The Synod: The Book of Black Justice

By AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 18

...Arwintar...Following Day...

"Tell me something." Ainz said as he walked the streets of Arwintar beside Leinas Rockbruise.

"Anything." She replied calmly.

"Is it a beautiful day today?" Ainz asked her while he looked around the bustling streets.

Leinas blinked in confusion at the question. "I... suppose it is. The weather is good, looks like summer is going to hit soon, a gentle breeze, the warmth of the sun is pleasing to me, and may I say, Your Majesty, that I'm extremely grateful for this enchanted armor's ability to shrug off the weather's effects on the body.

There was a heavy and exaggerated sigh from her as she walked, it was a rare moment of humor from the serious woman, and Ainz didn't miss it.

"You're welcome, that black armor suits you." Ainz answered and Leinas smiled proudly.

"I thank you, but... Sire, why do you ask what kind of day it is?" Leinas probed curiously as she glanced sideways at him.

The sun was not high in the sky yet, but the city of Arwintar had the population out in force, countless people going about their lives, giving them a wide berth as they walked down the public street.

"I was just thinking. I can 'feel' touch, in a manner of speaking. But... have you ever been so cold, that your sense of touch was numbed, where you felt the pressure of an object, but the true feel of it was lost to you?" He asked curiously.

"Yes, Your Majesty. A few times on some of my tougher adventures." Leinas replied matter of factly.

"That is how it is for myself all the time. Not the cold, but rather the ability to 'feel' anything I put this to." He held up his skeletal hand beside her. "A kind of numbness, it has been a long time, and while I was thinking that this was a pleasant day, I realized just a little while ago I was recalling my memory of what pleasant days were supposed to be like. What if my memory was wrong?" He asked thoughtfully.

"You were... once living?" Leinas asked with surprise etched on her face through wide eyes that did not seem to retain their ability to blink.

"Yes. I do not know why people are always surprised by that. It isn't exactly a state secret, I simply don't mention it, but few have ever recognized that this was the case. But I was once a living being, I remember my mother, the few friends I had, good days and bad ones, I remember death coming for those I knew, and being powerless to stop it. Perhaps that is what drove me to this, august form you see now." Ainz said and held his arms up level with his waist. "But as time goes forward, and those memories become more and more distant and remote, how can I be sure of them?" Ainz asked in quiet reflection.

Leinas didn't answer right away, at first she was not sure the question was seriously meant. 'What does a mortal woman say to a god, even if he was once mortal?' She wondered and, like her master, lost herself in thought.

"I think... I think you don't. Majesty... I think all you can do is remember that not all bodies are like yours is now. And maybe... ask occasionally, 'is it a beautiful day'. I think if you do that, you might remember how different everyone is, and that might make you the kind of king who is loved for all his reign, which I might add, I hope is forever." Leinas answered hesitantly, unable to meet his red eyes as she answered.

"Majesty, may I ask a question?" Leinas ventured in a low voice as they drew closer to their destination.

"You may." He replied absently.

"This isn't about the weather, is it? It's... about her." Leinas guessed hurriedly as if fearing she might lose the nerve to ask.

"Yes." He answered succinctly. "She tried to think as I thought and do as I did, and it tore her apart in the end, and yet there is still more hardship ahead, from which I cannot save her."

"Sire... all this humble soldier can tell you is... what makes you different has made you a better king over us. Perhaps she was too zealous, perhaps the events too much, but even with the hardship ahead... whatever that may be, if you just try to remember that we're different, and 'try' to see through our eyes even when it is impossible, you'll remain a better king than any before you. And I worked under Emperor Jircniv." She said proudly as she praised him.

"Good advice. You know, if you ever wish to retire your armor, you might make a good council member." Ainz remarked in passing, and she blushed lightly.

"Thank you, Sire. But may I ask, where are we going? This isn't the way to the Synod." Leinas asked as she looked around, somewhat baffled.

"Correct, today they debate freely among themselves without a speaker, tomorrow they vote, today we're going to visit a house of healing. Since the initial few that I had built, more have sprung up, often sponsored by my generals themselves." Ainz said with an unmistakable note of pride. "We are visiting the wounded. So that they know their sacrifices were not forgotten."

Leinas froze in midstep, her eyes misted over of their own accord and she stared at him as if he had grown another head.

He made it a step beyond before noticing she was not at his side, and turned around. "Do I have something on my face?" He asked as he brought his hand up to touch the bones of his cheek.

"A king who should rule, what a time to live." Leinas said breathlessly. "Sire... I was an adventurer for some time, during that time I did not work alone, I had comrades, we fought, ate, slept, and traveled together. We often did jobs for nobles..." She spat in the street in revulsion, "Too many were like my family or my fiances, noble in name only. When a comrade died on the mission, those we risked ourselves for, rarely cared enough to even offer their condolences. We were nothing to them, tools to be used up and thrown away. I'm absolutely sure not one of them ever considered visiting a single servant that was injured while working for them. For you to do this... for even the common soldier... I cannot help but look at you this way. I can hardly believe you are real." Awe touched her voice and it was all she could do to not fall to her knees in the street.

"I see. Well, come along." He said patiently, "We may have all day, but that is no reason to dawdle." He said, and resumed his walk, despite his words, he walked slowly until the frozen Leinas gathered herself and ran after him.

Leinas kept one eye focused on him the entire time as her other scanned for any potential threats. 'It's pointless, anything that could threaten him, I can't even slow down... but I can give deference to him and enhance his image by appearing the perfect and devoted guard. Let others see that he has my loyalty, and that will be enough.' As she thought this, her already stiff back straightened even further and her solid steps were even more deliberate.

They walked that way until they came to a great, broad building surrounding by high walls, there was no gate, just an open walkway within, and Leinas looked around her with admiring eyes. A garden ran from one wall to the other, broken into two only by the straight path, and down that long path were many trees which swayed in the gentle breeze, their bright colors showing everything to be vibrant and alive.

"This one was built by Emperor Jircniv, modeled after what he saw on a visit to 'Illyana's House' where Neia currently resides. General Nimble oversaw its construction, and became one of its first patients. The employees are mostly young women in need of work, but they are closely screened for suitability." Ainz said, answering the unspoken question as they drew closer to the large stone building, cream colored marble greeted them, and a small set of stairs ascending up to large wooden double doors.

"I shouldn't be surprised. When visiting my injured soldiers who were treated with common means until a magic caster could come, many a brave young man or brave young woman, screamed for their mothers through their pain." Leinas remarked, and then a thought occurred to her.

"My Lord... may I ask a question, I... I don't want to pry, but it is something I've wondered, after reading all I did about the campaign in the Holy Kingdom, and in the south of the Slane Theocracy, and everything that happened. It is about 'her'." Leinas said with trepidation as they drew closer to the doors.

"Ask." Ainz said as he held his hand on the door, his voice solemn and uncertain. "Though I may refuse to answer."

Leinas's voice grew solemn as she looked over her shoulder at the spectacular vista within the walls, doubt was rich beneath the solemnity, as if afraid to ask, or afraid of the answer, she went on, "I heard about her... wounds. The ones inflicted on her by Remedios, the ones she bore at Prart, Wheaton, and elsewhere. When she couldn't move, couldn't fight, did she call for her mother too? Like so many others, do you know? It is just so hard to imagine...?"

"No. She did not." Ainz answered calmly. "While it is not for me to reveal why, no, she did not. Instead... she called for me." Though his tone was neutral, to the attuned Leinas, there seemed to be a tumult there that did not quite emerge from far beneath the surface.

'Is he 'really' undead?' Leinas wondered again as the silence stretched between them as he opened the door on his own.

...Synod Chamber...

"I tell you all, if he's not a god, then there are no gods!" Lakyus said from her place in the balcony. Her hand thrust out and she pointed to the assembly, she was standing with a foot forward, as if signalling a charge over the battlefield. 'It's like back then, charging over a field, why do I feel like she's in front of me again?' She thought, and for a moment her eyes were distant, she was not in the Synod, she was on the battlefield, a black cloak and a small woman in front of her sending arrows relentlessly forward and running hard enough it seemed she would catch up to her own loosed volleys of death. A stored bow, a raised sword, the passionate urgency to do 'more' and put down the past.

Then the moment was gone, and she saw another, Neia sitting beside her, with the rest of Blue Rose around a campfire, Skana ladling stew into bowls, CZ assembling her impossible weapon. 'Why do you ask what's next?' Neia asked her, 'It should be obvious. We go, we fight, we win, we remake this whole goddamn world, one word and one swing of the sword at a time. We break the breakers and topple tyrants and tear apart everything that shouldn't exist, and give this world the god it doesn't deserve. We do it because things have got to change. Things 'need' to change. No more Illyanas, no more Keenos in hiding, afraid to show themselves. We'll fight for a new world, a better world, and if killing or dying is what we've got to do, then we do either or both. Silly question.' Neia had said when Lakyus asked as she cleaned the blood of some poor fool off her cursed sword.

That moment passed as well, and she was in the Synod again, looking around her at the many priests. As she thought of that moment in the past, she recalled the passion in the Pope's words. She let her hand drop down and looked down with it momentarily. 'Then... I saw only her fanatical devotion to her god, but now... I get it, I can't believe I misunderstood so thoroughly...' She took a deep breath as the ghost of the war faded away, though she felt for a moment as if she heard Neia cheering her on as she used the pope's words in a modified form.

"The old gods did not make this world better, the new one does! Yes, there were deaths! But there were deaths before that! And for once, for perhaps the first time in history, death did not follow death! Our Lord, he has ended the strife! He has brought peace unimaginable! Elf and human and dwarf and vampire and naga and dragon and ogre and giant, and countless other beings... we all live together in harmony. Our children born today, will not know war! They will not know the fear that those who live a few hills over, might come to take their lives! The past is over! There is a New God that has risen over us, and he has given us a New World! Whosoever denies the obvious, must surely be blind!" Lakyus's voice rang out over the assembly to a hushed silence.

...Illyana's House...

Neia moved the brush delicately over the canvas, slowly bringing the scene to life.

"What are you painting?" Enlaith asked gently as she opened the door and approached.

Neia moved aside. The gentle blue of her robe felt good against her skin, soft and warm, she clutched it to her body as she took a step. Enlaith was wearing the white dress of a nurse with the green inner circle and the blue outer circle over her heart that marked her as a member of the staff.

"Nothing amazing." The Paladin said in a self deprecating way as she waved to the canvas with one hand. "Faces. Many faces, really."

Enlaith looked at the scene, a sea of faces at the base of a large building.

"Where is that?" Enlaith asked genuinely curious. The work was hardly masterful, but a teacher might call it 'acceptable'.

"This was inside of Prart, after the escape from Wenmark. We'd done much to get out with as many as we could, Remedios was in hot pursuit, it took a lot longer to get to safety than it should have... this was back before the siege. When I got back, with my... survivors, well we found Tinamoc had already made it. This was probably one of my greatest victories." Neia's voice went quiet, her lips pursed and turned down sadly.

"I... I went to the temple, our temple, and there Tinamoc greeted me with this." Neia's hand caressed the canvas lovingly, "I don't know if you heard about this one... but these... these had all been slaves. All of them, some of them lived in brothels, some of them were laborers, but they got to Prart and were free. They were safe. I got to embrace so many... the warmth still comforts me." Neia gave a somewhat bitter laugh.

"I hope they're all well, that they've made good lives and found a place to truly call home again. It is... comforting, to know that it wasn't for nothing. That was what I thought back then, that it wasn't for nothing." Neia moved away from the canvas and put the brush and paints aside, and went to her bed, and reached under it.

"Neia?" Enlaith asked hesitantly.

Neia ignored her, she drew another canvas out from under it, and held it up. "I did this one first, though."

There was only one face on it, bright and beautiful, with golden hair and a shining smile beneath bright eyes that were like endless pools of water. "Isn't she beautiful?" Neia asked as she turned the canvas around and held it facing up towards herself.

Her fingers moved over the canvas and lingered on the face at the woman's cheeks.

"She is, is that her? The one you talked about?" Enlaith asked as she approached the Pope and stood beside her, she looked down at the portrait. Copious effort had clearly gone into it.

Neia nodded anxiously.

"I did... that one over there," she inclined her head toward the one of the crowd, "to remind myself that this one here, didn't die for nothing. That none of them did, none of those who followed me, not even those I killed with my own hands." She set the portrait aside, putting it gently on a table and got down beside her bed again, and pulled out two more.

"I did these also." Neia said softly, and held them up, they were smaller, but the scene was stark. The faces of two terrified children, a boy and a girl, they were bound to demihumans that were charging ahead at the artist's perspective. Raw hatred on the faces of the demihuman warriors was obvious enough to make even Enlaith shudder.

"I killed those two children. I also killed the ones 'wearing' them as armor." Neia said gently. "They were just kids, little kids, and I gave the order to shoot, not just to shoot, but to shoot the children. Nobody might have done that, if not for my orders. My wife fell in love with me that day, watching me from down below, she had no idea what I was doing up there." Neia set those aside as well and sat down on the single bed, she didn't look up at her nurse.

"I still... I still know I don't want to die. I haven't forgotten what I first thought as soon as the attempt was over. But I still feel that... impulse. Like nothing can get better, like those I love best, even though they love me, are better off, safer, without me around. At the same time... I also just want to get better, I don't want it to hurt anymore. But shouldn't it? After all the pain I've caused, why should I be without it myself? Do I really have a right to get better even if I can?" Neia asked in a quiet, resigned voice.

Enlaith took all that in, and went to where Neia sat, and crouched down. She took the diminutive woman's hands in her own, they looked as hard and calloused as they felt. 'They're like steel.' Enlaith thought as she tore her eyes from them and looked up, so that the downward looking human woman was looking at her.

Enlaith spoke with patient slowness as she answered. "Lady Neia... the dead don't have any claim on the living. As long as you are alive, you have the right to make what life you can. You don't owe them your sadness, you don't owe them your happiness. I'm sure that Illyana wouldn't have wanted to see you like this anyway. As long as you're alive, you have a future, and what is more, you have a right to it! Just like every living person."

"May I tell you of a recurring nightmare that I have?" Neia asked anxiously as she wrung her hands together.

"Please." Enlaith said softly and covered Neia's hands with her own.

"I'm in a large open room with a group of people, the room we're in is a high, marble landing with rails the curve into long stairs to a long stone floor down below. We're just sitting there talking. As we discuss our lives, each time we talk about something wrong we've done, one after the other, the water level of the well rises up a little. When it finally comes to my turn, the level in the well rises and rises, it overflows. Not with water... it's red, it is blood, so much blood and I want to stop talking but I can't! I can't stop talking no matter how I try! The words continue to flow out, our seats begin to rise as we bob and float, but very little blood flows down the stairs, relative to how many words are pouring out of me. There is debris brought up from within the well, ugly, brown sticks, weeds, detritus... corpses. They flow slowly down the ornate steps. We're bobbing in the bloody lake I've made and I have fallen from my chair, and as I float toward the steps, I grab the rail, and I begin to shift back and forth, kicking, driving the blood downward over the steps and turning it into a waterfall of considerable power. I cling to the rail and continue to kick, driving the blood down, until the flow from the well stops when I myself have ceased to speak. All that remains above to prove that the blood came from where we were sitting, is the wet red stairs and wet red landing on which we sit. When I have told my story to its fullness of completion, there is peace again, but down below, the blood has settled into a great and widespread pool that does not drain but by drips and drops that leak from under the straining doors. I'm trapped up there, looking down, and cannot tear my eyes away, though I can feel the eyes of those I'm with, staring at me in judgement. Then... I wake up." Neia finished the long rant with a shaking body and glassed over eyes.

"I've not had a good night's sleep in... I don't know, since before Wheaton, maybe not since Yanana." Neia said tiredly and wiped her face. "And I don't know if I ever will again."

"I'm not going to lie to you, nobody knows how well things will work out, but I can promise you this, Neia Baraja." Enlaith said and rose so that she was even with the seated Neia, she cupped the woman's cheeks softly, "I can promise we're not going to quit trying, we're not going to give up on you, we're going to help you every step of the way. You don't stand alone, you've got our support every step of the way. Nobody is strong alone, no matter what the storybooks say, everyone who ever gained strength, did so with those who would help them get there. You don't have to stay quiet, you don't have to keep your feelings all to yourself, you don't have to hide your wounds in shame as if they were a blight. They're yours, as much as your face or your voice or your hands, and all of them should be accepted as such. Let us help you, and stop trying to stand by yourself."

Neia smiled weakly, "Alright... can I... maybe go to a group session?"

"Of course. I'll put you on the list for one taking place tomorrow morning, why don't you come with me for now, and we can walk the gardens." Enlaith suggested gently as she rose the rest of the way and stepped back, lightly tugging Neia's hands in invitation.

"I-I think I'd like that." Neia whispered as she let herself rise to her feet.