1370: Change – Part 7 1370: Change – Part 7 “Hm?” Nila prodded for him to continue.
“When a battle is over, a first man’s thought should naturally be for the dead.
Before victory can be celebrated, one must take account of what one has lost.
But the First King, he doesn’t even ntion the dead.
He ntions the ga,” Oliver said, frowning.
“What does he even an by that?
Is the battlefield such a distant thing for him, that he doesn’t worry about the consequences?
That can’t be right.
He’s a man expected enough that he was the forefather of a nation.
If he didn’t care about his n, they wouldn’t have followed him.” “…He doesn’t sound like a particularly nice man, when he speaks of the battlefield as a ga,” Nila said with a shudder.
Her experiences of battle were traumatic, to say the least.
Every ti she’d been forced to take to the field, she’d done so needing to protect sothing that was precious to him, more so than her own life.
“…It is fun, though,” Lasha said.
She was looking up at the ceiling, with the flas on her back, hardly speaking to them.
“When… you find a worthy opponent, isn’t that terribly fun?” “When there aren’t lives at stake…” Oliver said.
“And when you don’t have to worry about the consequences… When there isn’t another man on the line.
Wait, actually, that was another thing that the First King did that was strange – he yet the Yarmdon enemy, a man by the na of King Gavgon, escaped three tis… Why did he bother doing that?” “What do you an, escape?” Nila said.
“You an, he made a strategic choice?
Aren’t there tis when that’s ant to be a clever thing to do?
After all, sotis I let prey run, to give myself an easier ti catching it later.” “No,” Oliver said firmly.
“He didn’t do it with any such thoughts in mind… He declares so.
He just says ‘it would have been a waste to rid myself of further competition with him,’ and then he lets him go, only to fight him three more tis, with tens of thousands of lives and casualties each ti… Gods be good, our First King was a mad man.” Nila listened patiently, with a frown on her face.
“…That doesn’t sound like it’s right.” “It’s the sort of thing father would do,” Blackthorn admitted from by the fire, with the most lazy of expressions on her face.
“That’s a worrying thing to hear,” Oliver said.
“It seems to be the opposite of what Queen Asabel would want.” “That is how… father got so strong,” Blackthorn said, yawning into her hand.
“By battling more than the normal person, you an?” Oliver asked.
He tilted his head to the side, and considered it.
Just by the sheer number of battles fought, the First King and General Blackthorn would see their numbers extended by keeping valuable enemies alive… But sohow, he didn’t think that their thought processes were so scientific.
Nor did he think that the solutions were truly that simple.
Nila found herself echoing Blackthorn’s yawn.
“Maybe it’s just like, everyone has a flaw…” She said, using the back of her hand to wipe her watery eyes after her yawn.
“You’re both rather tired,” Oliver said in amusent.
“Or am I boring you with talk of dusty books?” “No at all,” Nila said quickly, fighting to appear more alert.
“It’s just… late?
Or no, it’s not even as late as I thought it was.
Hmm, I wonder why I am so tired?” She looked out the window, and saw that there were still traces of the sunlight as it fought with the moon and began to set for the day.
But it wasn’t nearly quite late enough to go to bed yet.
Blackthorn, by contrast, was swaying on her feet.
Her eyes made no real fight to stay open.
Oliver watched her gradually lean further and further backwards, until her skirt was all but touching its flas.
“…By the Gods Lasha!” Nila shouted, horrified, grabbing her by the hand before she could fall all the way in.
“If you want to rest by the fire, we can pull you over a chair… Oh, but these are all rather fancy.
If a spark got to them, it would burn a hole straight through.” “I do not mind,” Oliver said.
“The leather-backed sofa shouldn’t be so bad, should it?” “Mm, if you’re okay with it,” Nila said.
“Hold on a second, Lasha.” She carefully pulled Lasha up, and tried to hold her in place, as if she was balancing rocks.
Even then, it didn’t seem like she could trust her.
The leather sofa was a two seater, sat on a sturdy wooden fra.
It was a heavy thing to move, but being of the Second Boundary, Nila found no problems with it.
She set it a sensible distance from the fire, so that Lasha could sit down, and still feel the warmth of the flas on her face.
Lasha murmured to Nila gratefully, and accepted the seat.
“What did you do to leave you both so exhausted?” Oliver said with a raised eyebrow.
He could see Nila’s movents beginning to flag as well.
“I don’t know if you could call it hunting…” Nila said.
“I an, we did that too, but most of it… Most of it was just silly.
I suppose we played around a bit.
I wonder when the last ti I did that was?
It’s strange how doing sothing aimless like that could be so fun.
Ah, but it wasn’t really who made it fun.
It was Lasha being silly.
She still rembers how to play, like a little girl would.
I’m almost jealous.” Blackthorn gave a murmur from her seat by the fire.
She was already slumped over, and leaning her head against the sofa’s arm, almost completely lying down.
“I didn’t an that as an insult,” Nila assured her.
“I think it’s a wonderful thing.
You were able to make a ga out of what would just be a normal walk for other people.
That’s quite special, isn’t it?”
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