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The occasional scream still echoes through the forest, though less frequent and greatly diminished. The raised voices are filled with doubt and dismay, where before there was a barbarous anger. Though you don’t intend to go looking for the source of the noise, you gradually find yourself following one of the hoarse, faltering voices. There, in the shadow of a great tree, you find one of the wretches.
A scrawny, unkempt man, like so many of the others that you’ve seen in Walpurgis, his face marked by deep wounds from where he clawed at his own eyes. The man lies moaning, staring blindly at the sky. You nudge him with the tip of your boot, but he gives no reaction. The Stryx had laid its malign influence on the man, and taken a part of him with it when it left. All that remains is the shattered shell of a man, fit only for a merciful death.
The others seem to realise your intentions, discretely withdrawing as you draw your dagger.
-
It gets easier, or perhaps you just grown numb too it. After a while, you barely even think about what you’re doing, following the voices and silencing them with mechanical efficiency. Most of the time, the ruined men never even know that they’re dying. Even when there is a faltering awareness in their eyes they offer no resistance, sometimes even offering their throats to your blade.
When the last of the voices has fallen silent, you find a secluded clearing and sit with your back against a fallen log. Your whole body aches, a pain that reaches all the way into your spirit. After a while, you sense that you’re not alone.
“Are you… okay?” Elle asks softly.
“I’m fine,” you reply, “It was a job that needed done.”
“Mm,” she murmurs, reaching out and placing her hand over yours.
“You did good, back there,” you add after a moment.
“Thank you,” Elle answers, and you can hear the shy smile in her voice, “But I fear that you might be overestimating my talents. If I was able to do anything at all, it was to buy a little time while the last of the… the anchor was burned away to nothing.”
“Even so, it was brave.”
“I just thought…” she hesitates, “I’m not tough like Miss Tomoe, or a fighter like Ariel. Sometimes, as we venture beyond the Godhead’s light, I even wonder if I’m any use as an oracle. So I thought, if there’s nothing else I can do… at least I can stand by your side, come what may.”
Her words, and the intention behind them, are truly noble. Yet, you wonder if she really knows what she’s saying. She is a child of the sun, born to walk in virtue and golden grace, whereas your path has always been guided by the light of the moon. Will she always be able to follow where you walk?
“Now come on,” Elle says, oblivious to your dark thoughts, “Master Barbeau is waiting for us.”
[1/2]
