by V. A. Lewis
I parroted him. "And?"
He shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Then he murmured. "There are… rumors. Or speculation. That the reason why the Shadow’s Evangelium fell, was because… of your mother."
"Why—" I cut myself off. I did not care about that; not at this moment. "That doesn’t matter though."
"But it does matter," he countered. "Hrmph, some people think your mother betrayed the Evangelium. That she was the cause of its downfall. They’re a minority, but they do exist. They don’t trust you. I’m sure they are waiting to pounce on you if you show any weakness. And if you were to act against our cause, even just a little bit, I’m sure they would call you a traitor, just like your mother."
I stepped back, affronted. "I’m not going to betray anyone!"
"I know, I believe you. But these are the facts. I can only offer you support. But other than that, there is nothing you and I can do."
I looked at the Orc— really looked at him; he seemed upset, bothered by what he was asking of me. And yet, he still did it.
Was he pitying me? Trying to manipulate me? Or did he truly care for me? I did not know. I was overwhelmed, and so I whirled around and began to leave. Gerritt tried calling after me.
"Melas, wait! What are you going to—"
"I’m sorry, Gerritt. I just need some time to think," I spoke over him. "But I’m not going to keep quiet about this. This… it’s wrong. The others— they have to know."
The Orc wavered, and he did not stop me. "Just… don’t do anything you’ll regret," he said, as I exited the room.
I mumbled under my breath.
"Don’t worry, I won’t. I’m not an idiot."
Ihsan was not back yet, but I found Karna after a while. The Goblin seemed tired and was probably heading to bed— considering the events of today— but I still told him about what happened. What I saw.
Maybe I should have waited until tomorrow, when he was less exhausted; however I could not wait. I had to rant. Vent out my anger to someone who would not justify letting Victor do as he pleased.
At first, I felt vindicated; Karna was appalled when he heard about it, although he was not surprised. He expressed abhorrence similar to mine.
"Hm, I knew I never liked him. He is strong, but he does not carry himself the way one should."
"It’s terrible, right?" I asked meekly, just to confirm whether he agreed with me.
"Indeed," Karna said with a frown. "The Dark Acolyte’s reasoning is flawed; there is no justice in his actions, only pleasure. It is unacceptable."
"I know!" I exclaimed. Then I buried my face into my hands. "It’s disgusting… but when I told Gerritt about it, he told me we have to compromise. That it’s better this way," I said with a sigh.
The Goblin jerked. "The Commander knows about this?"
I nodded solemnly.
"Yes, Gerritt— and some of the Infernalis— are letting Victor do whatever he wants. Just as long as he does it to their enemies, it’s fine. But it’s not! It can’t be. You can’t excuse something so vile just because it benefits you."
"But that’s…" Karna hesitated. He lowered his head, an overcast expression on his face. "No, I do not understand the reasoning behind that. The Infernalis should not be allowing this."
He placed a hand on my shoulder, and I smiled for a moment; I was glad there was at least someone who agreed with me here. But I pushed the feeling aside, focusing on the task at hand.
"So what do we do, Karna?" I asked.
"I am… not sure."
"What do you mean? Is there really nothing we can do?" I asked pleadingly.
"If the Infernalis refuses to stop Disciple Victor, we can’t stop him," he said. I was about to protest, but he raised a finger and spoke over me. "But, that does not mean we stay idle. There is still one thing we can do, Melas."
I raised an eyebrow at that. "And that is?"
"We change the Infernalis," Karna stated.
"What?"
"The Infernalis is the one that is willing to overlook people like Victor. He may be an exception, but tell me: is he the only one?" He cocked a brow as he quizzed me.
The realization hit me and my eyes widened. "There are more like Victor?"
"Exactly," Karna said, his eyes glowing more than just its usual yellow. "This is not an isolated problem. There is no single unique individual in the world, and the Dark Crusaders have very many members. So the chances that he is the only Dark Acolyte receiving this special treatment is incredibly low. I’m not saying every Dark Acolyte is treated that way, but there has to be at least dozens more like him."
Karna had to be right; things like this might not always have been endemic, but it certainly was not the only time it happened. "So what can we do? How do we change the Infernalis?"
"We have to get stronger, of course."
"How would that help?" My lips curled downwards into a frown. "Are you suggesting we kill him?"
"No"— the Goblin stared at me with a blank face— "Absolutely not, why would you even think that?"
He sighed as I shuffled my feet uncomfortably at my own suggestion.
"If we become stronger, we can become a part of the Infernalis. There, we can change it from the inside. Fix all the problems within the Dark Crusaders. Not just with this, but there are many flaws— problems that need to be addressed— that are left unaddressed. I’ve always believed in doing that."
"But that’s… how long will that take?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer.
"It will take time," he said. "But, if we become an Apostle, we’ll be part of the Infernalis and able to enact change. Convince others to listen to us. And do more than what we’re doing right now. And it could even take less time, since some Disciples are allowed into the Infernalis too. It depends. But it’s all the same in the end."
"So what do we do until then? Just let it continue happening? Do I just ignore what’s going on right in front of me?" I glared at Karna, as I waited expectantly for his response.
He looked down at his palms, and slowly balled it into a fist. "These injustices, they should not— no, they can not— be tolerated. It reviles me, knowing that people like Victor are committing such acts while pretending to be a Dark Crusader. And it angers me, knowing that my people are treated with contempt across the world too. But all these feelings— I use it to give me strength. To make me stronger, so I can do something about it."
He wanted to fix the problem from the inside, and prevent it from happening again. It made sense: that would help a lot of people. But still, that solution did not satisfy me.
"I don’t think I can do that, Karna. It’s… too much for me."
The Goblin walked up to me, and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Then I’ll give you the strength you need. After all, we’re friends, right?"
I stared at Karna, and I saw his resolve, his determination to do what he believed was right. And I agreed with him. I was grateful to him for trying to help. So I smiled. But…
There is still something.
Later that night, I could not sleep. I tossed and turned in bed, even though I knew it never helped with falling asleep. I could not stop thinking about that young woman— the Captain in charge of Fort Conon.
I was nothing like her: she was a soldier, while I was a slave; she was from this world, while I was from another; she had been raped, while I have only had nightmares of it. And yet, I felt for her.
It was not because she was a girl. There was more to this than being the same sex as her. And it certainly was not because we were both Humans. If I found a Beastkin or a Goblin in the same situation, I knew I’d be as equally reviled.
It was like torture. But even torture had a goal. This was senseless torture. An act only to derive pleasure for Victor.
There was no logic behind it; no justifications for it.
Gerritt told me to compromise. To give up some of my values to benefit as many people as possible. I could see his logic in that.
Karna
told me to change the Dark Crusaders. Climb my way up the hierarchy of the Infernalis, and end the system which enabled innocents from being hurt, obviating any future suffering. I could see the justification behind that. But there was something still there. Something which I saw, that they did not. And that was:
Victor. And he stood over a young woman and—
I saw the young woman suffering, but they didn’t. In a literal and figurative sense, they did not see what I saw. That allowed them to see something else— to gain a different perspective from me.
But I saw what I saw.
I liked Gerritt, Karna, Ihsan, and I had liked even Victor— despite his actions. I had to change him. Maybe with a compromise. Whatever it was, I just had to stop him from doing it ever again.
So if a compromise was necessary, then let Gerritt compromise. If change was necessary, then let Karna bring about change.
They were not wrong; they were right in their own way.
And I was right too. She was suffering. That was evinced by the look on her face.
So I had to stop it; put an end to her suffering. I was not an idiot. I was hoping— praying to any god who would listen to me— that this went smoothly. I knew that if this went badly, I would make an enemy out of the Dark Crusaders.
But still, I have to help her, I told myself.
Help her? Why would I do that?
Because I can help her.
But why?
To help her.
It was a circular reasoning; flawed in many ways. But she was right in front of me.
I couldn’t help it. I had to do something.
And as I stood alone amongst the growing fire; as the young woman and the other prisoners made their escape; as Victor stepped into the burning building, approaching me with unbridled rage, I finally knew...
It was the right decision.
Chapter 37: The Right Decision
I stood amidst the flames as the wooden building collapsed around me. The fire was scorching through the entire structure, tearing down the walls of the dungeon.
It was hot. Raging. Burning. But it did not touch me. It engulfed everything in its path, but was staved away by my magic.
I could have left. I could have joined the young woman and the other prisoners when I freed them. They looked apprehensive; slightly afraid of me. But they were grateful. They were even willing to bring me with them.
And yet, I chose not to go with them.
Instead, I stood here. Because I was waiting.
I was not going to run. I made my decision, and I was going to stick to it. So I waited.
And he came.
***
Victor was annoyed.
What should have been some good alone time was quickly soured the moment Melas found him. She got mad at him, and stormed off— ignoring everything he had to say!
The problem was that she should not have been there.
It was not his fault that she was there. He had made it explicitly clear that he was not to be disturbed. But because Gerritt was incompetent, the Dark Acolyte now lost favor with the girl.
Everything he did to get her to join the Dark Crusaders was now ruined because of that. He had already told some of his higher ups in the Infernalis that Melas was going to be under his tutelage, which would’ve elevated his position more. But now, they would think he was a fool.
Victor had to deal with that. Somehow. Someway. He would have to get Melas to see things from his perspective. After all, what he was doing was not wrong.
It was vengeance. A noble goal. One that was worth pursuing in life.
That Captain was probably a slaver. This was the Free Lands, after all. And even if she wasn’t one, she enforced rules that protected slavery. It was prevalent here, right? And if it wasn’t, she definitely subscribed to the belief that magic was evil. If a spellcaster were being persecuted in front of her, Victor was certain she would simply let it happen. So Melas should be grateful to him for exacting justice against her.
The Captain deserved this. They deserved this. And more than that, if he was allowed to feel pleasure in doing good, then was that not better?
Victor was not to blame. He knew that, despite Melas’s chagrin. He just had to get her to see it his way. That was what he thought when he went to sleep.
But when he woke up, his mood only worsened.
There was… a fire?
Yes. The smell of smoke, soot, and ash came into his room. That should not have been unusual— they were burning the bodies of the dead. But this felt different. It felt like… magic.
Magical flames roared in the distance, and Victor could sense it. Fire ran ablaze, and was continuously being fed by someone’s magic. It burned more than it should have burnt. Bigger than it should have been.
And the Dark Acolyte could feel it only growing larger. Because it was not a natural fire, but one started and exacerbated by magic. And still, this should not have been much of a problem.
However, where it came from— now that was a problem.
Victor ran out of his room, out into the courtyard of Fort Conon. He saw Goblins streaming out of the large stone structure too, confused by what they were sensing and smelling, with eyes widening at what they were seeing.
A fire raged at one of the buildings. It was not the main body of the fortress. That was not flammable as it was made of stone and brick. Instead, the dungeon was completely engulfed in flames.
The Dark Acolyte stared. His brows snapped together, shock written all over his face. Then it slowly changed, morphing into that of anger at the realization of what happened.
"Gerritt. Where is Melas?!"
Victor stormed past the Goblins surrounding the Commander. He shoved aside a disbelieving Karna, and shouted.
"The Fiend’s daughter, where is she?" He pointed at the burning building. "And what happened? Who did this?!"
Gerritt straightened, and faced the young man. "She’s not here. I—" The Orc hesitated, but eventually continued. "I have not seen her. But I got reports. From the guards at the prison."
"What did they say? Hurry up and tell me!" Victor nearly screamed.
"It was… Melas." There were a few gasps, and Karna’s head snapped up. But Victor did not look surprised.
"They said she came in, and threatened them," Gerrit said. "Chased them out, taking the keys to free the prisoners— all of them." He emphasized the last part.
Karna spoke up uncertainly. "She wouldn’t do that. Melas wouldn’t betray us—"
Victor interrupted him. "Where is she now? She couldn’t have gotten far."
"We don’t think she left with the prisoners. I think… she’s in there," Gerritt said. Then he faced the young man. "The prisoners have a head start, and I’m not sure if we can get all of them back. If they— what are you doing?"
Victor ignored Gerritt. He was already walking away. Towards the fire. Towards the burning building. Towards Melas.
"Victor," the Orc called out. "With all due respect, I think there are other things we should focus on. If we don’t stop all the prisoners from escaping, we’ll be compromised and forced to leave in a few days. We should either take what we can and return to our camp before Ihsan and the others—"
"Be silent," the Dark Acolyte snapped. "Leave me. Go and return to the camp and wait for me— that’s an order."
Gerritt paused. He frowned, narrowing his eyes. "...affirmative. But, what are you going to do?"
"She betrayed us," Victor said simply, his calm voice hiding his intense fury. "Look at what she has done. That Fiend’s daughter. It’s as you said, she ruined everything. And now you ask me what I’m going to do? Isn’t it obvious?"
Victor stopped only to look at Gerritt for a moment. He opened his mouth and spoke one word.
"Vengeance."
Then he stepped into the raging flames.
Victor came, wading through the fire. It was not hard— he specialized in fire magic, even if he were still a generalist. He raised his staff, a
nd the flames kept back. Almost as if the blazing inferno itself were afraid of him.
But he was not afraid of her. He saw the child standing in the middle of the burning room. The black haired girl was waiting. Her silver eyes flickered up at him.
"Victor," she spoke softly. And yet, it was clearly audible despite the roaring fire in the background. "We need to—"
She was cut off as the fire danced. Then it snapped at her. Almost as if it were some kind of a whip. She stepped back, and pointed at the fire.
The Dark Acolyte felt his control over the fire disappear. The flames dissipated in the air. Like fire without fuel, flying through a vacuum before getting snuffed out.
Dispel Magic?
Victor narrowed his eyes. He slowly lowered his staff, as the girl continued, voice full of desperation.
"Victor, please," Melas pleaded. "I need to speak with you."
"You need to speak with me?" he asked, almost amused. He slowly brought one hand behind his back as he continued. "After betraying us, do you really think you have the right to do that?"
"Yes," she answered without hesitation. Her gaze bore into him, and she stood firm. "I freed the prisoners. But only to save them so they won’t suffer because of you."
"Suffer?" Victor laughed. "They only got what they deserved. They. Are. Slavers. The same one that did that to you."
He gestured at her face. And she instinctively winced. But she continued.
"You don’t know that. You know nothing about them or what they’ve done, and you’re delivering their sentence? Claiming that it is justice? That’s… wrong."
"Wrong?" Victor shook his head. "Pathetic," he spat. "Is that really what you’re going for? After I saved your life— helped you through so much— this is how you repay me? You really are all the same, aren’t you?"
Melas grimaced. But she ignored that end comment.
"Victor, you saved my life. I was beaten down and had nothing at that point, but you gave me a home. A place to stay. I truly am grateful for that. That’s why I wanted to make it up to you— but this?" she said slowly, gesturing vaguely behind her. "I can’t allow it."
