Chapter 54. They Cried for a Master Who Never Deserved Them

Chapter 54: 54. They Cried for a Master Who Never Deserved Them

I took a step back. I couldn’t help it.

No fucking way... it really is some kind of device that’s related to brainwashing... and it’s even worse! Hynotizing!

It hit me right in the chest, a sharp, ugly stab that was almost physical. I remembered Millie in that little stone room in Elarune, looking up at me with wet eyes and saying that word.

I remembered the cold, sick feeling it had given me then. And here it was again, in a different mouth, offered up by a woman who was smiling like she’d been given a gift.

"I... don’t want it," I said.

"Of course you do." She looked up at me with calm, trusting eyes. "You are strong... You are kind... and we would be so glad to follow you any where!"

Sylvara spoke quietly from behind me. She wasn’t pushing.

She was just laying the facts out, as honestly as she could.

"Whoever holds the staff with intent becomes their new master," she said. "They will obey..."

"They will not be forced... They will be happy. And they are strong."

"Five fighters like that could make a difference to the defense of the clan."

I stared at the golden light pulsing in the heart of the crystal.

It was the most seductive thing I had ever seen, and I say that as a man who once nearly married a woman because she cooked excellent lasagna.

Five loyal... powerful warriors... who would follow me anywhere, who would never complain, and who would smile while they died for me.

It would be so easy. Especially with the obsession I had of all the beastwomen in here.

Nobody would be hurt, or at least nobody who knew they were being hurt.

And Elsbeth’s clan needed every sword it could get.

But no... I’m not going to do that again! I need to get better... I HAVE TO BE BETTER.

There was a soft sound beside me, and I turned my head.

Elsbeth had taken a step forward. Her hand had come up halfway, reaching toward the staff, and she was staring at it with a naked, desperate need that I’d never seen on her face before.

Hjalla was one of her people.

They all were.

Her clan was under siege, her mother was fighting for her life, and here... in front of her, was a way to save some of them.

I knew exactly what she was thinking. I could see it in the shaking of her fingers.

"Elsbeth," I said, as gently as I could.

She didn’t look at me.

"If you take it," I said, "they’d stand and fight for you."

"They’d smile while they did it... And you’d never know if they would have chosen to."

Her hand stopped in midair.

For a long moment, she stood perfectly still.

Then, very slowly, she lowered it to her side. Her shoulders trembled, just once.

"No," she whispered. "No... You are right."

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

Across the clearing, Velora stood with her hand on her sword, watching me. She hadn’t said a word.

She hadn’t moved. But I could feel her eyes on me like a weight, waiting to see what I would do.

"Break it," I said.

Hjalla blinked at me. "Master?"

"I’m not your master! Put it down!"

She hesitated, then obediently laid the staff on the snow at my feet, and stepped back with her hands folded.

She didn’t understand and I saw that clearly. She thought I was testing her.

I drew Gate Junior. And here I thought that it is the right thing to do.

Fuck brainwashed and hypnotized device. They’re just a bunch of cowards way!

I could have asked someone else to do it. Velora would have done it in a heartbeat, and Elsbeth could have frozen it solid and shattered it.

But I wasn’t going to let anyone else carry this one. If five people were going to die because of what I was about to do, it was going to be my hand on the sword.

"This is the best way for all the beastwomen to have a free will of living!" I raised the blade over my head and brought it down on the crystal.

And to my surprise... It didn’t break.

The edge bounced off the glass with a crack like a rifle shot, and the shock ran up my arm and into my shoulder.

"W-what...?"

"FUCK!" I swore and tried again.

The second blow left a small white scratch on the surface. "Why don’t you just crack?!"

I hit it a third time, putting everything I had into it, and I felt something give.

CRACK!

A thin black crack ran across the blue sphere. A hot gold light poured out of it, blinding, and I squeezed my eyes shut.

Then there was a sound, a single clear note like a bell ringing at the bottom of a lake, long and sweet and heartbreakingly lovely.

The crystal shattered.

JZZZZZTTTT...

It went off like a firework, spraying bits of blue and gold in every direction. A chill rolled over the camp.

I stumbled back, my ears ringing, and a piece of glass nicked my cheek. ’Why the hell is it so hard...?!’

’Oh yeah... it’s probably me that haven’t fully recovered yet.’

Then I heard the sound that I will remember for the rest of my life.

All five of the Oathglass cried out at the same time.

SHAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

It wasn’t a scream.

It was a thin, high wail, like children waking up from a dream and finding the house empty.

The five of them collapsed in the snow, curling into tight balls, and their hands clawing at their throats. Their eyes were wide open and full of terror, and they were reaching for something that wasn’t there.

"Master...?" one of them sobbed. "Master, where are you?!"

"Master, please...! I have been good!"

Another sight that make my stomach feel sick. God, please let just be the end.

Hjalla was on her knees, her hands pressed to her chest, her face crumpled.

"Where did he go...?" she whispered. "Why did he leave?! What did I do?!"

I stood there with the sword hanging from my numb fingers and watched five people fall apart in front of me, and I knew that I had done the right thing, and... I knew that it was killing them.

Sylvara was beside them in an instant.

She swept her staff in a slow, gentle arc, and a shimmer of silver light settled over them like a blanket.

One by one, their cries faded, and their eyes drifted shut, and they sank into a deep, shaky sleep.

"It is a sleep of the moon," she said hoarsely. "It will hold them for now."

"But Leon..." She turned to look at me, and her eyes were full of grief. "Without a master, and without a cure... they may not survive."

"I would estimate three days... Perhaps four."

"And what about the shrine?" Bonette asked. "Would the shrine help?"

"Possibly... If there is still pure moonlight in the old stones, it may be strong enough to push back against the Oathglass." Sylvara closed her eyes. "But still... it is only a theory."

I dropped to my knees in the snow next to the sleeping Oathglass. My hands were bleeding where the hilt had cut into them, and I could feel my heart hammering against my ribs.

"Oh no... If they die," I said hoarsely, "that’s on... me."

"Yes," said Velora.

I looked up. She was standing a few feet away, her arms folded across her chest with her golden eyes fixed on me.

She wasn’t being cruel this time, but again... I can tell that she wasn’t kind.

She just said it, flatly, because it was true.

"It is," she said. "That is what separates you from him."

I swallowed.

She looked at me for a long moment.

Then she turned her head toward her riders and said, without raising her voice, "Wrap their blankets. And bring water."

They moved at once.

It wasn’t praise. She hadn’t smiled, or softened, or said anything gentle.

But for the first time since I had met her, she had spoken to me without a trace of contempt, and I felt something loosen in my chest.

Beside me, Sylvara had gone very still. Her head was tilted, her lips slightly parted, and she was staring off into the distance.

"Do you... hear that?" she whispered.

"Hear what...?"

"The note... When the crystal broke."

"It did not fade." Her voice trembled. "It went somewhere... It rang through the stone and out into the mountains, like a bell in a very large room."

"Someone far away heard it."