Chapter 150
Beneath the Armor
Sylas sat on a cold, rough rock, snow careening from the high sky and covering the surrounding landscape in thick layers of white. There was a gourd of ale in his hand, half-drank already, and innurable thoughts swimming in his mind. Stories were weaving, and a myriad of scenarios was being concocted by his mind every second. So, oh-so-many possibilities existed... yet only one truth.
Independent from the story of the dead was his own--he suspected that his 'summoning' still had nothing to do with the dead, actually, and that it was ultimately his own noisiness that dragged him into it in part and in the other part the sheer cosmic coincidence.
He was rely a bannerman for a future King, a man with the power of foresight through demise to remove weeds and roadblocks from the Prince's path. He was never ant to travel north, nor was he ever ant to learn magic, nor most of the things he had done, chief among which was befriending a Prophet.
The King, during their brief conversation, all but said that Sylas purpose was singular--bringing Valen to the throne. All else, it seed, did not matter. And yet again, questions persisted. If Valen needed to be Crowned, why was he banished? Why the subterfuge, the shadowplays, the secrets, and the lies? After all, the man was the King--the ultimate ruler of the nation. His word was final, his writs laws. And yet, even he, in all his might and wisdom, decreed it worthy of banishing Valen into the far, frigid north, and sohow orchestrating the summoning of a man from another world, in addition to granting him the level of magic that altered the reality, over simply retiring and giving the Prince his throne.
Taking a sip, Sylas' brows furrowed. The world was a vast array of tales and stories, but he was just one man, stuck on a singular road, with few ans and ways of reaching out. Everything he'd learned thus far he'd had to claw and bleed and mostly die for, in fact. And with each new revelation, it felt as though he was just on the cusps of sothing worldwide... but never quite touching it. Like a carrot and a stick, it felt as though the world was baiting him through cliffhangers, in a way, to continue onward.
What peeved him the most was that the explanation for it all was likely simple. His current conjecture was a fairly basic one: back before, for as long the histories went, Gods and n had a subservient relationship--Gods likely demanded worship, possibly sacrifice, and used mankind in proxy wars and sickly gas. Ever so often, theyd award individuals with strength beyond asure, Championing them, using other people as vessels for communications, creating Prophets.
Whether by the spurring of an outside force, such as Immortals, or mankinds innate defiance and stubbornness, a rebellion occurred. The people of Empire, probably with the help of those backchannels and possibly even so Gods who sympathized, began trying to unwind the worlds, to try and craft a veil between the two, segregating them. At the sa ti, from the sounds of it, barbarians--or likely just nomadic tribes that have been hunted down by the Empire over the course of history--united and marched, using the opportunity where the Empire was weakened.
It is entirely possible that the barbarians didnt destroy everything to cover their sha, but likely as an exercise of vengeance. Then again, they might have realized the sin of the Empire and did all in their power to distance themselves from it. So remnants of the Empire survived, and even continued to thrive in the newfound Kingdoms, and from the sounds of it, even a few Champions lived on, likely acting as watchers if anyone gets inspired to create a new Cairn.
Then again, it was all just one possibility. Any change, even sothing as simple as 'barbarians' being just normal citizens of the Empire who didn't like that their leaders were warring against the Gods, entirely shifts the story and changes many of its aspects.
The grit of it all, Sylas suspected, however, was the fra he envisioned--a war to end all wars, as famously declared. But then the question ca... what the hell was he doing here? He was beyond certain that he was not summoned by Gods in any capacity. The differences between how Ryne and Asha operated versus how he communicated with his overlords were simply too different.
One thing about his experiences in this world stood out the most--the fact that he interacted with the crow and the doe. Not just interacted, but they directly spoke to him. He didn't think they in specific summoned him, but it was entirely possible that it was so other Immortals. After all, from what he knew, no other entity had the magic of such magnitude at its disposal. Certainly not enough to waste it on summoning him of all people and granting him effective immortality.
There was also that key aspect--immortality. Even Gods, according to what he was told several tis, could die. Be that from wounds or old age was fairly irrelevant. They were not immortal. And yet, he was--in a way, at least.
Hed tried finding information on the Immortals and Gods, specifically those believed to have the power over ti and space and such. However, there was nothing. Whatever information existed was incredibly vague and clearly just one of those we dont get it, so lets just make up sothing scenarios.
Yet, that felt like a solitary, possible explanation for him, specifically. All else notwithstanding, as it could just as well be just a fantasy version of an Empire being eaten from within and without, he was the grandstanding anomaly. An unlikely brood, and a variable in the equation that made every mathematician assign him a very specific number just to do away with him.
But life wasnt an equation, and it wasnt the land of hypotheticals. Whoever ushered him here, and whoever wrought upon him the magic of immortality, had to have those gifts themselves. Just as the ugly man whod only ever seen himself in the mirror cannot sculpt beauty, a mortal, frail, and tid creature cannot grant immortality, wants notwithstanding.
That he was asked not to question it, that he was expected not to pursue it... sowhat angered him. To ignore his own visage was a selfless act that hed never undertake. Even if he was of the singular mind to put Valen on the throne and hopefully be granted retirent, he was very much keen on learning his own circumstances, the ans and ways which led him from the single-bedroom apartnt infested with cockroaches and ants to here, to the bloodied immortality.
You vanished, a quaint voice called out to him, causing him to slip out of his thoughts and face back. She stood barefoot in the snow, her visage downtrodden, her white hair whipping in the gentle wind. I looked for you everywhere. She repeated, her voice uncertain. The look in her eyes invoked guilt within Sylas for a mont before he forcibly dispelled it. He couldnt have let her see him like that.
I had to go do sothing, he said.
Sothing awful, I imagine, if you left behind, she read through him, staying her distance.
... aye, sothing awful, he ascertained.
Did it help, at least? she quizzed.
Marginally, Sylas replied with a sigh.
I thought you were doing better.
I am. Of course I am.
I thought you put it behind you.
Ive learned new things, he tried to steer the conversation.
But youre just walking in place, Sylas, she ignored him. You tell us, tell what we want to hear. You sweeten our ears and our eyes with pretty words and smiles, but they an nothing.
... Sylas remained silent for a mont. Though he despised the utterance of they wouldnt understand, in this case, they truly wouldnt. And he had no desire whatsoever to share what he actually did, even if he had it didnt actually happen excuse. n dont change in leaps, Asha, he said. We dont bound bridges when a pretty little thing kisses us.
...
Certain things, even with all the love and support in the world, stay with us, root and fernt with us, and die with us. We get better, we beco happier, but its a journey, not a turn of the page. So get better by talking, venting the truths of their souls. Im not like that.
What are you like, then? she asked. A liar?
Yes, he replied. I lie and I fake and I cheat and I hide things from the people I care for. I do not want my words to undo your smiles. What am I like, you ask? Mad, in many ways. Mad and angry. But you need not see those parts of .
I want--
I don't want you to see them," he interrupted. "I... I like the way you see , Asha. I like the way people in the castle see . Silver-tongued, funny, broad-backed man with many ans and ways. I like when Ryne looks up to with this wonder in her eyes, the spitfire respect of a teenager toward an adult. I like when Valen poses a question and then stealthily glances at , as though I'm the only man with answers. I am selfish for those things, for those monts when the world around looks at and sees this... this good thing. This man that inspires them. And day after day, I fight to truly be that man. I fight with the world and myself to keep the whispers at bay so that each day I can smile and be who they want and expect to be. It doesn't an I'm ignoring myself," he added with a faint smile. "rely that I'm using you guys as my strength in the ti of need. Sotis... sotis though, that strength fails. And I don't want anyone to see when it does. I don't want to break the illusion, as it were."
Youre a strange man, Sylas, she said, walking forward and stopping by the stone, looking up at him with a faintly smiling expression. But for all your street wisdom, as you call it, you fail to realize why people like you. It is not your silver tongue, nor your vaguely juvenile humor. It is because we get to see the man beneath the armor, she pulled him down by his legs, forcing him to stand in front of her, and placing her hand against his chest. Beneath all the bravado, beneath all the anger at the world and himself. And that man is good. He cares, he loves, and he fights for those who would otherwise be shieldless. We like that man, Sylas. Soone who would stay and defend the castle for countless, heartbreaking lifetis instead of simply walking away.
...
I know you are angry, she added, leaning her head against his chest, as though to listen to his heart. But I dont mind that anger. Of course you are angry. Everyone is, Sylas, including . We are only human, after all, she pulled back. Reigned and ruled by such primitive things. We may build high towers and palaces and castles and we may spread as far as the sun casts its light, but the simple truth is that... we always surrender to sothing primal. Fear, loathing, love, anger, sadness, apathy. But I understand, she added, widening her smile. n need their hours, they say, apart from the world. Im no longer that naive girl you t in the frosted fjords, she chuckled as she spun around and began walking away, tossing her head back for a mont and shooting the last sentence at him. I am a naive woman now, and I shall have my respect!
... Sylas stayed silent for a mont before cracking out into laughter, shaking his head as she walked away through the naked trees and toward the castle. There was sothing cathartic about him being lectured so nakedly in the reflective woods, with no canopy to alter the sha. He didnt linger long on it, however, his mind swiftly drifting back to the questions of the Kingdom, of the dead, and of him and the things that brought him here.
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