Scales and Swords ✓

38: Forgiveness

(a/n: reader discretion is advised, mention of self-harm) 

The old man pushed his door open. "Bring him this way," he instructed.

I carried Lucius towards a room just across from the front door.

"Lay him on the bed," the old man said. I did as I was told, laying Lucius stomach-down onto the bed. "Am I correct in assuming that he's a light fairy?"

I nodded through the tears.

"It's best if you wait outside then."

When I left the room my knees gave in and I fell to the floor, holding my head in my hands as I prayed for my friend to be fine. Worry soon transformed into guilt and I began to hate myself for what I let happen to him. My hands squeezed into fists and I no longer had control over what they did. Before I knew it my hands were in my hair and the skin of my head mellowed with pain. I can't recall how long I sat in that position, because the concept of time was muddled by my relentlessly repeating thoughts.

The door opened beside me and I jolted to my feet. "Is he, is he..."

"Your friend will be just fine he just needs to rest." His cheeks rippled with a smile as his eyes crinkled at the edges. "Why don't I fetch you a pail of water to wipe off the blood. And then I can get you something to eat."

"Oh please no," I begged. "You've already done enough; I'll leave with my friend as soon as he wakes if you don't mind."

He shook his head. "Nonsense, come along." He started for the hallway just opposite the room. At the end of the hallway was a door that led outside to a meadow. I begrudgingly followed suit the old man. From a well, he fetched me a pail of water. "I'll heat up some stew for you. And I won't take no for an answer."

He left me to my own company and for a while I just stood there staring at my reflection in the pail of water. Only when I saw the blood on my face did I feel it. On the side of my face and in my hair, all over my arm, on both my hands. I scrubbed the blood off my face and squeezed it out of my hair, off my hands and arm, till the bruises beneath were revealed. And then I'm crying when I see them. Because I'm tired of being exhausted. Because water doesn't wash away my thoughts, the pain, nor what I did. Every part of me ached and I couldn't move a muscle. My tears join the mixture of blood and water and ripple the reflection of the moon. When the pain subsides, I'm left empty and unable to stand.

"Don't blame yourself," I heard him say behind me. "It does no one any good."

"What is good?" I asked. I swallowed, but my throat wrenched, as dry as a desert. "Tell me, what makes something good?"

"I've lived more than 70 years and questions like these still rattle me." He gave me his hand and I took it, knowing that if I didn't I never could have stood on my own. "But I am an ordained minister of the church so maybe I can spare some advice, over a bowl of stew."

And then I'm eating stew in an old man's hut after barging into his home with my bleeding friend whom he treated and after using his fresh water to wipe off my friend's blood.

"What are your names?" he asked, regarding me as I ate.

I hesitated. "December, my name is December. My friend's name is Dave."

He cracked a smile. "What a coincidence. My name is David."

"Thank you, for everything."

He shook his head. "No don't thank me. I just happened to be a light fairy who lived in the area."

For a moment we don't say a thing. I eat in silence. But the food tastes like nothing, sliding down my throat and filling my stomach with barely any notice. And then I start to tear up again because I think of Lucius. And I can't eat because I feel like I'll choke.

"I had grandsons," David began. "I took the oldest when he was just a baby because my daughter was still young when she had him. I raised the boy and I'm glad I can say that he turned into a fine young man. When he was just 10 years of age his mother returned with another little boy, his half-brother, his brother nonetheless, and my other grandson.

"My oldest grandson, the one I raised, was a light fairy like your friend and I, but he was only half. The other half of him was human, which made him a vuruk. As his guardian I was required to declare him to the authorities, but I never did, because I feared for what they'd do to him in the army. I raised him in secret. His brother on the other hand was a full fairy, but he didn't possess light-fairy qualities, instead he became a garden fairy like his father. I loved them both dearly.

"They were just young boys when their mother brought them together, and I had never seen brothers who had just met bond as quickly as they did. The oldest had to cover every inch his skin though, when he was near his brother, but when he was in his room, he was allowed to take off the covers. One night his younger brother knocked at his door. I was the only person allowed into his room, and he knew that. So when he opened his door he didn't expect to see his little brother. But my youngest saw his brother's bare skin and a second was all he needed to be blinded and burnt. His brother shut the door but it was too late.

"Their mother took the youngest away. They were separated. But that incident broke my oldest. The guilt hurt him to the point where he hated himself so much, he refused to eat, he refused to leave his room, to think that he mattered. I felt that it was my fault as well, if I had kept them apart maybe they'd both be fine. So did that make my oldest grandson a bad person?"

"But he didn't mean it, it was an accident."

"What if he meant it?"

I gulped. "What do you mean?"

"What if it wasn't an accident, what would he have been? A good person, or a bad person?"

I was stunned. I felt I had no right to judge another, not when I was in the position I was in.

"Does it matter," he smiled, but it didn't meet his teary eyes. "What had been done was done. My oldest grandson believed that he was monster. And that guilt crushed him. But you see, no one person is purely good. And to expect that of someone is to expect something beyond our reality. Instead we should accept our fallen selves as they are and strive to always do good no matter how difficult life gets. In the turmoil of guilt and regret he needed his brother to say he'd accepted what he had done and he'd choose to love him again. He needed his brother to forgive him."

"And did he?"

"Forgiveness might take a while but the heart isn't as hard as people believe it to be. They will yield. But I have yet to answer your question, have I? What makes something good, you asked. I could tell you what it means, but that would be what good is to me, you could believe it to be something completely different, then good seems to lose meaning and become an opinion. When we allow everyone to define good for themselves there is conflict. Which was why laws were made to govern, to define good for us, but I think we can both agree that laws can be as flawed as our opinions, for they are just opinions of a few or the majority but never all. Should I hate a man who took another's life? No, but I can't help it and I'll tell you why. Do you know the story of the beast and the human?"

I nodded soundlessly.

"When the gods sent the human they sent with him the Lyle, written instructions to guide their decisions, a rule book, to bring about peace and to bring the beast closer to the gods. For they knew the human was as flawed as the beast. The Lyle tells us what good truly is but in the absence of it, we can only rely on ourselves. They say the downfall of the beast was pride. And that is true but the church believes that, maybe the beast wasn't as evil as everyone makes him out to be. He was born from the forces of the gods, surely they placed in him a piece of their heart as well. And if he has a piece of their heart, maybe we have a piece as well in all of us. A piece that guides our actions. That mirrors the scriptures of the Lyle. Mortals know good and are perfectly capable of goodness. But if you choose anything other than good then you fall into evil. Pride fools you into forsaking the good law and you become incapable of guilt. And as a result the world returns to chaos and war. But if you hold steadfast to what is truly good, you will know guilt in your evil deeds and you can choose to change." 

a/n: so i was going over the world building and i realized that i hadn't really mentioned a religion or religions. And there can't be a world with mortals and no religion, so this happened. also, shit, i just realized i created a whole bunch of characters, which means imma need to yeet some peeps