The man was a reluctant killer. Forced by his lord to slay any his lord demanded lest his own family be slain. He was sent after an Elf that, once he heard the name, knew that meant he would never see his family again. Not in this world at least. But the Elf, the mage, was merciful. In swearing to save the man's family, the man swore to find the families of those he had slain, and make sure those families were set up with protection and care, so the evil lord, and his brothers, would never harm them again. -- Lessons
"Go out and kill Wraithvine the Eternal," said Duke Averl, as if it were the simplest of things. "If you fail to return with his head, I shall give you the heads of your family."
Wilkinson was left with no alternative but to set forth and do as his Lord bade him. He had two tiny ones and a third on the way. He may never see them again, but if he set out and perished, the Duke could not punish those who remained. Not lawfully anyway.
To face Wraithvine in battle was to face death. So many had gone against the immortal Wizard and met their end.
In the case of Highborns and their realms of responsibility, that antagonism put the final punctuation mark on their history.
One life to pay for three, maybe four. Seemed fair. He had the guilt of four other targets weighing down his soul, anyway. This sacrifice might even out at least one of his sins.
They had been good people, when Wilkinson killed them. All they had done was attempt to make the Duchy a fairer place in which to live. Wilkinson knew that, in causing their deaths, he was not a good man.
Nevertheless, he could be honourable.
He tracked down the Elf of legend in a little dirtwater town where adventurers came from rather than settled down. Wraithvine was deep in meditation, hovering a foot above the simple cushion he must have initially sat upon.
Wilkinson waited for hir to return to the waking world.
Wraithvine the Eternal slowly returned to obeying gravity, and opened hir catlike eyes. "You have business with me?"
This was it. This was the end. "My lord the Duke Averl has sent me to slay you, or forfeit the lives of my wife and children. Therefore, ere I die by your hand, I would beg a boon. Please. Get them away from that Duchy and into a safer realm ere he decides to end them anyway." Wilkinson handed over his papers, and a small portrait of his wife. "I would fight you with honour, before I go to hell."
Wraithvine accepted all of this with an eerie calm and a, "Huh. Must be that time of the century. Still, better than several decades in an oubliette..." Ze stood and stretched. "I know you expect to die, but that's not my style unless you are truly evil. Do you consider yourself truly evil?"
"I've ended four good men on the orders of my Lord. Of course I'm evil."
"That was a trick question," said Wraithvine. "Only truly evil people see themselves as all good, and their will the only will that matters. I'm going to help you. And your family. But first, a boon of your own. To save you from the hell you anticipate."
"Anything," Wilkinson knelt, offering his blade. "I was already prepared to give my life for this boon."
"I will help you save your family. In return, you will help me save the families of the men you've slain. And then... if you are still willing, we shall see to the Duke."
Wilkinson liked this plan a great deal better.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / AlanCotton]
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