"Good people," I couldn’t just jump into an ice-cold river in early spring without any preparation!
Now... the thing was, if soone was heavy enough, then they were going to sink.
I had no illusion that I could get that effect with food.
Or at least, not 100% of the ti.
The Trial by Water was a simple thing. A barbaric thing.
If one floated, they were pulled out. Killed on the spot. Because, apparently, since there was no fish in extrely pure mountain water, then said pure water rejected everything.
But the Trial by Water was not always conducted in extrely pure mountain springs.
Not that the bloodthirsty mobs cared.
What one could hope for as the best-case scenario for one of those trails was to sink.
That ant that one had to stay under the water, drowning, until so bigot decided that the water accepted them and wanted to send them off to Heaven.
Even if I wasn’t going to be going in for a dip, I would have still cooked up this plan.
A plan I needed Nick for. Nick, who was yet to wash the bloodstains from the hems of his robes.
His eyes a place so dark, I felt a chill in my bones.
Titan was there, by my side. I knew that he was not willing to let go through with it all, but I didn’t care!
Because Hugo was right. Even if his words had been ant only to get into trouble.
"Even if we are guilty," allying yourself to the common enemy was never a good thing, but I needed to show these demons I wasn’t going to be throwing them under the wagon. "We still have the right to a final al!"
The crone spat on the ground. The crowd booed, taking sticks and stones from the ground.
"I fed you!" I roared.
Yes, roared! My blood was boiling in my veins.
Humans! Why were they like this? I gave them everything, protected them, and they...!
"Give us a final al, yes," Hugo hissed. The man was not even bothering to cover up his red eyes anymore. "If you don’t, then you have no rcy in your hearts. You will be judged, sa as us!"
"All I ask for," I had to appease the refugees sohow! "Is that you let forage for food. Gruel and nettle. That is all I ask for."
It was food so light that there was no chance of soone stuffing themselves. It was probably a fare which the refugees had been eating at the start.
"We haven’t eaten gruel in days!" The crone yelled.
Titan stepped before .
"It is a final al. They will eat gruel and nettle, and you will eat roasted pigs with chicken in their mouths," it was quite the morbid picture, but I was certain that Titan could cook such a thing, should he want to.
"Roasted pigs?" A woman asked, who was clutching at a man old enough to be her father. They even looked similar.
"Yes, roasted pigs," Titan told her. I glanced at him. His eyes were softer.
Huh, I guess that he finally got a chance to do so good. Sothing that didn’t involve killing.
He snapped his fingers. I felt as my mana was used to purchase chicken and pigs.
Living ones.
I sighed, taking hold of Aron’s hand, and then heading towards the forest. Titan was going to make pay for the con I was playing on these people.
As I heard the first pain-filled squeals of a pig which had not done anything, I knew what my boss mob was doing. He wanted to find out the hard way that what I was doing was stupid.
And like all stupid things, it had a price.
But, hey, who cared?
Nettle and gruel...
Gruel was watery oatal, with less grain. Nettle... I would need to get my gloves out.
Boil it later.
If I used any other seasonings apart from salt and pepper, I was certain that the refugees were going to crucify .
But, on the bright side, I got to see it:
The Forest of Forget--Nots, behind its barrier.
It was right there. Vibrant and lively. The birdsong soothed my ears.
"Sylvan," Aron was staring at the forest as well. I knew that he wanted to run. That he wanted to go there and never go out. "It’s not worth it."
Was it really aningless? Was I really risking it all for nothing?
"Life is always worth it," I countered, looking around. Huh, my mother wanted to live off nettle, once.
And now, I was going to use the plant for a final al. Oh, how the world...
I felt Aron’s finger wipe a tear off my cheek.
"Aron," I whispered. I felt like it really was going to be my last al. That I was going to drown in a river so muddy, my corpse wouldn’t even be gotten out.
"Aron," I didn’t know what I wanted to ask him. My brain was already seeing dark shadows in the distance.
Already feeling the cold touch of death.
"You are going to cook it by yourself," he wasn’t calling it a last al, thank the divines.
But I was. The phrase repeated in my mind like a mantra.
Was that how thuselah felt when the woodcutter ca for him? How had he stood so brave?
How did he just send away?
When I was a weapon who could have saved him? Soone he could have just taken over and used to kill the poor, rag-wearing man, who had just feared for his family?
"Aron!" I cried out, falling into his arms.
I was shaking. The forest was just as peaceful around .
My mind was swimming with thoughts about mobs and rage. About Titan covered in guts.
"Sylvan. I won’t let you bloody your hands," Aron whispered. Promising the sa thing he had promised , once, back there in Solas’ war camp.
As my world fell apart for the second ti.
I whimpered.
If I didn’t bloody my hands, then he was going to bloody his.
Kill people I fed.
I slapped myself on the cheek. I still shook. The tears still fell.
It would be an hour before I began to pick the nettle.
No gloves on my hands.
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