« There is nothing wrong in lending a hand to help someone, whoever he is. There is nothing right in doing it wrong, even if it started with good intentions. »

We heard someone knocking on the iron bars of the cell with a metallic tool, maybe a truncheon or a similar tool for disciplining.

“Wake up! It’s time for your interrogation.”

Nilie instantly overreacted to the sound, looking aghast at the gates where the guard was firmly standing. He must still be blinded by the belief that everything will go wrong, unbeknownst to the truthfulness of my very presence in this place.

During those long silent hours, I had time to think. Think about my protégé, think about the mortals, and about my place among them. It was undeniable that I was assigned to their protection and well-being, my mission consisted of acting as the protector of this world and the guardian of its eternal peace. I had to ensure its prosperity by any action necessary to achieve it, to prolong their existence no matter how heavy the price was.

My role as a guardian was to defend the mortals from any sort of harm.

The keys tinkled against the lock before the gate was pushed by the warden, allowing the guard to enter our cell until he decided to stand before me.

“Hey you! You’re coming with me.”

I first assumed I wasn’t going to be called to attend their business, but I was quickly proved how wrong I was. Maybe they needed something from me that Nilie couldn’t provide to them.

No, they were probably only going to ask me the reason I ‘attacked’ their colleague at the city’s entrance. They gave me no time to explain myself when they arrested me, and now I understood it was because they hadn’t the time to listen to me. They had to prepare an adequate room for my arrival.

How delicate.

“Very well.” I replied before standing from my couch.

As I was about to leave the cell, I could hear or feel Nilie scratching at my back for some attention. When I stared at him, he was only sitting at the same position as before, exaggeratedly worried about the events happening in front of him.

He told me he was worried they would know about his past as a brigand, and would certainly execute him without any trial or any chance for redemption. Despite me forgiving him, he would still end up beheaded because of someone else’s decision.

How harsh.

Don’t worry, Nilie.

I, will protect you.

This little guy did more for me than what he thought. Without him by my side, I would have lost myself through my journey when I was still amnesiac.

How many victims have I claimed through this sole day when I was lost and angry? How many would I have claimed if not for him being present by my side to help me subdue this dumb anger of mine?

I was a protector, because I remember my promise.

I was also a destructor, when I lose myself to the temptation of erasing everything.

My memory was the safety over my conduct, without those old images and words passing through my mind I would be nothing else but the receptacle of a power too potent for this world to tolerate.

“Here it is. Go in.”

I was pulled from my thoughts by my escort, prompting me to come inside a larger and clearer room where the sun could illuminate the indoors through the window. There was still a set of iron bars lodged in front of the glass, certainly to prevent the most reckless ones to escape by this way.

He told me to sit on one of the chair, while he himself sat on the opposite side of the table separating us. Two additional men stood in the corners behind me, one heavily equipped while the second nervously clung to his staff.

“Let’s start with the basics.”

The guard in front of me picked a sheet of paper from a stack on his left and prepared himself to write a few words on it. I felt a twinge in the air, an illusory sentiment of my shoulders being pinched by some sort of immaterial mean.

“What’s your name?”

There is always, sometimes, everywhere, most of the time, this unpleasant assumption that… Things are just wrong.

Why do I feel this way?

“I am Haliaeetus.”

The man scribbled the way my name would be pronounced in his language, a line of rash, gross and inelegant glyphs from an alphabet I have never seen, learnt or read. Another beautiful pleasantries –I must admit- that appeared before me without me expecting it.

“Can you state the reason of your visit to Lagida?

My peripheral vision blurred, faded away or something, then went back to normal. It all happened so fast my consciousness couldn’t keep up with the irrationality I was subjected to. Imageries of myself being tangled started to show up too frequently.

“I… am looking for someone…”

Green eyes. Silver Hair. Petite, but charming stature. The lady I dedicated my life for appeared too clearly in my head; smiling, enjoying herself, reading a book, talking with someone else, her eyes gleaming with passion whenever she stared at me.

“And who is this someone?”

Who is she? No one else, but Qalendra. The one I dearly love, the only person I truly cherish in this world. I wonder how she is… Where is she… What is she doing?

Oh right, I almost forgot. She resided inside the prism-like tower, away from undesired attention from other parties. Or does she? When did she start living there again?

“Qalendra… My… Miiiiiiinnnneeeee…”

The guard tasked one of his men who hurriedly left the room, leaving only the mage and himself inside the room in my company. Or he should have, but a sudden strength shoved him against the wall.

At last… At long last, I finally noticed the anomaly lingering in the air.

“What are you DOING TO ME?!!!”

I flipped the table and cursed the material which suddenly turned into a viscous substance, the guard sitting in front of me was plunged in this spell and half-turned into a statue made of wood, rendered somewhat immune to the pain and incapable of screaming as his torso was mostly transformed as well.

The walls made of wooden plank reflected the pale light from many sources, imaginary lines made of white undulating between the brownish outlines of the timber and the vibrating aura of my shining gauntlets. The bright, divine metal were already grabbing the mage’s collar while easily lifting him from the ground.

“YOU TAMPER MY MIND?! YOU TOY WITH MY SOUL?!!

YOU DARE… YOU DARE SCRAPE AT MY EXISTENCE WITH YOUR PETTINESS!!!

DO YOU TRULY BELIEVE I WOULD LEAVE SUCH AGGRESSION GO UNPUNISHED?!”

The mage wimped in my unshakable grasp, voicing out complaints or maybe bribes to purchase my mercy. However, his words had not the minimum impact to pierce my deafening ire.

I was… Blinded, again. Blinded by my own short-sightedness, my hot habit of seeking fault in everyone and everything. Just like last time. Just like everytime.

I hate this. I hate this. But is it necessary? No... Yes… I could pursue the matter, without suffering any foreseeable consequences. But is it the right choice? Is it the right behaviour a protector must show to the world?

Of course not. Of course not… I lose myself too easily… But his crime remained done and untouched.

With my fiery eyes, I gazed at his pitiful being, staring with the intention of seeking out the depth of this man’s spiritual body to lure out what I wanted to know about.

“What were you doing to me?”

Again, the man only cried meaningless sentences, perhaps a desperate and uncontrollable attempt at persuading himself that it wasn’t death who was knocking at his door.

Concluding I couldn’t receive any rational answer from this shattered lamb, I did what I should have done earlier: dismantling his memory, until I salvaged the parts which explained the transgression’s how and why.

Souvenirs stored in one’s brain were quite tricky to extract and understand without prior knowledge and skills on the operation. Fortunately, I was very talented whenever it required mana-manipulation and soul-tinkering aptitude, allowing myself to gain the desired access in only a few short minutes.

“Mmmh… I see… The room itself is enchanted, making the walls isolated against magic residue… This would have made anyone inside completely unable to transmute mana into spells, but this man did…”

To cast a spell, one must consume mana. This was the basic, everyone knew about it. You chanted the incantation to summon the desired effect, and in exchange paid the price in the form of either the mana residing inside your soul, or the particles drifting in the air.

“A truth spell… He attempted to alter me to some extent, all in order to force the answers out of me… But how did he achieve this without the preliminaries, and sitting in this mana-less room?

The chant was obligatory, because without it you couldn’t ‘tell’ the magic what you wanted. Just like how Roi evoked lighting and blaze on the demons, he pronounced the order and asked the magic to do so. And yet, I never heard this mage spelling any command.

Likewise, this room was specifically constructed to forbid the usage of magic, this may also explain why the planks shined in the same tone as my gauntlets. Then, how could this man cast a spell here? I needed to dig deeper.

“Magic signature? Algorithmically-crafted magic? Fascinating… I did not believe mortals could decipher magic to such an extent… It goes beyond everything my people have studied, and also helps explaining many feats I complete through sheer instinct…”

I knew it. This was a rare chance. I knew it was the correct decision to meddle with mortals. I was learning so many things, so many tricks, so many theories, so many laws, so many restrictions.

How could we have even considered the fact that mortals would write so many essays and conducts so many experiments, using this old and rusty system my friend and I built together millennia ago?

“I am amazed… There are so many ideas in there I could use for my mission.”

Theories on the causes and consequences of the elements on the spiritual body. Scripts about the affinity through the habits, physics and personality. Writings on the relation between living beings and the consumption of mana. Experimentations on fusing, melting and hardening the three elements. Texts to help discerning the wavelength of mana, and why it is important.

I was learning so much. With all this knowledge, I could certainly protect the world with even more efficient means. I could… I could maybe even prevent any doomsdays from happening at all!

This needed to be shared with my companions. I needed to tell them all about it. I needed to tell Qalendra about it!

But, for that, I needed to know where I could find her. I joyfully asked this question directly to the mage’s soul, this pool of knowledge where I found every answers to my questions.

“… You don’t know?”

He didn’t know. The name never appeared inside his memory but once: when I called out for her during the interrogation, my mind being distorted and misused by this puny mortal.

How unfortunate.

“Then maybe you?”

I asked the petrified guard, his life should have been forfeited for a long time already, yet remained suspended above the abyss of nothingness thanks to my impartiality.

Again, no answers were found inside his head.

I needed to know. I needed to meet her. But how can I tell her, without knowing her position. I could feel her presence somewhere in this city, but a barrier was disrupting my senses and forbad me from pinpointing her with precision.

Where are you, Qalendra?

---

I remained behind, inside the dark prison where nobody deigned notice my presence. I was sure they knew I was still here, after all, they were still interrogating the spirit, and had yet to come back from this seemingly long session.

What was I doing here? I repented. I repented for my crimes, and I have been shown the fate that awaited me, again and again.

This has all seemed like a dream, a pilgrimage through a world conceived by the spirit’s power to make me pass many trials.

First, a vengeful woman trying to assassinate the spirit. Then, a sick caravan vanishing in the blink of an eye. And finally, me, sitting alone on the threshold of the church.

Maybe this was how spirits conveyed their feelings, their message to the sinners. I have been shown many cruel things, many atrocities I committed in the past.

Yes, it is true. I killed many people for their riches, I participated in massacres and pillages to amass funds and wealth. I was only a lackey in the group, however, my guilt subsided, even though I did not mind it at all the days I spilled blood on the grass.

It was my fault that many suffered. Following the order made me as guilty as the one giving the order, and this is where it lead me.

Alone, sitting on a bench, waiting for… Something, to happen.

The spirit foretold this moment, it was obscure and confusing at first, but now I notice the similarities.

This is how my life unfolded, this is where I was heading eyes closed all the way.

But the spirit did not mention what would happen next. He did not… Maybe because there was nothing to mention.

Maybe there is no… Next.

…

I heard footsteps resonating in the corridors, but I dared not raise my head to check if it was my turn to go. After all, the sound of the cell’s gate opening made it all too clear that it was about time I received my due punishment.

“Come on, it’s time for you to leave.”

It was my time, yes.

I silently complied with the guard, exiting the narrow room with a mix of fear and… resolution, maybe. I dreaded what was to come, yet at the same time I felt prepared.

The spirit guided me, shown me what my life was, and now it was time to walk on the next steps of this journey. To watch it ending, and to accept the outcome. All according to the Rules.

The guard escorted me through an unknown way. What will I see, when I will reach our destination? Usually, they would simply hang criminals like myself and be done with it. Maybe that was the sentence that awaited me.

I breathed in, trying to inspire some courage in my body, before raising my head and discover the reality lying in front of me.

“You’re here, Nilie.”

He was standing here, this entity that changed my life for the better or the worst. A yume with a moderate appearance and a stern facial expression, a man you would believe could handle himself in a fight, but also possessed no talent or skill to fit anywhere else.

A naïve boy who believed he could make it big as long as he wasn’t caught and thrown in jail, a despicable juvenile blinded by the thought of gold and funds to help his tribe and family. A person you may want to help, but did not know how. A stranded man, lost in the conviction of sacrificing others for his own profit.

It was me, a copy of myself reflected by the spirit like a mirror.

“Spirit?” I asked the doppelganger, my voice crisped with confusion “Why are you here?”

In response, the copy extended his hand to me, like a rope to pull me out of a quicksand.

“We’re leaving.”

I wasn’t certain to understand what he means by those words, but I still chose to accept his offer and followed him to wherever he would take me.

Maybe some sort of purgatory, or perhaps another land where the dead gathered. I was surprised to remark the guards standing still, watching us with a serene expression as the spirit led me outside the barrack.

There, I was welcomed by the bright sun and the loud crowd. It felt like the curtains were lifted, and now a new world presented itself to me. Or, actually, I believe I was the one looking at this already existing world with new eyes.

The cheerful atmosphere brought by the nearing festival licked the bleeding scars left on my mind by my own culpability, the guilt fading away like snow under the hot season of summer.

“I have yet to bring you back to your family, but I must go.”

I turned my head to face my clone, the spirit impersonating me, whose visage I will never forget.

“This was a short journey together, I thank you for guiding me this far.”

No, spirit. You were the one guiding me. Without you, I would have… I wouldn’t be here. I still don’t know which path I should choose to follow, but now I know what to do… I know what not to do…

But the words… They couldn’t come out… I was… My throat was seized by… Not remorse… Nor sadness… But…

“This isn’t much, but take this.”

I have been gifted with an amulet, a single piece of rock shaped in the form of an emblem I recognized as the spirit’s insignia.

“As long as you wear it, you will be granted my protection.”

I humbly accepted the token, dearly holding it in my hands.

“But be aware that it also acts as a warrant. It will break as soon as you commit an action I deem condemnable.”

A safeguard to prevent me from straying again, a reminder that I have been warned once, and that I won’t be graced with a second chance.

I nodded, agreeing to the shielding shackle I willingly put on myself.

“Now, I must leave. Take care of yourself, Nilie.”

Then, the spirit departed, his steps furthering the distance between us until I couldn’t discern him among the populace. It left me with a bizarre feeling, looking at my own back disappearing just like that.

But now, I was free. I was free from the guilt. Free from the crimes. I was saved.

First thing I’ll do? Looking for my sister, and tell her the story of the spirit. I don’t know how she’ll react, but I’m certain she’ll understand once I’ll show her the pendant.

I left the place by myself, my head filled with the image of the spirit who took my appearance, and who’ve shown me how I looked like when my face could be read with the word ‘relief’.