When the Final Seal Breaks

11th Entry

The council called me up for another session. It was technically a closed session, but they had no idea what a training ground needed, so I was invited to advise.

At least, that was what they said I was called for. As soon as I arrived, with Orleris as my personal advocate, it was pretty clear my stunt from the other day was weighing heavily in the air. I could feel the tension. Any heavier and I would have been worried it was miasma.

The first question, and you couldn't pay me to bother to remember all their names, was from a guy that seemed around the same age as Navar. "Are you able to summon those weapons anywhere?"

I think I should have laughed at him. Instead, I watched him silently. He clarified that he was asking if there was a specific geographical or physical requirement for a site to build a training ground, but it felt more like he wanted to know if I could unleash an arrow right there. Quite frankly, it was a nonsensical question in the first place. They still had magic, just not combat magic in the same sense as I did. How could he think there was some kind of limitation?

I summoned a dagger for him and confirmed his fear, then I clarified that all the training ground really needed was to be insulated enough from buildings and civilians that even the most wildly off target spell wouldn't harm anyone outside the grounds. If Eloitte could get her machine fixed up enough to handle real combat magic, we would be fine anywhere with enough space.

I kept the dagger out, letting it spin slowly in the air above my hand. At least, I planned to keep it out so we could get past the dumb questions, but Orleris gave me a disapproving look. Was he my personal advocate or my personal sitter? If he opened his mouth, I'm sure he would have said that there was no reason to be so threatening in my actions.

Yes, ok. If it is you reading this, Orleris, I did put it away because of that look. You got me.

But you know, I hadn't thought too much about the way I phrased it, but the next question that came back actually caught me off guard. And it was Navar. He asked, "Who would be a civilian?"

See, I thought they didn't know the definition of the word. Its miracle enough that we can even understand each other when I think about it but given the situation in this world leading up to present, it just made sense to me that they might not even have a way to differentiate between those who were going to fight and those who weren't. At least, that's my definition. So, I explained.

With a completely neutral face, Navar...

"If the threat of the Demon Lord is as serious as advertised, we don't have the luxury of there being people on the sidelines."

I felt my stomach drop. Its true, miasma and the Demon Lord wouldn't exactly abide by war conventions of my world, leaving women, children and non combatants out of the crosshairs, but-

I guess this is directed at you. I've thought about it a lot all day since the meeting ended. Navar, even if everyone has something they can contribute, that doesn't mean you have to wring them dry for it. If your wife was put in charge of a miasma barrier and became the first target of a demon invasion in Liliales, would you really have nothing to say about that? What about children? What about your daughter? What about people who are too scared to fight? People who are too ill, or sick, or weak to fight? Are you fighting for the literal land? The ground? Why do people fight?

But you know? I can't say that out loud. Just asking that question makes realize I'm a hypocrite. I don't want anyone to ask me. I don't know why I'm fighting either.

I've already said so many times that I don't feel like a hero. But I am a protagonist, right? In this world, as the one who saved people in the past, and the one here to save them again, I am someone with a story to be told. How do all the heroes in my games end up taking on the role? Why are they fighting?