Blaze of Reasoning - Peace's Kindling

Chapter 8: Toll of the Ashen Bell

"Be not afraid, Ashbel Hagen."

That voice - or more accurately, those voices. Many different pitches, but all spoken in one tone - a comforting, sincere one. Anywhere else, and it would've been intimidating, frightening. But this...something about this gave him solace. The warm and fuzzy feeling inside him immediately tipped him off, so as he sat up, he let out a small chuckle, shaking his head.

"Hey, Torch." he said, offering a brief wave as if he were talking to a friend. "You, uh, think you might have the wrong guy?"

"If it is Ashbel Hagen who stands before us, then we have not erred."

"Well, technically, I'm sitting, so..." Ashbel quipped, realising that he felt rejuvenated all of a sudden, and slowly rising to his feet as he looked up at the blazing artefact. Once he gazed into the black flames, his expression grew a little more serious. "I don't get it."

"Then feel free to ask. But the flames of war rage around us as we speak."

Right...Sly was still there, fighting, wasn't he? Ashbel had made sure of it personally, that he had been the first defeated. Hopefully, Sly's stealth shenanigans could keep him busy for longer. He took a deep breath, scratching his neck and staring at the Torch closely. "Why are we here? Why am I talking to you? Is this some kind of dying hallucination?"

"This is all very real. We have brought you here because we see your potential."

"Uh, what? You're kidding." Ashbel deadpanned, raising an eyebrow. "'Potential'? Me?"

"Indeed. You are not the best choice, nor are you the worst. But you are a choice nonetheless. We have opted to give you a chance to get out of your current predicament."

"Yeah, me being a choice is kinda where you've lost me." Ashbel narrowed his eyes, looking around at the dark, featureless surroundings before watching the Torch's flame flicker. "I'm just a sellsword. I don't work for free, I'm not all gallant and selfless, and I'm pretty sure if you offered me enough money, I'd have to really think about it before deciding whether or not to kill a child. And you think someone like me can save your world?"

"And yet, you came here on your own to prevent our power from falling into the wrong hands - to protect your fellow demons, and to honour your client's wishes. You may be more selfless than you realise."

Ashbel remained silent, unsure what to make of these words, and allowed the Torch to continue speaking. He frowned slightly, though he allowed his stance to become less tense.

"Ashbel...we believe you can be much better than you believe yourself to be. And all that we ask of you is to take this responsibility into your own hands."

"I-I can't. I came here for Vi." Ashbel shook his head.

"Viera Abner...your client. Your covetous client who is not here, who slumbers restlessly in the inn you left her in."

Ashbel closed his eyes, taking another deep breath as he tried to think of what to say to that, but the telepathic voices of the Torch beat him to that.

"But the Rook is here. And if you wait too long, he shall most certainly slay Sylvester, and the Torch will fall into the hands of your enemies. We assure you, there is a way to prevent that from happening. Would you like to guess what it is?"

"I think I've got a pretty good idea." Ashbel sighed. "I'd offer Viera a refund, but she didn't actually pay anything, so..."

He chuckled at that, looking at the Torch - naturally, since there was nothing else here to look at. It was curious to look at, too, so it did a good enough job snatching his attention on its own. "Tell me, Torch, if I accept your offer, what exactly do I have to do?"