Covenant of Fire [Elden Ring SI-OC]

[StrangeCrest]

AN:
Sorry for the late chapter guys. The truth is that the holidays utterly nuked my writing routine and I have been struggling to get it back on track.

But good news! I've (tentatively) unfucked my routine, and everything is chugging along again. I've wrote 4.5 chapters over the last 2 weeks.

Even better, I've set up a patreon (patreon.com/StrangeCrest) for those of you interested in reading 3 more chapters ahead for $3 and supporting this side hustle of mine so I can hopefully turn this into a full hustle.

Shilling out of the way, enjoy the chapter!


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When Sihlas woke up the next morning in the back of the wagon, he was careful to not make any noise that would have anyone notice him. John and the nomadic merchant he had called Kalé were sitting at the front of the wagon driving it.


Laying across from him was Irina Morne, the lord's daughter, dressed as a commoner. He'd never spoke or interacted with her, but he had seen her a couple times before while doing tasks.


Last night she'd cried herself to sleep and she hadn't woke up yet. Sihlas had succumbed to his own tiredness a short time after her, having been unable to relax with the sobbing noblewoman near him.


His sleep the previous night had not been good. He'd had bad dreams. He couldn't remember any of them specifically, but they had been confusing and unpleasant.


His worries about what John wanted with him had probably been the cause. If John just wanted a slave, he could have picked any of the other bigger, stronger, more useful misbegotten. Why had he chosen Sihlas?


Sihlas suspected he knew the answer. And it sent chills down his scarred back and made his stomach heave in revulsion and anger.


Sihlas had once thought that John was one of the nice ones he'd heard about, but he was just another person who hid under a mask of kindness. Sihlas had seen the butchered bodies with his own eyes during the vigil and Gharriel's haunting hollow socket.


Just yesterday evening, right before he was to go to sleep in his cell with the other misbegotten he'd been placed with, John had shown up with the jailer and removed him from the others. He had a writ that made him Sihlas's owner.


Sihlas had only just barely escaped death from the madness that was the rebellion, and now he had to once again live every day in fear that it would be his last.

John didn't say anything to him until they were out of the dungeon. Then John had taken him aside and just told him that if anyone in the castle asked Sihlas if he was asked if he was the misbegotten who had told John about the rebellion, he was to say yes. Then John had gave a list of details he was to claim to have told John if anyone asked further.


Then he told Sihlas that once they had left Morne, he was to always deny that he had been one of the misbegotten involved in Morne's misbegotten rebellion. Then they kept walking to their destination, unknown to Sihlas, without John explaining anything else.


Sihlas could not imagine what sort of twisted machinations John had for why Sihlas was to lie and hide, but he dared not disobey.


John was his new owner, no longer Castle Morne, and Sihlas knew better than to question those above him, especially not a man like John. He'd just nodded and did his best to not be noticed since John had taken him.


That hadn't stopped Lord Morne from seeing him though. His shoulder was still sore from where the lord had clenched it as hard as he could to make sure Sihlas knew not to touch his daughter. Not that Sihlas would ever have been dumb enough to do that.


Just thinking about his situation, it felt like he was hanging from the edge of a cliff by his fingertips and the rain had started pouring. The slowly creeping despair was making his stomach and his eyes start to itch.


The believers had told everyone about the deal she had made with Lord Morne. Gharriel had sacrificed herself to assure that none of them she had dragged into her crazy rebellion would be killed or crippled after they surrendered, and that grace had been undone for Sihlas.


But Sihlas had no doubt that the rest may have been saved from being maimed or executed, it wouldn't save them from being punished. Maybe Lord Morne would just work them so hard they died from exhaustion, or some other way to make them pay.


The rebellion had been madness from start to finish. The very idea, the audacious plot, the chaotic fighting and burning of the town, the measures that his kind had taken, and the mass of corpses that the believers had spent much of their time making, taken from the ruins and ongoing battles.


Of all that, the most mad thing about the entire rebellion was that it came close to working.


But even worse than the meat than what they'd done had been what their former masters had done.


The only reason Sihlas wasn't already dead by John's hand was because he had been the only youngling recruited to help fight because of his 'contributions' and 'loyalty' beforehand. The other misbegotten who had yet to fully grow had been kept safe in the youngling level guarded by a large unit of the believers.


Sihlas had to resist a derisive snort at the believers.


Yeah. They kept them so safe that John had helped slaughter them all.


He couldn't imagine the man he had spent those days talking with doing what John had done in the rebellion. Even the thought of the naivety of his old thoughts filled him with shame now.

Despite knowing that he was just a lowly misbegotten and John was not, despite his best not to, all it had taken was a few drawings and Sihlas had unknowingly considered John his friend.


And even now, despite knowing that it had all been a devious mask from the start, despite knowing everything John had done, he still couldn't help but feel betrayed. Pathetic.


Just thinking about it all caused ugly feelings in his gut.


Sihlas hadn't learned that John had done the butchery immediately. He had thought him dead like almost all of the townsfolk in Castletown.


It was not until more than a day after that final battle when the believers and a scarred and crippled Gharriel missing all her hair had come telling them of how they had been defeated. What they had learned using information Gharriel had seen in the battle itself and also what they later learned from collaborators inside the castle.


A devious trap dreamed up and executed by a brown-eyed man. One who had taken Gharriel's eye in battle as she fled. One of two survivors of the youngling butchers Gharriel had slaughtered.


They came telling of what happened and asking if any of them knew this brown-eyed man. A color found only in the eyes of foreigners.


Sihlas had only ever met a single brown-eyed man in his life. The only brown-eyed man Sihlas knew of, besides the tales he'd overheard from others of far-off lands and their strange peoples.


But Sihlas had kept silent out of fear of what they would do to him. That they would learn he had thought that monster was his friend. He knew the believers had secret ways they could make people tell them their deepest secrets.


To know John was capable of such butchery, and that he could dream up a multi-layered elaborate trap like that, Sihlas now knew he had never truly known John.


Even if he was willing to sacrifice himself, he didn't have any useful information. He had helped the believers enough already. He had labored enough for the believers' rebellion, having worked himself to the bone flying around carrying messages and supplies between groups the entire rebellion after that first night. He had even fought in that last battle.


Sihlas remembered that explosion, the blinding light, the force as it threw him and everything in the courtyard and he shivered. To think Gharriel survived that and only lost her legs.


When after that battle most who weren't among the original believers had despaired and called for Gharriel to end the rebellion, Sihlas among them. They believed it to be a lost cause despite everyone who had been sacrificed, he remembered how Gharriel had argued with them to hold on a little longer.


That if they just kept fighting on they would win. They could avenge everyone and start a wave that would sweep over the peninsula.


But after so many of them had been lost already-five out of every six of his kind that had been there at the start, nearly three thousand dead-and after so devastating a defeat with their champion being bested and crippled, and most of them not having wanted the rebellion in the first place, even the rallying cry of the avenging the younglings wasn't enough.


Most were beaten and wished to grasp at any chance of keeping their lives, and Sihlas was one of them.


So Gharriel listened despite having argued against it and once again proved


herself incredible, just a few days later securing a surrender that saved most of the former slaves by putting them back into bondage at the cost of herself and the other original believers.


And now he was here in this wagon with a nomadic merchant, a powerful lord's daughter, and a monster from the rebellion, doing his best to remain under the notice of them.


He just hoped as he waited for whatever John wanted to do with him, he didn't go hungry. Just the thought of going back to the gnawing feeling in his stomach that he had endured for so long made the itching behind his eyes and in his gut into a feverish churning heat.


Sihlas was so lost in his thoughts he didn't notice he had completely tuned out the world until he heard a voice break the steady clopping of the donkey pulling the wagon.


"Hail! You there, stop!"


Sihlas looked and his heart stopped. On the road in front of them was a long column of hundreds of soldiers and knights on foot and on horseback marching down toward Morne. Warriors and banners and supply carts.


The column stretched all the way up the hill they were climbing and kept going past the crest. Just from what he could see there must have been nearly a thousand that he could see at that moment, and there were more coming over the crest of the hill with every step of their march.


Seeing that, Sihlas abruptly realized that the rebellion had been doomed from before it had even started. Even if they hadn't been forced to start early and they had not lost a single misbegotten in their taking of Castle Morne, they never would have been able to stand against such might.


He was now even more glad that they had begged Gharriel to end it when she had. Whatever mad plan the believers had kept to themselves with what they were doing with the corpses they had collected could have never been enough to overcome this.


The man who had hailed them had ridden ahead of the marching army down to them.


He was a mounted knight in the elaborate armor that stormcallers wore, though he was not dragonblooded. He was of common stature like Lord Morne was. He had the visor of his helmet raised to speak with them.


The merchant Kalé brought the wagon to a stop off the road a short distance out of the way of the advancing army. The mounted knight followed them, and as they marched past, knights and men would look over at them.


"Name yourself and tell me why you are coming from the direction of Castle Morne," the knight commanded aggressively, brooking no argument.


Despite this, John's response sounded not the least bit nervous as he performed a salute.


"John White, Sir. I was an irregular twentier under the High Marshal's command. I was released from service by Lord Morne yesterday with some rewards for my deeds. I wanted to get away from that place as soon as possible after everything that has happened there, so I left late evening yesterday with the High Marshal's blessing."


The knight looked over to John, the merchant holding the reins next to him, and then into the back of the wagon. His eyes glanced over the young woman but quickly were drawn to Sihlas, who shrunk in on himself.


"Who are the other three?" the knight questioned.


"This is my friend Kalé," John said as he clapped the merchant on the shoulder just hard enough that John's armor jingled, sticking out because of the tension. "He took shelter in the castle with me when everything kicked off and worked in the mess.


"Before the rebellion happened, he and I entered a business partnership traveling around and hunting for valuable treasures. We were selling wares in Morne when the rebellion kicked off. Now that it's over and we're free to go, we've gotten back to it."


John pointed back towards them with his thumb, not turning to look.


"The two in the back, the young woman is with me because a man I fought with asked me to watch over his daughter as his dying request. Poor thing is grieving and cried herself to sleep last night. It looks like she still hasn't woken up. The misbegotten's ownership was transferred to me by the lord as part of my rewards."


The knight seemed mostly placated but not completely convinced as he looked over the wagon, nearly bursting with all sorts of packed goods, the full suit of armor John was wearing, and stopped his gaze on Sihlas.


"All this?" He gestured back toward the bags of supplies in the wagon. "That is quite the incredible amount of rewards for an irregular. And a misbegotten? Normally, they are only given to landed men."


When John responded, even sitting behind him, Sihlas could hear the smug satisfaction drip from his voice.


"Nice isn't it? I'm not the strongest fighter, but I helped a lot with planning and executing the trap in the final battle that eliminated the misbegotten's champion, and the High Marshal rewarded me richly for it."


John leaned back and pulled out a small stack of parchment just behind where he sat on the front bench of the wagon.


"I've got writs for all of this if you wanna see it," John said as he offered the papers to the knight.


Sihlas could see the last of the tension leave the knight's shoulders. He gave a short look through the stack of writs, but Sihlas could tell he wasn't really reading them, already convinced just by their presence, and then the knight handed them back to John.


"Everything seems in order. Stay where you are. My superior will want to speak with you."


The knight rode off.


As they waited and the army began marching past them, Sihlas was glad for the canvas cover of the wagon. Not only was it keeping out the light sprinkling of rain, but it blocked most of the looks of the men marching and riding past, keeping Sihlas out of view.


Not long later, the knight returned with another in tow. This knight did have dragonsblood, or kingsblood as some called it, and his warhorse was similarly extraordinarily large to handle for his nine-foot stature with similarly large armor.


The larger knight opened his visor.


"I am Prior Eddin Thundercall. Knight Major Jovarn tells me you were a twentier from Castle Morne. I want a report of the situation there."


John nodded.


"Yes my lord. I believe that smoke signals have already been exchanged between the castle and your forces scouts telling of how the misbegotten have negotiated their surrender?"


"They have."


"Well, the surrender went well. No traps or mishaps. All of the near four hundred misbegotten that remain living are sitting stuffed in the dungeon as we speak.


"Manpower is very strained holding them, and we were focused on holding on tight and waiting for your force to arrive. Lack of manpower means no supplies will be prepared for your men when you arrive. The front castle lift was repaired, so that should make things much easier.


"There are still some injured sitting in the infirmary. We have run out of crimson tears, so only the most serious-"


John went on to spend nearly twenty minutes answering the questions the Prior had of him before he was satisfied and dismissed them to go on their way. The two knights rode back to resume their positions in the column.


The merchant once again got the wagon moving. It was a slow crawl as the army took up the entire road, so they were forced to use the soggy grass off the side. The donkey pulling their wagon struggled from the wagon wheels sinking into the wet dirt.


After a few minutes of this, John and the merchant decided to allow the donkey to rest and wait for the army to pass so they could resume using the road. They stopped the wagon longways across the hill so it wouldn't roll down and put some wooden wedges under the wheels to make sure.


As they waited, the lord's daughter finally woke. Hearing her shuffling around as she did, John turned around.


"You awake now Irina? Ah, Sihlas you too. Sorry, didn't hear you wake up."


Sihlas just nodded his head as Irina began straightening out her townsfolk garb that had gotten shifted as she had slept.


As the lord's daughter arranged herself, John fully turned himself around, sitting on the back of the driving bench facing back toward them.


Once she was done, the lord's daughter turned her attention to John. She was very subdued and despite doing her best to look well composed, there was still a fragility to her demeanor. She dipped her head to John.


"I'm sorry for my outburst last night Mister White."


John just smiled and waved her apology away.


"Do not worry about it. You were mourning his loss. It is normal and perfectly acceptable to act that way."


Mourning Lord Morne's loss? But he had looked fine last night? Was this why the lord's daughter was with them? But why John instead of one of the knights in the castle?


Irina dipped her head again.


"Thank you for your forgiveness Mister White."


"No more of that Mister White stuff. As long as you are in this caravan as 'just Irina', I'll be John and you'll be Irina. To others, you are the daughter of my former comrade who entrusted me with you upon his death. Do we all understand?" John asked, looking back and forth at 'just Irina' and Sihlas.


Sihlas nodded.


"Yes Mister-Yes John,"Irina corrected.


John clapped his hands together.


"Good. Now that that is taken care of, let me tell you what we are doing. Me and Kalé will be exploring around looking into leads we have on the locations of some valuable things. We will also stop at some villages and towns along the way as we come across them so Kalé can trade and resupply us as needed.


"We'll be doing this as we head north to the Mistwood to pick up something Kalé has a lead on there," John told them, looking between them to make sure they understood.


"Now you two aren't prisoners here or anything, and I want to be clear: we will not be treating Sihlas as lower than anyone else in our group just because he is misbegotten. You don't have to like him, but I'm not letting enmity foment between us because of nonsense and a desire to feel superior to others.


"On a light note, if either of you two want something, just ask. Depending on what it is and as long as it is reasonable, we'll probably accommodate it."


Sihlas knew John had a writ of ownership for him. He heard John earlier before John had known he was awake, and John had used it to take him from the dungeon. Sihlas was John's slave. He wasn't sure what John's scheme with all this was, but he wouldn't be tricked by his lies again.


John turned his attention to Sihlas.


"I'll be expecting you to help me with my duties to the group, Sihlas. That means fighting if someone or something attacks us as well as helping me in hunting for food. I'll teach you as we go, and it will only take a month or so and you won't need my help anymore."


Sihlas felt a spark go down his spine. It was as he feared. John intended to take him out to the woods alone. Whatever John planned to do to him there would have


Sihlas carefully nodded again. Spotting his trepidation despite him trying to hide it, John's eyes narrowed for a moment before he let out a sigh of disappointment.


That response from John made Sihlas even more nervous. Displeasing whoever was in charge of him was never a good thing.


John gestured between Sihlas and the lord's daughter.


"You two, I know you were enemies only a few days ago, and there inevitably will be bad blood, but neither of you two were in charge of what happened.


"You were both just pulled along by forces greater than either of you, same as I was. And Kalé. You don't have to like each other, but I don't want any trouble. We are leaving the past in the past.


"Don't make any problem between you two into my problem, or I'll resolve the problem, and you won't like how I fix it. Do you two understand?" John said sternly.


Sihlas nodded jerkily. He understood what John really meant. He wasn't to be talking about what John had done in rebellion.


The rest of the command was unneeded. He had no ill will toward the lord's daughter. She had been well known among the bottom of Clifftown as being one of the people who were truly good-natured toward his kind.


Even if she wasn't though, he would never dare say or do anything hurtful to her. He didn't want to be punished or executed.


Irina nodded along as well after a moment.


"Good."


John glanced back around to the front and saw that the army had finished moving past them.


"Now, I'm gonna keep learning how to drive the wagon from Kalé. You two are free to occupy yourselves however you want. I would suggest staying in the wagon because of the army though," John finished.


Done talking to them, John turned back around and sat down properly on the wagon's driving bench next to the brightly colored merchant. They immediately began speaking to each other about where and how they would be traveling and where they would be making stops.


Sihlas didn't recognize any of the town names or other locations they spoke of outside of the Bridge of Sacrifice.


That left Sihlas and the lord's dau- No, Irina. That left Sihlas and Irina in the back by themselves. They regarded each other awkwardly, but neither spoke or moved to do anything. They just sat and waited, not knowing what to do.


As the casual and jovial conversation between the two old friends, John and the merchant,-Kalé-drifted back to the two of them, it only highlighted the difference between their conversation and Sihlas and Irina's silence.


Eventually, the column of marching men came to an end. There must have been at least two thousand of them that had marched past. Maybe more.


The road clear once more, John removed the wood wedges keeping the wagon in place, and they continued their journey up through the hills and the sun made its way across the sky.


Although his situation filled him with dread, there was still one good thing about this that none of his fears of what would come could taint.


He was laying eyes on lands beyond Morne.


He never thought he would ever get to experience it. He had believed that he, like most of his kind at Clifftown, would spend his every breath from birth till death in Morne.


Yet now Morne was no longer in sight, having been swallowed by the crests of the rolling hills.


Sihlas marveled at the nature around him. He'd been around small patches of trees in Castletown and even could spot the forested hills far distant from Morne, but that was nothing compared to the wonder of seeing a real forest right next to them, only just off the road!


From that great distance, he couldn't see the small forest creatures that ran as they approached to go past where they called home, nor could he hear the loud sounds of insects making their presence known last night.


It was as magical an experience as the first time he had glided on his wings. The bugs in Clifftown knew not to make noise or they would be eaten.


It had been hours of experiencing the world outside of Morne, and some of his initial wonder had faded, but seeing all that had been denied to him due to him having been born among his cursed kind, it was still incredible.


Sihlas was so occupied with the sights he nearly jumped when a tentative voice spoke up across from him.


"Sihlas was your name, right?"


Realizing Irina was speaking to him, his focus immediately changed to her.


"Yes," Sihlas said, doing his best to remain as neutral as possible.


Irina nervously bit her lip, drawing Sihlas's eyes to her full lips.


"I was... I was wondering... Could you tell me why?" she asked hesitantly.


"Why?" Sihlas asked, unsure of what she was speaking of.


"Why did the servants rebel? Did they truly hate us so? After John and my father had captured them, I looked for the castle's servants. So many of them I have known since I was a young girl, now perished."


Sihlas sighed.


"Most of us did not want to rebel. Only the believers, the followers of Gharriel, and the slaves closest to them knew what they were planning.


"Most knew nothing at all or helped them with small tasks not knowing what their secret tasks were working toward. They were paying us food if we did certain tasks.


"Once that first night of panicked attack had started though, and Gharriel and the believers had killed so many of Lord Morne's soldiers and had burned down Castletown, many believed they had no choice but to make the rebellion succeed or we all would be executed.


"Many others were convinced after that first night when the lord's men were pushed into the castle that we were almost certain to win. The few left who still didn't want to join were told to flee into the woods or were forced to follow along with everyone else.


"It wasn't just about our own lives. Gharriel and the believers promised that if we could just take Morne then it would allow her and the Savior she spoke of to free not just our kind in Morne, but all of us throughout the Weeping Peninsula. We would sweep across the land like a great wave.


"And afterward, we would become the new rulers of this land. A place where all our kind could seek shelter."


Irina took that all in.


"So the servants, they were tricked? They did not hate us?"


Sihlas was silent for a moment. He didn't want to tell her the truth for fear of her not liking the answer, but the fear of being punished for later being found out lying was even greater.


"No. They were not tricked. The believers had kept their plan to rebel secret, but most of us embraced the opportunity once Gharriel had succeeded on that first night, and more followed after those first few days.


"Gharriel wasn't lying. No one knew what plan she and her Savior had to allow us to take the Weeping Peninsula, and even up until they surrendered their lives, she and the believers were certain it would work as long as Morne fell.


"Before the rebellion, most of us did not hate our masters. We were too fearful to even dare go as far as to allow ourselves to hate. But when we thought the end of our suffering was soon at hand, all the bitterness and indignation we had hidden away turned into hate and rage.


"Most of the bodies of soldiers who fell against us were taken back and mutilated after their deaths. Defacing and humiliating them in death now that they could no longer reach us with their fists and swords.


Irina was taken aback at that.


"But how could you hate us so? We provided everything to them."


Sihlas saw red and had to control himself from lashing out physically or verbally!


The sheer audacity and ignorance of that question made Sihlas wish he still had his cleaver as his worst memories surged to the surface.


But he was aware of his position, he held the outrage in his chest as he learned to do so from before even his earliest memories. When he spoke, his voice was neutral and without any emotion.


"Given us everything? We got tasteless meals that did not fill our stomachs. That was all we were given. We were only allowed to keep our lives so we could be used as nearly free labor.


"From your words, it is clear that what happens to us has been kept from you. You do not know what we have had to endure. Let me tell you of what has happened to me," Sihlas said as he did his best, and mostly succeeded, to be matter-of-fact as his chest and limbs burned.


"I am allowed to own nothing, not even clothing. Because only men and dragons can own things, and my kind are more beast than man. I work every day but receive almost no reward for my labor. The food I get amounts to less than a tenth of the runes the poorest farmhand receives."


Sihlas had only meant to speak a little of this, but now that he had started, it was pouring out. He couldn't stop himself. It was all he could do to keep his voice numb to the emotions raging in his body.


"Always obeying the whims of others, I live nearly every bit of the day I am not among fellow misbegotten in fear that my actions may somehow bring punishment upon me. I have scars upon my body from such punishments.


"Many times I have been cornered and beaten when I was trying to do my tasks for a day. For no reason besides what I am. There were times a task commissioner wrote on my task report that I had done a task poorly when I had not, just so that I was forced to go even hungrier than usual for a day."


Sihlas shuddered as his worst memory came to mind.


"Worse than all of that. Just a few years ago I began becoming a man. Like all misbegotten men in the Weeping Peninsula, I was brought in for gelding," Irina gasped, "You cannot imagine. The agony. The humiliation of not even being a complete man.


"Us misbegotten, our curse already ensures we have little of the essence of men in us, and even what little of that I possessed has been made lesser.


"And misbegotten women, they need not be gelded. They always miscarry. Many times taking the mother's life. A fate certain guardsmen or men who commission the castle for our work enjoy inflicting on our kind. I have heard of even more depraved things that occur to us as well.


"Word spreads of some commissioners where it is better to receive no food for a day and a punishment than to go to them to do assigned tasks.


"Even the kindest masters who have never laid a finger on us care not enough for us to prevent those depraved masters who enjoy our suffering.


"Have you ever done so Lady Irina? Tell me, after enduring all that, how could we not hate you all?"


Irina was shocked speechless then she turned her head way ashamed rather than answer his questions.


As the silence lingered, Sihlas noticed that John and Kalé had stopped speaking as well. He realized that while he hadn't shouted, he had spoke louder than he had intended.


Quashing the fear that surged at the realization he had brought everyone's, John's, attention onto himself, Sihlas looked back out at the forest, hoping the wonder of the forest would take all the bad feelings in his chest away.


It did not. He couldn't rid himself of the memories that he had brought up nor the feeling that he was hanging from a cliff's edge by his fingertips and every moment his grip was becoming weaker.


And having broken all the rules of society before by joining in on the rampage that was the first night of the rebellion, his mind began to turn.


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Sihlas glided around looking down at the hillside, making to pay special attention to the area under the sparse trees that covered the hillside. Thankfully, it was raining that day, so flying was more pleasant.


The hillsides of this area were sparsely populated with trees and off on a distant hilltop Sihlas could see a building-sized chunk of ruined masonry. It looked similar to another one they had passed before that John had told him had once been part of the legendary Farum Azula.


Eyes sharp, he looked for any sign of movement or anything that glowed, but as he beheld the sparse sprawling forest below him, he did not see anything.


After spending a few minutes looking up and down the forested hillsides nearby, he glided down to where John stood next to a large laden pack.


As he landed, Sihlas used the partisan spear in his hands to anchor himself for an easier landing.


"Nothing?" John absently asked with his crossbow slung across his chest, already expecting Sihlas's answer.


"Nothing," Sihlas confirmed.


John looked up at the clear sky and the sun which was already slowly making its way back down towards the horizon.


"Damn it. The day's already half over. We don't have enough supplies to keep going. I thought we would have found it by now. We'll finish the day out, but I expect we won't be finding it this trip. We'll have to go back to the wagon and resupply. I'll make sure to bring more next time.


"I only am willing to spend a few weeks total across all the hunts we plan on doing, and I don't want to spend half that time backtracking. It would be nice, really nice, if we find this one, but it isn't vital. This will be the hardest one, and there is only so much time I am willing to waste combing these hills," John said thinking out loud to Sihlas.


Sihlas just waited quietly for John to tell him what he wanted him to do.


"Go ahead and get back up there, and let's keep sweeping the hillsides heading east. We'll go another hour and then make camp before it gets dark. I don't want to have you flying around at night and crash into a tree or the hillside."


That wasn't a worry for Sihlas. He could see well enough at night that he wouldn't crash as long as he didn't fly as quickly as he could, but he wasn't going to tell John otherwise.


"Yes John," Sihlas obeyed and took to the sky once more on his tired and slightly sore wings from going up and down all day.


The ascent was always the most tiring part of flying but gliding wasn't straining, and this was only about as hard as one his busier task days.


Sihlas flew up as high as he could go while still being able to see things on the ground. He once more began gliding around to continue looking over the hillsides.


John seemed genuine in wanting to find what they were hunting for and in using his ability to fly in to make finding it easier, but John had also told him of other hunts like this he had planned, and how the others would be much easier with how he knew precisely where to look for things.


In other words, John only needed Sihlas for this hunt specifically. Once their prey had been found, John's true intentions with Sihlas would come.


It would mean Sihlas's death. Or worse as he was growing to suspect, it wouldn't.


Every hillside they covered he felt that moment draw nearer. It was unbearable.


As time passed and he diligently looked for any telltale glow that he had been told to look for, his eyes wandered to the hilly horizon and his heart pounded at the opportunity just out of reach.


When he lived in Clifftown, Sihlas knew of other flying misbegotten who had tried to escape off into the hills for fear of their punishment after a big mistake. He'd seen their corpses brought back and put up on posts at the beach at the tip of Clifftown.


From what he had heard they all had eventually been caught up with by a hunting party led by a knight who could command storm and were torn from the sky. If they flew, the hunting party could see them, and if they walked, their tracks would be followed. There was no escape.


But if Sihlas ran now, there would be no hunting party for a long time. Long enough that no one would be able to catch up to him. All of Lord Morne's men in the lands from the Ramparts of Regret southward had been brought in as reinforcements that they had passed days ago.


Sihlas had already began planning to make his escape. He'd be free as long as he stayed far in the wilderness away from any town, soldiers, and patrols.


There was just one problem with his plan: John. He had seen John practicing with his crossbow to improve his aim.


Sihlas did not know a lot about archery besides what he heard about as he went about his tasks or what other misbegotten told him, but he had seen a few archery contests held during festivals over the years.


He'd seen the contestants test their skills in those festivals. He'd seen a hunter split his own arrow with two bulls-eyes in a row and a dragonblooded knight use his own huge bow and arrows to smash dummies into splinters.


However when it came to John, he was impossibly good with his aim. His shots with his crossbow were not powerful like the knights he had seen, but he'd seen John take out small, quick birds from the sky a dozen times in a row and never miss once.


Sihlas never realized that the expression about shooting two birds with a single arrow was anything more than an exaggerated expression about accuracy, even if they had tasted good when Kalé had cooked them.


If something was within range of John's crossbow, then he would hit it.


And Sihlas's head was much bigger than one of those birds. He made sure not to give John even the slightest impression that he was making an escape by not flying too far away or too high up. He didn't know exactly how far John's crossbow could reach to be able to make his escape.


Sihlas had thought of killing John when he was asleep, but when he had approached him last night, even his quietest footsteps woke him.


At least the past few days where he had been allowed to eat his fill. Actual good, cooked food. Not the gruel of Castle Morne or the rations and scraps the rebellion had had. It had been good, better than anything he'd had before, but Sihlas wasn't blind to the fact that he ate as much as all three of the others combined.


Even if he endured John, he also feared the day they tired of his appetite, and he was once again left to go hungry.


Sihlas abruptly realized he had gotten lost in his thoughts and had stopped looking down at the hillside. He put away his feelings and refocused on the hunt, mindful not to stray too far.


As he looked down at the hillside below him, Sihlas nearly fell out of the air.


Right there! On the side of that tree holding a ball! A glowing beetle-looking creature holding a ball covered in refuse whose inner glow escaped through cracks in the refuse! It must have been a scarab like John was looking for!


It wasn't white like John said, rather it was an orange color with streaks of green and red. But Sihlas was sure this creature was what John was looking for. Everything except the color matched as he had said.

Spoiler: Tearrdop Scarab 1

Teardrop Scarab 1

Spoiler: Tearrdop Scarab 1

Teardrop Scarab 2

Hurrying to turn his glide around, he spotted John across the hillside and dropped down to him.


"John! I think I found a scarab. It's over there on the side of a tree. The one next to the large rock," Sihlas pointed to a tree in the distance.


"You found it on the side of a tree?" John asked surprised, "But-" John shook his head "-Never mind. Lead me to it."


Sihlas started making his way over on foot with John following. As they climbed across the hillside, Sihlas tried to move quickly with his awkward gait, but John was easily able to keep up with him.


"We really need to come up with some sort of signaling system for you up in the air so you don't have to fly over to me or land to talk to me. Actually, we should have grabbed Kalé's telescope, so you could fly higher up and look. We could have done all this much better," John complained about their methods.


Sihlas waited for more reprimand from John to come, but that was all he said.


A few minutes later, they were standing within charging distance of the glowing beetle. It was still on the side of the tree.


Sihlas had never seen a bug half the size of a man. At this size, the pincers and spikes on the body looked intimidating. Like small daggers. The biggest bug he'd seen before this had been a centipede that wasn't ever as thick as his finger.


John looked over the scarab.


"Well, damn. It was on a tree. And it is a scarab, but those colors...


"Alright, you go back into the air with your partisan and be ready. I'll shoot it once and if it doesn't fall off the tree, then you knock it off.


"I think these things can teleport, so if it runs we have to chase it quickly. Don't stop attacking it until it is dead. Do you understand?" John asked.


Sihlas nodded.


"Repeat it back to me."


"Wait for you to shoot it first, then knock it down. Don't stop attacking until it is dead."


"Excellent. Exactly. Now let's start before we tempt fate and spook the thing."


Sihlas took to the sky holding his spear in a tight grip. Once he was up there and John saw he was ready, John took aim and fired.


The bolt hit the giant bug in the crease between the chest and back portion, piercing right through the weak spot in its natural armor and sinking deep enough that the bolt disappeared from sight.


The force knocked the bug off the tree and it started falling to the ground. Even as it was knocked and fell, it kept a grip on its ball. As soon as it hit the ground it immediately flipped itself upright and began making a loud and angry clicking noise.


Sihlas didn't hesitate and swooped down. The moment he was within reach, he thrust his spear. He felt his spear slam into the tough armor of the bug, but after his swooping weight acted like a knight on a horse and shoved the weapon with force far greater than his arms could muster by themselves.


The spear broke right through the armor running clear through the bug and stopping on the armor on the other side of its body. Sihlas jerked in the air and was pulled to the ground by the spear, stuck inside the bug. He managed to keep ahold of it and land on his feet.


The bug didn't die instantly. It struggled with its legs against the ground, surprising Sihlas. His spear was torn from his hands with astonishing strength.


The bug tried to scuttle away quickly with its ball, but the spear through its body jutted against the ground and made it so only a few of its legs touched the ground. It could only struggle and push itself away slowly.


Intimidated by the huge bug without his weapon, Sihlas hesitated to charge after it. The bug stopped moving and began glowing brighter.


In that moment John rushed past Sihlas, moving incredibly fast even in his armor, shocking Sihlas out of his hesitation as he ran after John after another moment of hesitation. John had dropped his crossbow and had his hip dagger in his hands.

As they ran and the bug grew brighter, Sihlas felt his gut drop as he realized he had messed up his orders and might have ruined the hunt.


John smashed into the bug tackling it as its glow reached a peak. The bug still stubbornly kept hold of its ball as John held its struggling form on the ground.


Sihlas followed them but didn't know how to help fight the bug without his weapon, so he just stood by for a few moments and watched John and the bug struggle and fight each other on the ground. He looked back to where the crossbow laid on the ground and realized now was his chance.


The sight of the butchered bodies of over a hundred younglings tossed into a pile in the Clifftown street popped into his mind, but this time they all wore his face.


As John and the bug continued fighting in front of Sihlas, the bug managed to bite onto one of John's armored arms with its huge mandibles, and John's armor creaked. The bug's clicks sounded almost triumphant. John let out a grunt of pain and began stabbing at it with his knife using his other arm.


The two held still by John, Sihlas grabbed the spear and tried to pull it out of the bug as John kept stabbing at it, but it was stuck.


After a dozen stabs, the scarab let out a final slow series of clicks and stopped moving, its jaws releasing John's arm. It began quickly dissolving into a large cloud of glowing mist the garish colors as the bug had been.


The spear was released and Sihlas immediately took to the sky. As he flew his heart hammered in his chest faster than ever before in his life!


He turned around and glanced at John who was still inside of the mist cloud.


Sihlas climbed as fast as he could on his weary wings, higher than he had any time during the hunt. The mist was already clearing and at any moment John would realize what Sihlas was doing and dash for the crossbow.


He didn't waste a moment as he climbed to a height that would surely be outside of John's crossbow's range and made sure to head in a northward direction. Once he was 'safe', he risked another look back.


The mist had cleared. Unlike what he expected, John hadn't ran to grab his crossbow and he wasn't chasing him. Instead John stood there, unmoving, right where he had killed the bug, calmly watching as Sihlas flew away.


It should have made Sihlas happy to see that John wasn't fighting his escape and was just letting him go, but it didn't. But it didn't. Why wasn't John chasing him or heading back toward the wagon to go to the nearest town to have a hunting group formed?


It wouldn't be nearly fast enough to stop him, but why wasn't John rushing to recapture him?


Sihlas looked away and kept flying north. He could see the height of the hills gradually increasing.


Every moment he got farther away from John he was closer and closer to his freedom. Not having to see his new master or any master ever again, and not having to suffer whatever John had planned with him.


So why wasn't he feeling any better?


Instead of the crawling dread being replaced with relief and joy, instead every moment he got farther away he felt more guilty. More ashamed.


After a couple of minutes flying, he knew John was just a speck on one of the hills behind him at that point.


He was now free and would never again be burdened by society or anyone else. From now on, he could do as he wished. He could follow his own whims rather than those of his masters. The only weighing him down now was the spear in his hand.


Coming from nowhere in particular, a question popped in Sihlas's head completely unbidden by him.


If John was so evil and scheming, why had he given Sihlas those drawings?


The thought brought forth memories of that pile of butchered, tortured youngling bodies. The memory of seeing the obvious evidence of how some of them had been violated before and after death.


How the believers had used the idea of revenge on the last surviving perpetrators of that horror and those that had ordered it to galvanize them when morale started falling over the month.


From this another thought occurred to Sihlas.


Sihlas shuddered and tried to dismiss the question, tried to banish the question from his mind as he kept flying. It didn't matter now. He was free. He should be happy.


But no matter how hard he tried not to think of it, he could only refuse to acknowledge his thoughts for so long.


He was sure John planned to do the same to Sihlas now, but what about before the rebellion?


Had John planned to do that to Sihlas? Was that why he had lured him with the pictures? Had he planned to inflict his depravations on Sihlas before the rebellion had interrupted his plans?


It did not matter. John could no longer touch him ever again.


But Sihlas wasn't the only misbegotten youngling in the world. If John could somehow force Lord Morne into giving him Sihlas, than couldn't he do the same to other weaker lords with other misbegotten? How many more of his kind would have to suffer at his hands over the centuries to come?


Right now John was in the wilderness alone. Could Sihlas live with another youngling taking his place? One like that scared little girl who he had given his box of drawings to when he had been called on by the believers?


Sihlas could feel himself on the verge of doing something foolish.


Others of his kind had never looked at him or given him any regard. They had turned away from being his friends and they hadn't nursed him when he had been sick.


He was not their king or leader. He did not owe his kind anything.


The image of that same little girl not looking up to him in adoration for his gift, but in contempt flashed through his mind.


With a sudden scream of anger up into the sky, Sihlas spun around and started flying back.


At that moment, Sihlas didn't care about his freedom. He couldn't live with himself if he let a monster like John continue! He couldn't live with the stares that his kind would give him! Even if they were just in his own mind! Even if only he ever knew what he had done!


Sihlas flew back toward where he had left John. As he thought of what he was going to do, his hands tightened on the spear shaft so hard they hurt.


It took a few minutes until the hill came into view. The sky was just starting to change color. The start of the sunset would be coming in an hour's time.


He was high enough in the sky he would only look like a bird to those below if they didn't look carefully. He could see a small figure below he knew to be John. He was still on the hillside, and he looked to be sitting down where they had killed the bug.


Sihlas pulled his wings in and began his dive.


The wind whistled past his ears as he picked up speed! As he fell, he tilted his wings to get the correct angle, approaching John from above and behind. He made sure he had a clear runway after so he would not run into anything after hitting John.


John was looking at something he was holding in his hands in front of him.


Sihlas's eyes watered from the wind as the ground started to rush up to meet him.


His fell spear first, weapon held with both hands. Diving like a misshapen version of one of the Twinbird's white-winged maidens.


John was oblivious, focused on what he held in his as the diving Sihlas was only a few seconds away, his spear aimed at his back.


Suddenly John straightened where he sat and tilted his head where he sat on the hillside.


A few moments before Sihlas plunged his spear into his back, John turned his head to the side, spotting him out of the corner of his eye. Sihlas saw his eyes widen as John rolled to the side.


Sihlas shot past where John had been, barely missing him. As Sihlas shot past, John mid-spin managed to grab onto Sihlas's spear for just a moment before the spear was ripped from John's hand by Sihlas's momentum.


The spear went flying and spinning from Sihlas's hands through the air. Sihlas's direction was shifted from downhill diagonally to the side, setting him to crash into a tree further down the hillside.


Sihlas desperately flapped his wings to slow himself down and turn. His speed quickly fell as he pulled back, but his momentum was too much. He slammed into the tree with a thundering crack and bounced off into the ground!


He laid there dazed and his entire body in pain worse than the worst beating he had ever received. He couldn't move. He couldn't even scream out the agony he was feeling.


He felt a cold boot step on his chest.


"Why did you attack me?" Sihlas distantly noted John ask, in too much pain to focus on anything but what he was feeling.


John pressed his boot down on Sihlas's chest.


Sihlas let out a gurgling groan of pain, and John let up. That sudden sharp pain partially snapped Sihlas out of his fugue, and he looked up at John who was looking down at Sihlas with eyes as cold as ice.


"Why did you try and kill me? I let you go."


Sihlas struggled through the pain to gather enough breath and presence of mind to speak. As he struggled to pull in a breath, his own blood in his throat caught, and he coughed, making his body light up in a fresh wave of fiery agony.


"The... younglings... I... saw..." Sihlas managed to get out through the pain.


"The younglings? This was about revenge for the kids in Clifftown?" John asked coldly.


"Not... revenge... could... not... let... more..."


John's icy expression turned into a severe frown.


"You think I was going to kill more misbegotten? I haven't killed any. Why would you-" John stopped suddenly.


A few moments later he took his boot from Sihlas's chest.


Sihlas was so relieved from the sudden lessening of the pain that he didn't even notice that John was doing anything until something was jammed into his mouth and some liquid poured in.


"Crimson tears. Drink," John said.


Sihlas swallowed one mouthful, then another. The incredible taste was only a faint note compared to how much pain he was in and the immediate relief he felt as his body rapidly healed.


A few moments later, he felt the pain begin to rapidly lessen from where it felt like his entire body had been kicked by a giant to instead just a very hard fall.


Still painful and disorienting, but nothing in the same realm as having half his body crushed.


Sihlas looked up at John who seemed to barely be holding back anger.


"Sihlas, did you attack me because you think I killed the kids, the younglings?"


Hacking out some blood still in his throat and mouth, Sihlas was now able to respond.


"I know you were part of the soldiers who did it. I saw the bodies."


John grit his teeth.


"I did not participate in that."


Sihlas glared at him.


He didn't believe John. He wasn't going to be tricked again. But he knew that liars never admitted they were lying. Even if he indulged John, John's excuse was still bad.


"Don't make excuses. You should have stopped it."


John glared back.


"Stopped it? How? I was just an unranked volunteer. I begged for mercy for the kids, but the officers wouldn't listen. After everything started, I requested to be placed on lookout duty. I had as much control over what happened as you did about Gharriel's decisions."


"You should have done more, saved at least one-"


John pointed down at him.


"Shut your mouth you little hypocrite," John near snarled, "If I could have done anything more I would have. You weren't there. And my hands are cleaner than yours. I tried to save them, tried to save you! I just didn't have the power. And I refused to have a hand in it.


"Before you go pointing at me, you should think about your own actions and learn some gratitude. I abstained from killing any misbegotten who wasn't fighting to kill me, and I destroyed my relationship with one of the most powerful men in the Lands Between to save you."


John spit off to the side.


"And what thanks do I get for it? My supposed friend making assumptions about me and trying to kill me."


Sihlas flinched at that. To be accused of the same betrayal John had tried to do to him stung.


"You could name me a coward for my actions. For not doing more. I do not even deny that. I may be a coward, but at least not I am not someone who betrayed my friend who saved my life from some words others have said about him. At least I am not a cannibal. Not to mention whatever else you did with the rebels."


Sihlas flinched even harder at that as the memories came back to him. The worst part of that meat was the horror he'd felt the first time he ate when he realized it had tasted delicious.


John saw his flinch.


"You think I didn't know about that? I was fine leaving everything that happened there behind us. We all had to do vile things to survive, but if you want to get up on a high horse to me about it, I'll pull you off and throw you into the mud where you belong."


John took a deep breath and reigned in his anger, regaining his composure.


"I'll stop there. There is no point biting at each other about this.


"You have been acting distant these past days. I assumed that you were having a hard time from what happened in the rebellion, but I don't think that was it. I can see it now. You were being distant because you were scared of me.


"I don't know what you think you know, but really think about whatever you have been told about me and compare it to what you've actually seen me do.


"No one could have seen what I did or didn't do that day. We killed every misbegotten to the last. Anything you think I have done is just words someone else thinks I may have done. If that is not enough to convince you, then I won't waste any more time trying."


Sihlas hadn't thought about that. He felt a sliver of doubt creep in, but then he realized that it was very convenient for John that he wouldn't be able to ask the others if someone had seen something with their own eyes.


"Sihlas, I may legally be your master now, but I am not going to treat you as a slave. I hate the slavery that is inflicted on the misbegotten. If I could, I would make you a free man, but no one else in the Lands Between would accept it."


Sihlas knew that wasn't entirely true. Gharriel's Savior would.


"I have that writ of ownership so I can protect you from other people. If I just freed you, the first squad of soldiers we come across would just take you so the local lord could have more free labor.


"I'm bringing you on these hunts and teaching you how not just to help me, but so you can learn and be self-sufficient if you need to be. So that you aren't trapped depending on me, so you could leave if you wanted to.


"I was going to bring it up when you were good, but you are free to leave when you want."


"I don't believe you," Sihlas said.


John sighed again, seeing through him. Maybe it was the fact he was still in a ball.


"I am being serious Sihlas. You are my friend. Or at least I thought you were before this. I will not treat you badly or hurt you. If someone else tries to do that to you, I'll back you up.


"But I can see you don't believe me. Sihlas, if I just wanted a misbegotten slave, I could have gotten anyone that had been trapped there.


"I never did explain about those lies I told you to tell. When I gave the High Marshal information about the rebellion I lied and told him that I had a misbegotten informant. When I learned that you still lived, I told him that you were that informant. I could have claimed any misbegotten was the informant but I chose you."


Yes. To finish him off.


"There is a lot more to this that I can't tell you just yet about this, especially now that I realize I was mistaken about, so you have to still keep telling everyone all those things if you want to stay with us, but I forced Edgar to hand you over to me.


"I ruined my good relationship with him to save you from being... punished like all the rest of the misbegotten in the dungeon."


This broke through the wall Sihlas had built to deafen himself to John's words.


John had forced Lord Morne to give Sihlas to him!? How? What did John have over him to make Lord Morne do something like that? And how did John get information about the believers' plans? And why had Lord Morne entrusted his daughter to John if John had a bad relationship with the lord?


Was what John had said true? Had John really not done those things to the younglings?


Sihlas still didn't believe him, but now he was beginning to doubt what the believers had told him as well.


The youngling had suffered, he had seen the bodies, but no one could know John had done so. Now that he started thinking about what they had actually said, the believers had never directly claimed that John had done that. They had implied it. A trick he recognized that people used to lie.


"I can see you still don't believe me. Fine," John said as he started walking away from Sihlas. "If you really don't want to travel with us, you can leave right now. I won't stop you.


"Just grab that spear on the ground over there and fly away. My crossbow is up the hill. By the time I can get to it, you'll be beyond anything I can do. With what little I've already shown you about hunting and your flying that makes it incredibly easy to find deer, you can get by yourself.


"However, if you aren't going to leave and you come with the rest of us, I need you to put this shit behind us."


Was-was John telling the truth? He wouldn't stop Sihlas if he left now? Or was it a trick to make him stay?


If John really was depraved and wished to inflict it upon Sihlas, why was he pretending like this?


Sihlas looked at the crossbow up and across the hillside from where he lay and over to John who was walking away.


Before he got very far, John stopped and turned to Sihlas as he reached under his mail to pull something from under his armor.


"Oh yeah, I forgot to give this back to you earlier. It slipped my mind cause I haven't taken my armor off since we left the castle."


John tossed whatever to Sihlas. Without thinking, Sihlas caught it by reflex with a flinch of pain and looked down at what it was.


Sihlas recognized it. A small square wooden box that had changed from the last time he had seen it.


It had dark stains on the wood. He recognized that stain color as old blood stains. The thought of whose blood that was and how it had gotten there almost made Sihlas wretch from how nauseous it made him. In the center of the lid on top there was a thumb-sized hole that had been made something that punctured the lid.


It was his picture box. A single small shake told him his drawings were in there as well.


Sihlas sat up. The fight in him had left him, making him feel empty. If John was telling the truth, which Sihlas was coming to believe he was, then John was his friend. Who he'd just tried to kill over something that wasn't true. John had never wanted to hurt him.


Sihlas felt wretched and confused. Should he still hate John for his actions in slaughtering his kind? Should he hate John for causing the rebellion to fail? Should he like him for removing him from the prison and whatever punishment he had spoken of?


He didn't know what to think. All he knew was that now he felt... numb and empty. Slightly guilty. But most of all, tired and in pain.


The last few days and especially the last hour had been a constant rollercoaster of emotions, and now it was all too much. Everything had been taken out of him. He'd decide later.


John hadn't resumed walking, and sensing John was about to talk, Sihlas looked back over to John. John was now reserved and severe.


"I thought of you as my friend Sihlas."


Sihlas was so emotionally exhausted the words didn't bother him, but he knew he would fell his heart prick with guilt at that later.


"That is why I went so far to save your life. It's why I let a soldier who I had heard assault a youngling and enjoy it just a few minutes before that spit on me and mock me in exchange for getting the privilege of buying for an exorbitant price the picture box of my friend who I thought had been killed just minutes before.


"In honor of that, I will give you one chance to keep traveling with us if you want despite what you just tried to do. If you'd rather go on your own that is fine too. But if you are going to join the rest of us, by the time I get back, you better be with me or already be there.


"Whether or not you join or not, if we are going to keep being friends, here is a small bit of what I expect of my friends.


"First and most importantly, I give them a lot of my loyalty and I expect the same back, and if we have differences we agree to disagree.


"Part of what that bit about loyalty means is that I don't just trust whatever someone else says about them. I talk to them before I just accuse them or believe they did something that seems unlike them.


"This also means that if it comes between my friend and a stranger, all things equal, I help my friend out first. That is what all this has been. I told the High Marshal if he wanted me to help his daughter, he had to let go of you."


John had said that to the High Marshal? For him? And Sihlas had repaid by trying to kill him. He was glad he was emotionally numb at that moment.


"Now, I'm going to start heading back to the wagon," John finished and began walking away.


After a few more steps he stopped and turned back one final time to Sihlas who was still sitting there unmoving.


"Oh yes. One more thing. If you ever try something like ever again to me or any of my friends, I'll smash your head in."


With that, John left.


Sihlas watched as he walked up the hillside to grab the crossbow and the pack containing their supplies, and then he began the journey back to the wagon.


Sihlas just sat there until sundown. As he recovered his thoughts and emotions turned chaotic and confusing for entirely new reasons now, and he struggled with what he should believe and feel about John.


He had hated and feared him so strongly, and now that was just... empty.


On that hillside that night he had an uneasy and uncomfortable rest filled with terrible dreams where he was condemned by everyone.


The next morning Sihlas would make his choice.


Feeling much better despite the uneasy rest, only some remaining pain and bruises, he opened his picture box. He opened the box and discovered a few of the pictures had some small tears, torn when whatever had punched a hole in the lid had hit them.


John had kept the box above his heart and something had hit it.


He ran his fingers over the drawings and remembered the joy of them being given to him and the wondrous dreams of adventure he had gotten from them those few nights before the rebellion.


As he walked over to pick up his spear, Sihlas realized that the freedom to explore the world he had dreamed of back then, it was still a pleasant thought but now felt hollow. After everything that had happened, he knew there were more important things than his own desires.


He knew that he wanted to do something more than just be a nomadic hermit hiding from the world. He wasn't sure what yet, but that was no longer enough for him.


That made it easy then.


His choice made, he took to the air.


__________________________________________________



AN:
I think I wasn't good enough at writing the emotions in this one to convey everything as well as other chapters. I don't feel like they hit as well. Especially as I had to do a lot more "tell" than usual.

Sihlas is very complicated to write at this point, and I can't even begin to think how I could show the complexities of his emotions better and more succinctly than how I did it in this chapter.

Maybe if I wanted to spend tons of time with him internally monologuing about how he feels about everything (more than I already do), but I don't think that would be a good use of word count and this much already seems a little too much.

There is an entire arc's worth of traumatized-teen-emo-crap he had been going through that we didn't get to see on screen that built up to this. This is made doubly hard from his own "limited-omniscient" POV that I have chosen to do for this story because Sihlas doesn't even get everything he is going through ATM.

But I had to stop messing with it after getting hung up on just this chapter for three days.

I hope I was able to at least somewhat show what is going on with him even if I think you guys just get the gist of it and don't have details about exactly everything that is going on in his head.