Day 347

Day 347

“You look worse than an oni's husband.”

“Thanks.”
Cathyn slowly works her way around the edge of her bowl of mint jelly.  “Hey, it's not my fault that you do.”
“Tell me what's wrong.”  The elven girl once again manages to sneak up on the table.  It was startling once.  Now, though, we're both used to it.
“It's nothing.  Restless sleep.  Bad dreams.”  That was supposed to make them less interested.  Instead I find myself getting stared at more.  “It's nothing.”

Finding myself wanting to change the subject, I note “I'll be leaving Min soon.”
“Funny, I was going to say the same.”  Cathyn makes the same effort I am – to somehow look as though she's completely disinterested in what she's saying.
The owner is less than delighted about the news.  She produces some horrible mixture of a human whine and the pitiful noise of a depressed puppy.  “You two're my best customers, though!  What'm I s'posed to do without you?”
“What you were doing before we started coming.”
“That was super boring though!”
Cathyn furrows her brow before glancing over to the fey child.  “We're not your only customers, though.  Right?”

I turn to look at her myself.

“You know, I'm sure I'll manage,” she says, smiling unconvincingly and glancing elsewhere.

“Well, it's none of my business.”  I place a few more coins than proper payment on the table and push off from the old, wooden chair.
The words catch me before I can leave.  “You'll be back, right?”
Part of me just wants to keep walking, but I don't.  “Yeah.  I'll come back here someday.”

I am willing to sacrifice my honor for her happiness.  I didn't know that about myself.

---

There is nothing in this world to envy.

That was one of the first lessons that I remember clearly from my training.  The clarity of it was somehow satisfying after the loss of my parents.  The message was concise enough to be wholly understandable even to the mind of a child.  Whatever it is that you think is of value, or worth aspiring to – it isn't.  Nothing anyone else possesses is worthy of your admiration or desire.  This world is filth, and we roll in it for a time, but we should never love it.

I wonder if it wasn't the most horrific of holdovers from the Order.

I'm staring at the sign of the Government Lethal Chamber.  It was clever of them to build it without disclosing what it was at first.  Just a government construction job for some small structure, nothing to see here.  It means that nothing happened until after the sign went up.
“I still can't believe it.”
I look back up toward Myria.  “Why?”
She looks at me with horror in her eyes.  It has faded since I arrived, but it's still there.  The quiet sort of horror that lasts with you no matter how long you grapple with it.  “What do you mean, why?  They're going to kill people.”
“They're going to help people to die.  Don't say that there isn't a difference,” I say, cutting off her rebuttal.  “All humans die in time.  If they can no longer bear life anymore, then it falls to those who care for them to help them rest.”

“I can't accept that,” she says, finally.
“An odd thing to hear from a race of so-called warriors.”  She gives me a look at that, angry, or hurt, or both.  “You're right – that was cruel of me.  Still, what would you ask of those for whom life has grown too burdensome to bear?  That they continue onward in spite of that, for your own comfort's sake?”
She has no answer to that.

We sit in silence again, for a time, and again she is the one to break it.  “What will happen?”
“Nothing.  For a time.  No one wants to be the first person to use it, it seems, so we will likely have a couple weeks where it simply sits there.  An offer, made to no one in particular.  When someone does come, it will be in the middle of the night.  No one wants to be seen to use it either, it seems.  Or perhaps it is simply human nature to want to not burden others with our passing.”
“And then,” she asks hesitantly.
“And then it falls to the living to ensure that they receive their proper care.  The system will alert the local morgue, and their body will be attended to with proper care.  If there is any family, they will be notified.”

“And life just,” she pauses, “continues?”  The amazon looks away from the structure, down on me.  She seems small.
“That's the last thing the living can do for the dead.  It would be insanity to spread suffering to mark a passing intended to end suffering.  So shed no tears, and pay it no mind.  That's the kindness you can offer those who walk through those doors.”
“Why,” she whispers.

“Why do you sound like you're thinking of going in there?”  Her eyes lock onto my own.
“I'm not.”
“You swear it?”
“I do.”
“Then why do you sound like that?”
“A paladin should be ready to die.  Or do you not see what's about my neck?”
It's not a lie, but it's not the truth, either.  Still, after a moment it seems to be sufficient.  Her gaze returns to the object of her frustration.  “I hate it here.  This culture – it's sick, and I don't know how to fix it.”

“You know, I thought the same thing when I first arrived.”  And with that, we're both alone with our thoughts again.  It strikes me that the street feels more empty than usual.  Much of the city seems quieter now.  Perhaps that's simply the effect of where I am and what I'm staring out.  The monsters might just be avoiding this place now.  Or perhaps this one building will serve as a deterrent more than I have ever managed.  Does that wound my pride, I wonder, to know that a simple brick structure could be more horrifying than myself?

Tired of my own thoughts, and the silent city around me, I break the silence this time.  “What will you do now?”
“I'm going to stop whoever tries to go in there.”
“That's illegal.”
“I won't,” she starts.  “I won't get in their way.  But I'll stop them.  I'll think of something.  I'll tell them that if their lives are worthless to them, then I'll take it.  I'll cherish them.”
“And the next one?  And the one after that?”
“I'll organize a watch.  We'll always have someone  right here.  Someone ready to claim whoever shows up.”  Quietly, ever so quietly, she adds “no one will go in there without at least the offer.”

“Okay.”  I get up, stretch my back, and head off.  There's nothing I need to do here.  There's nothing I want to change.

She seems, in this moment, more a hero to me than I have ever been.

The lessons of my youth return to my thoughts; how they always readied us to accept death, should the sacrifice of more young men become necessary in the future.  The collar around my neck makes me into something disposable – a piece of ammo to be fired at monsters.  Years of training made me all but giddy to become such.  And yet, I don't regret this.  It seems to me right and proper that some should be willing to die.  And if anyone has to serve that role, better I than any other.  For me at least, that old phrase is truth.

There is nothing in this world to envy.

---

The sky is ash.  The streets are ash.  Tiny pieces of bone crunch underfoot as I advance on the building before me.  I have been here before.  Rather, I've seen this dream before.

I recognize the city.  Even shattered, there can be no mistaking Megalos, not for any other city in the world.  In horror and stillness and desolation, it yet still seems proud to me.

“Why?  Why do you show me this.  Explain that much, at least.”
The answer comes from all around me, as though each mote ash responded with one voice “It is simply a promise, paladin.  Nothing more or less.”
“Megalos will not fall to you, demon.”
“It will, or you will.  Your decision.  I will await your answer here.”

Just as soon as I hear the words, I recognize this place.  One of the old insulae – a residence hall.  Hundreds of people live here.
“Then I will end you on your own terms.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could have sworn I saw Cathyn, but there is only more ash.  Regret, perhaps?  Guilt, for the lies?
Now isn't the time.  If I've guilt later, I will set things right.  If I'm still alive to do so.

Tomorrow, Megalos.