal to himself. Trolls, fortunately, do not need to eat. They have the giants' vigor, even with the Flame God excised by Marika's knives.
As I sat with my uncle to discuss the plan to evacuate and quarantine the survivors, I saw the troll take a great deal of the good preserved foods as if it were normal. I asked my uncle in a roundabout way. The damned fool was just like any other member of the Order. He had forgotten or never bothered to know.
After a moment, I excused myself to wash but followed after the troll. My captain could stall that old glory-hound with tales of the Shattering.
No one had thought to see that the troll did not eat. The Order did not think them special, save in how much abuse they could sustain. His own brothers in war would not eat with him. Stealth is not the way of a Fire Monk, but he pretended he did not hear me.
The archer had come to a tucked-away hollow. In the dim firelight, I saw the sick and the dying. The citizens who were not immediately useful who had been left to starve. The troll had a great stone knife and was dividing portions as evenly as he could.
The light came from a second troll. He held a fire in his hands, letting it burn his undying flesh to keep the people warm.
I approached the archer and gave him what remained of my hard rations. Eating only the clam monsters was not half so vile as this. The Order had never prepared its people for anything less than splendor. Fire Monks could endure starvation, and we were each prepared to make the final sacrifice for duty.
I had turned people away from the Academy knowing they would likely die. But I never just… watched. I returned their lives to their own hands. My uncle was responsible for these people, and he did not care.
I imagine my uncle wondered had become of me, but I spent the next while telling the people gathered there about all the progress we were making in Liurnia. About how they would live their lives when they made it there. The trolls and I knew most of them would not make it, but we were the people of the Flame of Ruin. It was our duty too to stoke the fire of hope.