Death: Genesis

“That was weird,” Zeke said as he leaped over a fallen tree. The forest all around him looked as if it had just been hit by a hurricane of epic proportions, but he knew that wasn’t the case. For one, they were too far from the ocean for that, and for another, he’d been assured by some of the natives that there had been no storms. However, they had informed him that there were powerful monsters in the forest, which prevented them from going too far from their villages.

“What? The village?” asked Adara. “They seemed like normal people.”

Indeed, in the past two days since they’d left the conquered city – Zeke still hadn’t learned its name – behind, they’d encountered a scattered few villages. And he’d been surprised to find that they were surprisingly ordinary. There were no Knights there, and if Zeke hadn’t known better, he’d never have suspected that they were subjects of the evil Imperium with which he’d gone to war.

They’d been more than welcoming when he’d come into town, and he’d been further surprised to find that the beastkin and other races – of which there were only a few – were not enslaved. It seemed that that particular issue was reserved for the larger cities. Zeke had learned that the rural villages were entirely ignored by the Imperium – a necessity, given the amount of land the empire covered. They simply didn’t have the manpower to enforce their views on their entire territory.

Visiting those villages definitely brought to mind some pleasant memories, and the experience highlighted the fact that Zeke’s black-and-white, enemy-or-friend style of thinking had some definite holes in it. Just because someone was ruled by a bunch of evil monsters in human form, it didn’t mean that they subscribed to the same immoral ideas.

Of course none of that mattered when those same people took up arms against him, but it was definitely something to think about.

Regardless, that wasn’t the subject of his comment. Instead, he was still flabbergasted by the fact that everyone had just accepted Eveline without even a hint of an issue. The kobolds’ reaction, he’d expected. They revered him to the point that they would do whatever he said without question. Yet, he’d anticipated that he would get at least some pushback from the others.

However, they’d all embraced Eveline like she was a long-lost friend. Or part of their family. If he hadn’t known better, Zeke would have thought that she was using some sort of skill. But he was well aware that wasn’t the case. Not only had he forbidden her from doing anything of the sort, but in her current form, she just wasn’t powerful enough to affect that kind of change among so many people. Maybe she’d been sandbagging all along, but he also felt confident that he would have felt it if she’d used any abilities.

No – they had just accepted her like one of their own because they trusted his word when he’d told them that her supervision of the tower was for the best. It was baffling and off-putting.

“I was talking about the thing with Eveline.”

“Oh.”

Adara had already heard plenty about his misgivings, and she hadn’t been terribly subtle about what she thought of them.

“I know what you’re going to say,” Zeke stated before she had a chance to go on.

“Do you?” she asked.

“If I didn’t trust her, I shouldn’t have put her in charge of the tower,” he answered. Adara had said as much more than once, and though Zeke felt that she was right, he also felt there were some gray areas that she’d yet to acknowledge.

“That’s true enough. But I was also going to remind you that you’ve been living with her in your mind for years now, and she’s never done anything to betray the trust you’ve given her,” Adara stated. “That has to count for something, right?”

“It’s the only reason I even considered giving her free rein in the tower at all.”

But in the back of his mind, he also knew that Eveline was, at her core, still a demon, and an ancient one at that. Before she’d been chained, she had been a peak power in Hell. A person like that was capable of anything.

“It doesn’t do any good to continue worrying about it,” Adara said. “And it could become detrimental.”

“I can put those thoughts aside when I want to.”

“I’m not talking about focus,” Adara said. “I’m talking about you and me. I like you, Zeke. I really do. But that could change if you start moping around all the time.”

“I’m not moping.”

“Close enough,” she said. “And let’s not forget that the demon in question is still sitting in your mind. Her focus is split, right? That means she can hear everything we say.”

At that moment, Eveline flickered into existence. However, instead of her usual appearance, which was visually indistinguishable from solid matter, she looked faded and partially transparent. That was the cost of splitting herself between the outside world and the Crimson Tower.

“That is true, but at this point, I’m used to Ezekiel’s quirks,” she said, floating above the ground. “You should hear how introspective he can get when he’s alone. The world sees this brutish monster of a man, but me? I get to see an amateur philosopher who constantly worries about moral implications and dwells on the traumas of his past. I prefer the brute, if I’m honest. It feels more authentic.”

“Because it is,” Adara said, vaulting over another fallen tree. “A warrior should spend time debating morality with himself, but once committed to an action, the time for thinking is long past. Only the battle matters at that point.”

“That is an interesting view,” Eveline said. “And it is a fairly accurate way to describe Ezekiel. Although, he does worry quite a lot about the fate of the masses, unimportant as they often are.”

“To you,” Adara said. “Those unimportant civilians often feel differently.”

“Ah, yes – to them, they are the center of everything. Even the beggars in the streets feel that their lives have meaning,” Eveline pointed out. “That doesn’t make them right.”

“It doesn’t make them wrong, either,” Adara stated. “We must strive to ensure a just society for all people, regardless of their species.”

“Oh, I couldn’t care less about that kind of thing. The only thing that matters is power. That provides meaning. The weak are just a weight keeping the strong from truly realizing their potential,” she said. “Unless properly utilized, of course. That is my goal for the tower. It should uplift Ezekiel and the others like yourself. Its population should support you and help usher each successive generation to ever more power.”

“And the weak? What about them? Do they have no place?”

“Of course they do. They can be motivation. They can be cautionary tales. They can support and manage. There are countless ways for them to contribute, and they will be rewarded for doing so,” Eveline explained. “Perhaps they can change their own fate, given enough work. Or failing that, the fate of their offspring can be altered. That is the power of a collective. As the most powerful rise, so do the least. The Crimson Tower is a tool with unimaginable potential, and if we use it properly, the truly weak will only have themselves to blame. Certainly, they will not lack support, resources, or opportunity. As such, those who remain among the bottom rungs will be there because they deserve it.”

“Can we please focus?” Zeke asked. “There’s something out here that’s been tearing up all these trees.”

“It’s probably just a monster,” Eveline said dismissively. “You’re more than a match for anything. You should really be focusing on the dungeon. It’s not far away now.”

Indeed, from the maps Zeke had been given, the dungeon was less than a hundred miles away. Given that he could cover that much ground in a single afternoon – of half an hour if he wanted to push it – he did need to put himself in the proper mindset. Dungeons were always dangerous, and if he wasn’t prepared, he would run the risk of an injury that might sideline him for weeks.

Plus, he had Adara with him. She was strong and durable, but she was still much weaker than him. His instincts told him that she needed protection, but he knew precisely how much she would resent that attitude. She wasn’t afflicted with the same jealousy or the inferiority complex of someone like Abby, but the half-orc woman was adamant about trying to stand on her own. If she couldn’t she would accept help gratefully, but the last thing she wanted was to be put into a box and kept safe. That made Zeke’s path a fine line to walk.

Because Zeke was good at fighting, but in battle, he’d never been great at protecting people. Even when he’d flirted with the idea of wielding a shield and dedicating himself to becoming a barrier between his friends and danger, he’d known he was ill-suited to the task. That was why he’d discarded the notion.

Still, he sometimes wondered if he could have changed his nature if he truly committed to doing so.

“Assuredly not,” Eveline said, this time in his mind. “Nor should you. The girl is perfectly capable of taking care of herself. But this isn’t really about Adara, is it? You feel guilty about leaving the kobolds to prosecute the war on their own.”

“Shouldn’t I? What if they encounter another peak fighter?”

“Many will die. But they are stronger than you think,” she said. “Besides, all of our intelligence suggests that the Imperium has begun to pull back, abandoning these frontier cities so that they can better protect the more important locations.”

“And if our intelligence is wrong?”

“Again, people will die. That is war, Ezekiel.”

Zeke shook his head, and as he continued through the devastated forest, Adara and Eveline maintained their conversation. The pair got along quite well, which was both comforting and frustrating for him. So, to distract himself, he considered the previous conversation.

Not the part about leaving his army to fend for itself. That made sense to him, and not just because he wanted to challenge the dungeon and hopefully satisfy the terms of his quest. That was part of it, but he also knew that the kobolds couldn’t grow unless they were let off their proverbial leash. He couldn’t hover over them like some overprotective parent. Doing so would only stunt their development.

Still, like a parent, he struggled with the notion that implications of his absence. They would be hurt. Some would die. And in the end, the whole would be better for it. That didn’t make the impending deaths any easier to accept, though.

He’d gone through that debate often enough that he didn’t need to dwell on it further. Instead, he considered war itself. It was an ugly thing, and something he wished wasn’t necessary. As much as he enjoyed fighting – and he very much did – Zeke wasn’t blind to the inevitable consequences of war. If the damage was limited to soldiers, it would have been far more acceptable, but that simply wasn’t the case. In any battle, there would be collateral damage. Innocents would die, and lives would be ruined.

It was almost enough to make a man question the path he’d taken.

Yet, that awareness also cemented in Zeke’s mind the necessity of war. Evil existed. He knew that down to the core of who he was. He’d seen it. And sometimes, evil needed to be eradicated at all costs. Such was the case with the Imperium, who routinely enslaved anyone who was different from them. They thought nothing of killing anyone who didn’t fit into their box of acceptability, and they had instituted a system of governance that ensured that only certain people were allowed to grow.

Keeping their proverbial boot on the necks of anyone who didn’t fit the mold was the only way they’d maintained power. And Zeke was certain that their actions were evil, and what’s more, he’d seen enough in the Radiant Isles that he could reliably label their patron – the Sun Goddess Shar Maelaine – the same way. She was an infection that had been allowed to spread too far, and he intended to scour the Eternal Plane of her influence.

And when he was done with that, he would find her on the Ethereal Plane and finally end her reign of evil. That was Zeke’s commitment, and he refused to waver from that path, regardless of how detestable he found the consequences of the war he had chosen to wage.

It was as those thoughts coalesced in his mind that he became aware of a subtle tremor racing through the ground.

He looked around, unsure of what to expect. But he said, “Look alive. Something is coming.”

Adara wheeled around, ready to meet whatever threat presented itself, and in that moment, Zeke was once again struck by just how much she embodied everything he admired. She was strong. Powerful in a way that exceeded her levels, stats, and skills. She wouldn’t hesitate to stand up to any threat.

“Doesn’t hurt that she’s quite attractive, either,” Eveline reminded him.

“No. No it doesn’t,” Zeke said with a slight grin as he embraced [Titan]. As he grew, the tremors became more pervasive until it felt like he was in the middle of an earthquake. Yet, still, there was no sign of any opponent.

Then, just as Zeke was beginning to wonder if, perhaps, the shaking came from a natural source, that he caught sight of the monster. Towering hundreds of feet over the fallen forest, it was a true sight to behold.

“Who has invaded my territory?” bellowed the dragon, its head the size of a locomotive as it looked down on the pair of intruders.