6th of Searing, Year 120
He joined Iridith near the inn, the site of the creature's massacre of the town's civilians. Destian remained in the small cabin Taelian had found him in -- he'd relayed how everything happened to Taelian and Iridith, but afterwards said he wished to remain in hiding until they could assure him of the death of the beast. It was a sensible request; he planned to stay here, apparently, and petition for ownership of the farm his adoptive father owned. The Lord of the area would eventually reallocate the rest of the town to new farmers and other laborers, and Destian would be left in a position of privilege. The boy was nothing if not pragmatic.
He told them of how everything occurred. The beast was spotted by a farmer to the west, cleaving through the treeline and culling some of the local stag. Within a few hours they'd received word of a few of the farmers dying, their homes being broken into. After the creature managed to kill the people inside, he would move to the laborers in the fields, and he was continuing east. This warning was relayed to everyone north, south, west and central to the community; many of them came into the center of town to congregate in their mutual defense, bringing as many dragonshard guns as they could. Many other villagers instead fled to a larger, walled castle-town, joining relatives or seeking refuge and informing their Clansmen of what was occurring in this area. From what they had learned from Destian, it appeared the creature was intent on cleaving east. All of the news had come from the west, in a straight line. Taelian wondered why.
Whatever the case, Iridith called him back to the inn for... 'deliberation'. He felt anxious of what she meant -- the woman was confident that the two of them could take the creature on, so he wondered why they weren't moving immediately east. Quickly, he found out.
"Taelian..." the Jastai began. "We need to kill him."
"Who, the creature?" he asked.
"No, Destian," she said solemnly. But it was a fake solemnity; it was clear as day in the precision with which she formed her demeanor, the way in which she averted her eyes and looked aside. It was deception. His time with the Covenant had been enough for him to learn that, at least.
The Ebon Knight's gaze narrowed. He thought to ask why... but, he already knew why. The woman decided to inform him anyway.
"He's a threat to us. He saw both of us here, therefore linking the creature to the Covenant. Maybe he, a child, believes that we were simply in the area... but when he's questioned by the Atinorin authorities, they won't. They'll investigate us -- perhaps even blame us for this creature's mauling of the town. And..."
"Why wouldn't they blame us?" he asked. "We're responsible, Iridith. Wylen is, at least. Most of the Thespians wouldn't even help you, isn't that correct?" Too many had died already. They were just . . . random villagers, subjected to the arbitration of fate. Wylen was the adviser to the Finla of Raellon; he was meant to act as a voice to these people, providing their counsel to the leader of this Clan. He was their representative, supposedly, but foolishly he'd managed to get dozens of them killed. For nothing.
"It doesn't matter; too much is at stake. It's not a moral question anymore -- it's a question of survival. Why should mages across the country need to be held accountable for Wylen? For they will be. There is no doubt of that."
"Why should a boy have to be held accountable for Wylen? And for the Thespians' selfishness?"
"Because fate is cruel," she replied. To Taelian, it was a meaningless answer. It effectively meant: she didn't need a reason. Unfairness already prospered. The worst thing was, he acknowledged that in many situations this argument would've been persuasive to him. Mostly because... he didn't care in the first place. Not for these strangers; not for their lives, not for their farms. But... a part of him cared for Destian, somehow. Already. He reminded him of himself -- an orphan, an opportunist, a cynic but a hopeful one. Sharp, resourceful. He knew that he didn't need to die.
