We had spent enough time in the temple to have a solid idea about how much foot traffic we could expect on our way to the High Priest’s bedroom, and our expectations were met. We were able to make it all the way without having to pretend we still belonged there.
The last hurdle were two Fighters guarding the room, but the dark hallway they stood in provided ample cover for us to get very close. We then repeated our previous act of me posing as a divine being, and through rain and gloom, they, too, fell to Reurig and Berla’s surprise attack.
They proceeded to quickly barge into the bedroom, while the rest of us hurried after them. From inside I could briefly make out a confused, “Huh? What is—”, which immediately turned into a desperate, unintelligible mumbling. Bren and Taul dragged the guards inside and then took their positions as guards in the hallway.
Glancing around, I made sure that nobody had been alerted by the noises, but everything seemed peaceful. I finally stepped into the room and Bren carefully closed the door behind me.
Orthur was lying on his bed, his arms pinned to it from both sides and a hand preventing him from crying out. His eyes were full of confusion as they fell on the shadow in front of him. He squinted in an attempt to identify me, but it was so dark around the door that he couldn’t have made out more than an outline.
“Hey Orthur,” I said, wondering whether he would recognize my voice.
Last time I talked to him, I was still Lilly, and didn’t recall whether he had even heard Tomar before. I took it as confirmation when he began struggling, his confusion turning to rage.
I walked up to the bed’s end and looked down at him. Thinking back on it, many of our hardships were in a way initiated by this guy. Oryn had willingly inflicted pain on Tomar and Riala, but the High Priest was the one who sent him, and this spiraled into us fleeing Alarna. That turned into a manhunt he had a hand in as well, and he even sent agents alone into the Wildlands to capture us, risking Reurig’s life. If Orthur hadn’t been, things might’ve gone differently.
What I found particularly fascinating about this, was that we had never even properly met, aside from a brief encounter in a prison cell. This pain in my ass always called the shots from somewhere up atop his high horse. Before we continued, I felt a need to change this.
I nodded at Reurig and he used one hand to hold a dagger to Orthur’s throat, who stopped struggling abruptly.
“I’d like to have a quick chat,” I said. “You shouldn’t make a fuss, or you’ll face a painful death. We will get out of here either way, so screaming will be relatively pointless, and if you annoy me too much, I’ll make you suffer needlessly. Nod if you understand.”
He gulped audibly, his eyes wide. Moving his head slowly, he accepted. Berla removed her hand from his mouth, revealing a furious grimace, like a beast baring its teeth.
“What’s the meaning of this?” he spat.
“We heard of your latest endeavors. Still trying to get your hands on a mana user, hm?”
“That hardly concerns you. You’ve been exiled! Get out of Alarna!”
“I guess that response was to be expected,” I said with an irritated sigh. “Your attitude really irks me, you know? Not because you’re being an asshole, but because I don’t understand you acting all high and mighty even in this situation. What’s going on in that brain of yours to make you think you’re special?”
He stared silently at me, thinking his response over. To my surprise, it came out much calmer than any word I heard him utter before.
“Perhaps you can be forgiven for not understanding,” he mumbled. “A commoner with no connections, brainwashed by the Rulers’ skewed version of history. My ancestors made this town, young man. We served it for centuries, devoting our lives to it. The Varants might get the glory, but without the temple, this town would cease functioning in due time. What makes me special? I’m keeping this town alive!”
I frowned at the stupidity. “Are you serious? You’re doing a job. You’re managing a few important departments in this town, but you’re not some kind of savior. There’s dozens if not hundreds of people in this town who could take over for you in a heartbeat. Who do you think did your job while you were in prison?”
“Hah,” he scoffed. “A devoted servant of the gods of course. I didn’t consider Lilly proper High Priest material before, but evidently she did well enough for a time. If you hadn’t murdered her, you might still be in power.”
Standing in silence for a moment, I mulled over his words. “Huh,” I said eventually. “That’s what went wrong then? The gods didn’t support our rule? That makes sense... They had no reason to favor us after Lilly was gone.”
“Now you see,” he said, a happy glint in his eyes. “The temple’s existence and our continued devotion is what keeps the beasts at bay. That’s how it’s always been and always shall be. You have undoubtedly heard about my Hope, and her effect on the beast population. The gods blessed us! It was a sign that we were to finally take back power!”
I nodded in understanding. “Mhm. In that case you didn’t have a choice. We left, we took Aelene with us, and Oryn isn’t at a point where he alone could do anything. To do the will of the gods, you have to make sacrifices.”
“You are not as daft as you appear, Mister Remor.” The High Priest seemed content. “The gods have spoken, and it is our duty to follow their will.”
“Yea... A few slight problems. Aelene didn’t become a mana user because anyone blessed you guys, but because Oryn was being an idiot who didn’t understand what he was doing, just like me. And her mana kept beasts aways because that’s what mana does. It wasn’t a blessing either. The gods are also trying to kill her, as well as us, because they believe our existence to be a mistake. Oh, and Lilana wasn’t the one who did your job. It was me. The entire time.”
Orthur stared at me, stone faced. “You? What do you mean by that?”
“Remember when we asked you about Split Ones?” I replied with a smirk.
Realization washed over him. “I knew it... The signs were there... You are one of them! A monster! And you stole Lilly’s consciousness as well!” With that, Orthur began struggling again, addressing the agents holding him. “You two! He’s an evil spirit who takes over people and beasts, turning them into intelligent monsters who crave nothing but chaos and grief! He’s the same as Arax!”
The amused grin I wore after he called me an evil spirit disappeared in a flash when he mentioned the silver wolf. “Wait, what? Arax was a Split One? That’s where you got that term from?”
“Hurry!” he pleaded, ignoring me. “Let me go and get him! There’s no telling what he will do if nobody stops him!”
I raised my voice slightly to get his attention. “Orthur! I told you not to make a fuss, remember? Calm down.”
Instead of following my advice, his voice grew louder. “If only one of these useless priests had been worthy to receive the power! Then you would not be this cocky, you monster! You will regret this! Mark my words, the gods will— Mh! Mhhmhhmh!”
Berlas hand over his mouth stopped his ramblings.
“How far removed from reality can you be?” I asked, exasperated and angry.
I wasn’t sure what I hoped to get out of talking to him. Maybe, deep down, I wanted to believe that there was a sensible mind behind all his bullshit after all. He actually was convinced that he was a gift to humanity though, and that all others should bow before him just because he existed. There was no turning this around. Not in a reasonable amount of time anyway, nor before he would try to do more harm to innocent people. My initial instinct had been the right one.
“Maybe the gods will get to me someday,” I said, “but for the time being, we’ll clear a stain they don’t have on their radar.”
“Hm!? Mhmmhhhhm!”
I gave a signal to Reurig and Berla and they fixed his head in place. Orthur’s struggles intensified, but he was entirely powerless against the two Fighters.
Pointing my script-riddled hands at him, a small sphere of water appeared above his face, and I carefully moved until it was right above his forehead, like a laser sight searching for its target. He squinted at it in horror.
“Bye Orthur.”
The water extended into a tiny stream and punctured a hole clean through his head. From one moment to the next, his fight ended. His facial features relaxed and the light faded from his eyes. Reurig and Berla let go of his still body, stepping away from the bed.
As I stared at him lying there, I saw Berla approach me in my peripheral vision, wiping her hand clean on her pants. “Are you okay?” she asked.
I didn’t take my eyes off of him right away. “Yea. I’m not happy about this, but I don’t regret it. Honestly, I feel worse about making you guys be here with me than the act itself.”
“Don’t worry about us,” Reurig said. “I’ve been present at a few executions, but it’s the first time it hit someone who truly deserves it.”
Looking between them, Berla nodded in affirmation. “Shouldn’t we have tried to get more about Arax out of him though?” she asked.
“It didn’t seem like he would say any more. And Arax is dead anyway,” I said, before realizing why she had asked. “Sorry that you didn’t get more information for your research.”
“No, you’re probably right. I’ll categorize her as is, while keeping it in mind.”
Our collective glances fell on Orthur again. “Alright,” I said. “Let’s finish up here and leave this fucking place. Maybe for good this time.”
Due to Orthur’s struggling, his bed was a bit of a mess, which didn’t match the story I wanted to tell. We moved to tidy up, smoothing the linen and tucking him back in. After we were done, one might’ve thought he had died in his sleep if it weren’t for the open eyes, mouth, and forehead.
Standing by the door, we looked back at him a final time. “One death for the lives of many,” Berla whispered.
Every time she said something like this, a chill ran down my spine. The sentiment made perfect sense, but I always thought about how Alarna had become the way it was. There must’ve been a point in time when someone thought to themselves that they would kill one person for the greater good. Just one, and the world would become a better, safer place. That hadn’t been the end though, and I was wary of us falling into the same trap. The more powerful we became, the easier this solution would seem. And in fact, I felt the convenience already. This couldn’t be the goal.
I aimed at Orthur once more, activating another script this time. A stream of water shot from above his head up into the air, through the ceiling and the roof, into the nightly sky. The play was complete.
We had spent enough time in the temple to have a solid idea about how much foot traffic we could expect on our way to the High Priest’s bedroom, and our expectations were met. We were able to make it all the way without having to pretend we still belonged there.
The last hurdle were two Fighters guarding the room, but the dark hallway they stood in provided ample cover for us to get very close. We then repeated our previous act of me posing as a divine being, and through rain and gloom, they, too, fell to Reurig and Berla’s surprise attack.
They proceeded to quickly barge into the bedroom, while the rest of us hurried after them. From inside I could briefly make out a confused, “Huh? What is—”, which immediately turned into a desperate, unintelligible mumbling. Bren and Taul dragged the guards inside and then took their positions as guards in the hallway.
Glancing around, I made sure that nobody had been alerted by the noises, but everything seemed peaceful. I finally stepped into the room and Bren carefully closed the door behind me.
Orthur was lying on his bed, his arms pinned to it from both sides and a hand preventing him from crying out. His eyes were full of confusion as they fell on the shadow in front of him. He squinted in an attempt to identify me, but it was so dark around the door that he couldn’t have made out more than an outline.
“Hey Orthur,” I said, wondering whether he would recognize my voice.
Last time I talked to him, I was still Lilly, and didn’t recall whether he had even heard Tomar before. I took it as confirmation when he began struggling, his confusion turning to rage.
I walked up to the bed’s end and looked down at him. Thinking back on it, many of our hardships were in a way initiated by this guy. Oryn had willingly inflicted pain on Tomar and Riala, but the High Priest was the one who sent him, and this spiraled into us fleeing Alarna. That turned into a manhunt he had a hand in as well, and he even sent agents alone into the Wildlands to capture us, risking Reurig’s life. If Orthur hadn’t been, things might’ve gone differently.
What I found particularly fascinating about this, was that we had never even properly met, aside from a brief encounter in a prison cell. This pain in my ass always called the shots from somewhere up atop his high horse. Before we continued, I felt a need to change this.
I nodded at Reurig and he used one hand to hold a dagger to Orthur’s throat, who stopped struggling abruptly.
“I’d like to have a quick chat,” I said. “You shouldn’t make a fuss, or you’ll face a painful death. We will get out of here either way, so screaming will be relatively pointless, and if you annoy me too much, I’ll make you suffer needlessly. Nod if you understand.”
He gulped audibly, his eyes wide. Moving his head slowly, he accepted. Berla removed her hand from his mouth, revealing a furious grimace, like a beast baring its teeth.
“What’s the meaning of this?” he spat.
“We heard of your latest endeavors. Still trying to get your hands on a mana user, hm?”
“That hardly concerns you. You’ve been exiled! Get out of Alarna!”
“I guess that response was to be expected,” I said with an irritated sigh. “Your attitude really irks me, you know? Not because you’re being an asshole, but because I don’t understand you acting all high and mighty even in this situation. What’s going on in that brain of yours to make you think you’re special?”
He stared silently at me, thinking his response over. To my surprise, it came out much calmer than any word I heard him utter before.
“Perhaps you can be forgiven for not understanding,” he mumbled. “A commoner with no connections, brainwashed by the Rulers’ skewed version of history. My ancestors made this town, young man. We served it for centuries, devoting our lives to it. The Varants might get the glory, but without the temple, this town would cease functioning in due time. What makes me special? I’m keeping this town alive!”
I frowned at the stupidity. “Are you serious? You’re doing a job. You’re managing a few important departments in this town, but you’re not some kind of savior. There’s dozens if not hundreds of people in this town who could take over for you in a heartbeat. Who do you think did your job while you were in prison?”
“Hah,” he scoffed. “A devoted servant of the gods of course. I didn’t consider Lilly proper High Priest material before, but evidently she did well enough for a time. If you hadn’t murdered her, you might still be in power.”
Standing in silence for a moment, I mulled over his words. “Huh,” I said eventually. “That’s what went wrong then? The gods didn’t support our rule? That makes sense... They had no reason to favor us after Lilly was gone.”
“Now you see,” he said, a happy glint in his eyes. “The temple’s existence and our continued devotion is what keeps the beasts at bay. That’s how it’s always been and always shall be. You have undoubtedly heard about my Hope, and her effect on the beast population. The gods blessed us! It was a sign that we were to finally take back power!”
I nodded in understanding. “Mhm. In that case you didn’t have a choice. We left, we took Aelene with us, and Oryn isn’t at a point where he alone could do anything. To do the will of the gods, you have to make sacrifices.”
“You are not as daft as you appear, Mister Remor.” The High Priest seemed content. “The gods have spoken, and it is our duty to follow their will.”
“Yea... A few slight problems. Aelene didn’t become a mana user because anyone blessed you guys, but because Oryn was being an idiot who didn’t understand what he was doing, just like me. And her mana kept beasts aways because that’s what mana does. It wasn’t a blessing either. The gods are also trying to kill her, as well as us, because they believe our existence to be a mistake. Oh, and Lilana wasn’t the one who did your job. It was me. The entire time.”
Orthur stared at me, stone faced. “You? What do you mean by that?”
“Remember when we asked you about Split Ones?” I replied with a smirk.
Realization washed over him. “I knew it... The signs were there... You are one of them! A monster! And you stole Lilly’s consciousness as well!” With that, Orthur began struggling again, addressing the agents holding him. “You two! He’s an evil spirit who takes over people and beasts, turning them into intelligent monsters who crave nothing but chaos and grief! He’s the same as Arax!”
The amused grin I wore after he called me an evil spirit disappeared in a flash when he mentioned the silver wolf. “Wait, what? Arax was a Split One? That’s where you got that term from?”
“Hurry!” he pleaded, ignoring me. “Let me go and get him! There’s no telling what he will do if nobody stops him!”
I raised my voice slightly to get his attention. “Orthur! I told you not to make a fuss, remember? Calm down.”
Instead of following my advice, his voice grew louder. “If only one of these useless priests had been worthy to receive the power! Then you would not be this cocky, you monster! You will regret this! Mark my words, the gods will— Mh! Mhhmhhmh!”
Berlas hand over his mouth stopped his ramblings.
“How far removed from reality can you be?” I asked, exasperated and angry.
I wasn’t sure what I hoped to get out of talking to him. Maybe, deep down, I wanted to believe that there was a sensible mind behind all his bullshit after all. He actually was convinced that he was a gift to humanity though, and that all others should bow before him just because he existed. There was no turning this around. Not in a reasonable amount of time anyway, nor before he would try to do more harm to innocent people. My initial instinct had been the right one.
“Maybe the gods will get to me someday,” I said, “but for the time being, we’ll clear a stain they don’t have on their radar.”
“Hm!? Mhmmhhhhm!”
I gave a signal to Reurig and Berla and they fixed his head in place. Orthur’s struggles intensified, but he was entirely powerless against the two Fighters.
Pointing my script-riddled hands at him, a small sphere of water appeared above his face, and I carefully moved until it was right above his forehead, like a laser sight searching for its target. He squinted at it in horror.
“Bye Orthur.”
The water extended into a tiny stream and punctured a hole clean through his head. From one moment to the next, his fight ended. His facial features relaxed and the light faded from his eyes. Reurig and Berla let go of his still body, stepping away from the bed.
As I stared at him lying there, I saw Berla approach me in my peripheral vision, wiping her hand clean on her pants. “Are you okay?” she asked.
I didn’t take my eyes off of him right away. “Yea. I’m not happy about this, but I don’t regret it. Honestly, I feel worse about making you guys be here with me than the act itself.”
“Don’t worry about us,” Reurig said. “I’ve been present at a few executions, but it’s the first time it hit someone who truly deserves it.”
Looking between them, Berla nodded in affirmation. “Shouldn’t we have tried to get more about Arax out of him though?” she asked.
“It didn’t seem like he would say any more. And Arax is dead anyway,” I said, before realizing why she had asked. “Sorry that you didn’t get more information for your research.”
“No, you’re probably right. I’ll categorize her as is, while keeping it in mind.”
Our collective glances fell on Orthur again. “Alright,” I said. “Let’s finish up here and leave this fucking place. Maybe for good this time.”
Due to Orthur’s struggling, his bed was a bit of a mess, which didn’t match the story I wanted to tell. We moved to tidy up, smoothing the linen and tucking him back in. After we were done, one might’ve thought he had died in his sleep if it weren’t for the open eyes, mouth, and forehead.
Standing by the door, we looked back at him a final time. “One death for the lives of many,” Berla whispered.
Every time she said something like this, a chill ran down my spine. The sentiment made perfect sense, but I always thought about how Alarna had become the way it was. There must’ve been a point in time when someone thought to themselves that they would kill one person for the greater good. Just one, and the world would become a better, safer place. That hadn’t been the end though, and I was wary of us falling into the same trap. The more powerful we became, the easier this solution would seem. And in fact, I felt the convenience already. This couldn’t be the goal.
I aimed at Orthur once more, activating another script this time. A stream of water shot from above his head up into the air, through the ceiling and the roof, into the nightly sky. The play was complete.
