Chapter 43: Chapter 42

The city, was on fire. Was kind of to be expected really, since when the guards started fighting the Witches, the slaves took this as an oppitunity to revolt, and started setting fire to anything and everything they could get their hands on. Estaria fought them when they got in her way, and felt nothing about crushing them under heel. They weren’t of use enough to be with the Witches or the Guards, so why bother mourning for them? If there was one thing you could always say about humans, it was that there would always be more of them, whatever you did.

 

Though Filnon had no intention of trying to take on the city, and so made a beeline for the Cult, with Estaria in tow. Here, she was deposited inside, ostensibly to defend the women yet to be fully fledged Witches. And yet, everyone was aware that it was so she could rest the many wounds she had obtained rescuing Fukuri. She would stand and protect them if someone came to attack, but until that point, it was a valid excuse to get her off her feet. 

 

“You are an idiot” a voice came from behind Estaria after she arrived and took a slumped guard position. Looking over, there was the elegant beauty of Fukuri, a long blade in it’s sheath and Witch Armour ready for war.

“Maybe, but I couldn’t let you get in a fight. It was a very pretty dress” Estaria replied, with a coy smile. Fukuri seemed still a little disturbed about the whole situation, but trying her best to fight it off by focusing on the situation at hand. 

“Tsk. I ripped that thing off and burned it in the braziers as soon as I got here” Fukuri replied, bristling at the idea of wearing it any longer.

“I guess it was a bit unfeeling of me to suggest you keep the horrific kidnap dress” Estaria replied, scratching her head softly. 

“Ehh, you weren’t wrong. It was a lovely dress. Just…you know” Fukuri would shrug and turn from the topic, looking out into the burning city. It was good that she was here, it let Es take a nap. She was thinking about asking about Aria, but Fukuri had enough troubles right now, and it was pretty obvious what happened to the Hag, given everything.

 

A nap turned out to be a lot more needed than she expected, because next thing she knew, she was gently shaken awake by someone trying to wash the dried blood off her face. Opening her eyes, she took the cloth off the young Druchii and suggested she go help someone who needed it a bit more. From the buzz of the situation, the wounded Witches around, and everyone here rather than out there, the fight had come to an end, in victory for their side. There was never any doubt, with Filnon on their side, only how long it would take them. 

 

Speaking of, Filnon was not around. So, cleaning off her face and giving the rag off to get washed, she would walk out into the city. It was a mess, death was everywhere, and half the cit was smoldering, burned out or destroyed from the fights. Using the minimap, and navigating over the wreckage and ruin, she managed to find Filnon, staring into a pyre where she was stripping the dead guards and then throwing them on.

 

“Are all Death Nights like this?” She asked, stepping up to the woman and reaching out to take Filnon’s hand. The mood and moment was somber, but Filnon didn’t need someone moping around. She needed some light-hearted levity to get her out of the blood-drenched mindset that she was in. 

“I thought I hated them” Filnon replied, looking up to Estaria, and then looking back to the pyre again. “I thought I could just get rid of them all without blinking an eye. But, turns out I really just pity them. The lives they live, the society they are in, the troubles they have. It’s not hatred after all”

 

Filnon would run her free hand through her hair and shake her head at the situation, giving a self-depreciating laugh.

“They would call me a pathetic wastral for feeling such emotions. But, they are there, and I can’t do anything about it. Druchii society being as it is, I am going to need to kill them en masse again before the end, and I am going to feel such pity for each one I slay, every time” Filnon would then let out a sudden noise as Estaria dragged her into a hug.

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“I get it. There is a difference between killing one or two people in a heated situation, and butchering dozens of your own kind in rapid succession. We get plenty of soldiers in the army that get the shakes or freeze up or have nightmares after their first fight. We know they are our enemy, we know they hate us, we know they will kill us if given a moment of hesitation. And yet we can’t help but feel despair for killing so many of our own people.

 

I think it’s some kind of survival mechanism. While self-defense and one or two is never much of an issue, slaughtering dozens of your own kind has some kind of mental impact that makes you not want to do it. We are all hard-wired towards violence, and this helps us not wipe ourselves out. 

 

If it is a big problem, we can look into giving people a choice to surrender, to talk it out or otherwise deal with this in a none hostile situation. We know they are rarely going to accept it, or even if they do accept it, they are going to try and take advantage of that to kill us. But, we can offer, because it puts our mind at ease”

 

Filnon would look up at Estaria after her explanation, and nod softly. It was a great offer, and a great idea.

 

“So, tell me what we got planned now. Here is a little depopulated and burned down to really be worth staying around” Estaria asked, picking up one of the corpses and hefting it onto the Pyre to help Filnon with her body-clearing guilt.

“It wasn’t a lie to say we are going to Har Ganeth. A dangerous trek through the wilderness, and then glorious arenas the likes of which have never been seen by either of us” Filnon spoke, looking over to Es and then giving a soft attempt at a smile. “So you might need this” she would hold up a sword, which Es tenatively took, and pulled out. A runed Scimitar, glowing softly with the power of Winter, she immediately knew what it was. 

“Ulric’s Fang! You found it!” she exclaimed, grinning widely, glad to have it bad in her possession.

“Mmm, it was put in processing, and then disappeared from there. Turned up in the hands of one of the Master’s Guards, which I liberated” Filnon explained. Though despite her glee, Es pursed her lips.

“You know, good as the thing is, I’ve gotten used to my fists, and kind of like the intimacy of it these days. And you dual wield shortswords, so a sword this size is no use to you. But…it’s perfect for Fukuri” Estaria commented, nodding softly.

 

“You spoil that girl like she’s your own daughter. First the Heart, now this sword? Honestly, it’s enough to make someone jealous” Filnon would tease, trying to get out of her slump.

“Well, maybe I’ll just spoil you later tonight, hmm?~ Always wanted to see how well I could do a massage” 

“That, my dear Estaria, sounds like a damn good deal”

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