Konahora sighed. Her companions were each going through severe difficulties and her ability to help was limited. Still, she thought the experience was good for them both and that was the primary reason she had sided with Tyler in helping Derek survive. Compassion was part of it, but she was older than her companions and there were no lies she placed in her heart, even to herself. She knew that if it was the better option for them, even as an innocent, she would move towards his execution.
It was a painful world they lived in sometimes, but luckily most decisions came away with far less drastic actions.
Her role was different from her friends. She was quite a bit older, after all. Healing does lead towards certain advantages after all. She didn’t quite like withholding truths. She would always fully answer any questions asked, but if no one asked, then she had no imperative reason to mention it, despite her own dislike. She smiled, remembering some of her earliest years. Every clergy faced different troubles, and Truth more than others. You had the people wanting to be part of it, but not truly faithful or worshipping, like Derek. She had no issues with people of that sort, and in her older age, even considered herself closer to that sort. Her fervor had long melded with being pragmatic.
These people often faced issues that they couldn’t actually live the Truth. They couldn’t let go of all lies, even the small or whitest of them. A simple “How are you?” being answered with “Fine.” was the most common lie she heard growing up. People who were so use to being dishonest with themselves, that it took years and years of self-enlightment before they could even begin to step on the path.
And then… there were the children. Churches, she smiled bitterly, needed followers. The youth had always been a fine way to achieve that, regardless of faith. If you grow up being taught not to lie about anything, to be always open…. It can make certain things awkward before you learn what not to say, unless asked. She remembered her own past and felt herself cringe a bit. The first time she had proudly walked up to her mother and loudly declared she’d just gotten done masturbating… oof. It wasn’t any better being on the other end, she had learned. A dangerous world caused orphans and she had looked after them for a while. That had been difficult. Difficult in so, so many ways. Her faith had truly been pushed to its limit when children would ask her about things even she felt children should not know yet, and for more information.
That had been when the first stirring of pragmatics had seeped into her. The Truth was a holy thing no doubt, but certain things simply shouldn’t be known.
As she had continued through the world, going on a pilgrimage, that had only deepened. If someone asked how to build a magic bomb that could kill a city, clearly it should not be said. Yet if she had known, she would be obliged to tell someone. Given her love of learning, this had caused a wedge between her and her faith for a long while.
Eventually, the answer became obvious. She wasn’t perfect. The Truth wasn’t perfect. Not even her Goddess was. She had always considered Truth, the concept itself, as a higher calling. She had been raised in the church after all. But as she had grown, she had asked and asked, and come to her own conclusions. It made her slightly sad, for she could not hide her thoughts from others, and many considered her incorrect. No amount of The Truth can stop someone from being wrong after all. To return home after her pilgrimage and have people she respected feel like she had become a heathen… life takes many turns.
But her thoughts never changed. Did higher concepts, and things worthy of devotion, mean they were without flaws? No. Not at all. She followed an imperfect way, but all of life was imperfect. It was still a worthy cause. Not everyone needed, or even should, follow her way. But more doing so would certainly be welcomed.
With those thoughts in mind, she had become more faithful, in one sense, and less in another. Most of the answers to her questions became much more simple. Often being ‘because the Truth is a flawed concept.’ She was a diligent priestess, often traveling. She greatly enjoyed traveling and helping others where she could. Being stuck in one spot and helping run it, dealing with more children day after day, sounded mentally and soulfully draining.
With her thoughts on clear display to any who asked, she was no stranger to secrets. Secrets were, touchy subjects near followers of Truth. She held a simple opinion on it: Don’t tell me anything I can’t tell everyone.
People oh so rarely followed good advice if it went against their first idea though.
Strength had not been a mystery to her before, but after a few too many retaliations from people that caused their own problems, she had ingrained it deeper.
These were her qualifications, it seemed. As she had increased her own strength, increased her connection with Truth, adopted a pragmatic outlook on Truth, and often Travelled, she was selected by the Mauv King for a specific task. When she was first told of Tyler’s origins, she had genuinely wanted to rip out the King’s tongue. It was not the first time she had felt violent because of information, but it was one of the strongest times. If anyone so much as asked her, she would have to give up that secret. No binding magic could work on her and she was not going to allow a mind mage inside her head.
The King had made a salient point before she had said the Truth of her feelings. Someone would have to ask first. Others asking if so and so is a hero from another world, was not a common question, or one she had ever heard before. It still felt too flimsy but she had to bite down a dozen curses. She hadn’t been brought into the fold for no reason.
She was to be not only Tyler, but also Riary’s mentor, guide, and protector. They were young, hot blooded, naive, and prodigies among prodigies. They were younger than thirty, hardly even twenty, and already they were at a C tier Adventurer’s level. One had accomplished that in less than a year, the other mainly through independent self-study. With resources, time, experience, and guidance, the Mauv King fully expected them to become A level, possibly S.
Even if they didn’t choose to directly serve him, having a Heroes team at the S Rank, especially two members, would bring incredible amounts of political favor and resources to their kingdom. It was one of the things many kingdoms strived for. Enough S rank Adventurers made in their territory and they could eventually make a petition to formally join the Gaun Empire. The King’s motivations were partially selfish but that was the best anyone could realistically expect of a King.
With mixed feelings, Konahora had joined and immediately helped. Riary was so angry, a past tragedy having stained her deeply with rage. Still, what she lacked wasn’t control, but sources of happiness. She loved magic, clearly, but it was also clear she sought it out as more a tool and a weapon. Something fire would’ve responded well too. A lot of pressure had been relieved simply by Tyler’s presence. She had helped open her up to other experiences, such as shopping or simply urging her to have more fun in general. Watching her finally get into a drinking match with Tyler had felt like a personal victory.
As for Tyler, he was naive. The world he came from was post-scarcity on most of the planet. Not only that, but monsters had never been a part of their world. Nor were many other things. The worst they had to deal with seemed to be economic concerns and choosing their future path. Already, Konahora realized that Tyler would need a lot more experience. The very fact that choosing your future was an option, and a difficult one due to too many choices, said volumes. Many, many conversations with him had revealed more. Namely, that beyond magic, Tyler thought of their world as being old in a way. Not in a good way. Primitive.
The more she heard, the more she had come to a conclusion. Tyler needed experience immediately or he would die. She had pushed her concerns to the king and their journey had started in truth. And she had been right, Tyler had made many stubborn decisions without them and taken many naive actions. Letting bandits go was a poor idea in the best of cases and these were not the best of cases. He had been so shocked when they had ambushed them again.
A guiding hand does not control, it lets one make their own mistakes, but saves them from the worst of the consequences. But never all of them or they will not learn.
All told, she viewed the situation with Derek as a good thing. He was an excellent source of experience for the both of them. She had noticed how surprised Tyler had been that there had been a ‘good’ demon and would need to address that later. She had a dark feeling that he had imagined them as nearly mindless monsters, or innately comedically evil, instead of a civilization no different from humans, dwarves, or elves.
As for Riary, she hoped it would serve to dampen her hatred. It’s hard to hate those you break bread with and sleep next to. No matter how justified the hatred, feeding it was a form of poison. Riary had attacked almost without thinking. If it had been an actually strong demon, it could’ve turned into a fight for their lives, or worse.
As for Derek himself, Konahora felt he was a fine young man. Generally nice, good overall, and dealt a poor hand. Cautious and worried. Mostly though, he seemed lost and unsure. Demons came from hell, but they had a complicated relationship with it. They spoke of a True Hell and how they couldn’t reach it. The land they existed on was ‘near’ it, somehow, but wasn’t the right place. They knew this instinctually. Every demon captured and interrogated during the war, and summoned before and after it, had said the same thing.
Most demons came out of hell excited, happy even. Information reached them there, after all. They knew where they’d be going. Konahora got the feeling that Derek did not. She wasn’t an expert on demons or their society, but Derek seemed more like Tyler than a demon. As if he had been pulled off the road and put somewhere random, no information given. Him not even knowing about the gods all but proved it.
She could see his smirk, he gave no effort to hide it, when she had asked about what he wanted to do after he made it to the Elven Kingdom. She wasn’t trying to prevent a slaughter, she had confirmed he wouldn’t do that. She was trying to help him think about it more. The young man was lost and alone, the least she could do was help him light up his path.
She raised a hand towards him.
Derek, exhausted from lack of sleep, suddenly felt a lot more energetic for some reason. He blinked some sleep out of his crusty eyes and breathed deep, a new spring in his step.
Konahora sighed. Her companions were each going through severe difficulties and her ability to help was limited. Still, she thought the experience was good for them both and that was the primary reason she had sided with Tyler in helping Derek survive. Compassion was part of it, but she was older than her companions and there were no lies she placed in her heart, even to herself. She knew that if it was the better option for them, even as an innocent, she would move towards his execution.
It was a painful world they lived in sometimes, but luckily most decisions came away with far less drastic actions.
Her role was different from her friends. She was quite a bit older, after all. Healing does lead towards certain advantages after all. She didn’t quite like withholding truths. She would always fully answer any questions asked, but if no one asked, then she had no imperative reason to mention it, despite her own dislike. She smiled, remembering some of her earliest years. Every clergy faced different troubles, and Truth more than others. You had the people wanting to be part of it, but not truly faithful or worshipping, like Derek. She had no issues with people of that sort, and in her older age, even considered herself closer to that sort. Her fervor had long melded with being pragmatic.
These people often faced issues that they couldn’t actually live the Truth. They couldn’t let go of all lies, even the small or whitest of them. A simple “How are you?” being answered with “Fine.” was the most common lie she heard growing up. People who were so use to being dishonest with themselves, that it took years and years of self-enlightment before they could even begin to step on the path.
And then… there were the children. Churches, she smiled bitterly, needed followers. The youth had always been a fine way to achieve that, regardless of faith. If you grow up being taught not to lie about anything, to be always open…. It can make certain things awkward before you learn what not to say, unless asked. She remembered her own past and felt herself cringe a bit. The first time she had proudly walked up to her mother and loudly declared she’d just gotten done masturbating… oof. It wasn’t any better being on the other end, she had learned. A dangerous world caused orphans and she had looked after them for a while. That had been difficult. Difficult in so, so many ways. Her faith had truly been pushed to its limit when children would ask her about things even she felt children should not know yet, and for more information.
That had been when the first stirring of pragmatics had seeped into her. The Truth was a holy thing no doubt, but certain things simply shouldn’t be known.
As she had continued through the world, going on a pilgrimage, that had only deepened. If someone asked how to build a magic bomb that could kill a city, clearly it should not be said. Yet if she had known, she would be obliged to tell someone. Given her love of learning, this had caused a wedge between her and her faith for a long while.
Eventually, the answer became obvious. She wasn’t perfect. The Truth wasn’t perfect. Not even her Goddess was. She had always considered Truth, the concept itself, as a higher calling. She had been raised in the church after all. But as she had grown, she had asked and asked, and come to her own conclusions. It made her slightly sad, for she could not hide her thoughts from others, and many considered her incorrect. No amount of The Truth can stop someone from being wrong after all. To return home after her pilgrimage and have people she respected feel like she had become a heathen… life takes many turns.
But her thoughts never changed. Did higher concepts, and things worthy of devotion, mean they were without flaws? No. Not at all. She followed an imperfect way, but all of life was imperfect. It was still a worthy cause. Not everyone needed, or even should, follow her way. But more doing so would certainly be welcomed.
With those thoughts in mind, she had become more faithful, in one sense, and less in another. Most of the answers to her questions became much more simple. Often being ‘because the Truth is a flawed concept.’ She was a diligent priestess, often traveling. She greatly enjoyed traveling and helping others where she could. Being stuck in one spot and helping run it, dealing with more children day after day, sounded mentally and soulfully draining.
With her thoughts on clear display to any who asked, she was no stranger to secrets. Secrets were, touchy subjects near followers of Truth. She held a simple opinion on it: Don’t tell me anything I can’t tell everyone.
People oh so rarely followed good advice if it went against their first idea though.
Strength had not been a mystery to her before, but after a few too many retaliations from people that caused their own problems, she had ingrained it deeper.
These were her qualifications, it seemed. As she had increased her own strength, increased her connection with Truth, adopted a pragmatic outlook on Truth, and often Travelled, she was selected by the Mauv King for a specific task. When she was first told of Tyler’s origins, she had genuinely wanted to rip out the King’s tongue. It was not the first time she had felt violent because of information, but it was one of the strongest times. If anyone so much as asked her, she would have to give up that secret. No binding magic could work on her and she was not going to allow a mind mage inside her head.
The King had made a salient point before she had said the Truth of her feelings. Someone would have to ask first. Others asking if so and so is a hero from another world, was not a common question, or one she had ever heard before. It still felt too flimsy but she had to bite down a dozen curses. She hadn’t been brought into the fold for no reason.
She was to be not only Tyler, but also Riary’s mentor, guide, and protector. They were young, hot blooded, naive, and prodigies among prodigies. They were younger than thirty, hardly even twenty, and already they were at a C tier Adventurer’s level. One had accomplished that in less than a year, the other mainly through independent self-study. With resources, time, experience, and guidance, the Mauv King fully expected them to become A level, possibly S.
Even if they didn’t choose to directly serve him, having a Heroes team at the S Rank, especially two members, would bring incredible amounts of political favor and resources to their kingdom. It was one of the things many kingdoms strived for. Enough S rank Adventurers made in their territory and they could eventually make a petition to formally join the Gaun Empire. The King’s motivations were partially selfish but that was the best anyone could realistically expect of a King.
With mixed feelings, Konahora had joined and immediately helped. Riary was so angry, a past tragedy having stained her deeply with rage. Still, what she lacked wasn’t control, but sources of happiness. She loved magic, clearly, but it was also clear she sought it out as more a tool and a weapon. Something fire would’ve responded well too. A lot of pressure had been relieved simply by Tyler’s presence. She had helped open her up to other experiences, such as shopping or simply urging her to have more fun in general. Watching her finally get into a drinking match with Tyler had felt like a personal victory.
As for Tyler, he was naive. The world he came from was post-scarcity on most of the planet. Not only that, but monsters had never been a part of their world. Nor were many other things. The worst they had to deal with seemed to be economic concerns and choosing their future path. Already, Konahora realized that Tyler would need a lot more experience. The very fact that choosing your future was an option, and a difficult one due to too many choices, said volumes. Many, many conversations with him had revealed more. Namely, that beyond magic, Tyler thought of their world as being old in a way. Not in a good way. Primitive.
The more she heard, the more she had come to a conclusion. Tyler needed experience immediately or he would die. She had pushed her concerns to the king and their journey had started in truth. And she had been right, Tyler had made many stubborn decisions without them and taken many naive actions. Letting bandits go was a poor idea in the best of cases and these were not the best of cases. He had been so shocked when they had ambushed them again.
A guiding hand does not control, it lets one make their own mistakes, but saves them from the worst of the consequences. But never all of them or they will not learn.
All told, she viewed the situation with Derek as a good thing. He was an excellent source of experience for the both of them. She had noticed how surprised Tyler had been that there had been a ‘good’ demon and would need to address that later. She had a dark feeling that he had imagined them as nearly mindless monsters, or innately comedically evil, instead of a civilization no different from humans, dwarves, or elves.
As for Riary, she hoped it would serve to dampen her hatred. It’s hard to hate those you break bread with and sleep next to. No matter how justified the hatred, feeding it was a form of poison. Riary had attacked almost without thinking. If it had been an actually strong demon, it could’ve turned into a fight for their lives, or worse.
As for Derek himself, Konahora felt he was a fine young man. Generally nice, good overall, and dealt a poor hand. Cautious and worried. Mostly though, he seemed lost and unsure. Demons came from hell, but they had a complicated relationship with it. They spoke of a True Hell and how they couldn’t reach it. The land they existed on was ‘near’ it, somehow, but wasn’t the right place. They knew this instinctually. Every demon captured and interrogated during the war, and summoned before and after it, had said the same thing.
Most demons came out of hell excited, happy even. Information reached them there, after all. They knew where they’d be going. Konahora got the feeling that Derek did not. She wasn’t an expert on demons or their society, but Derek seemed more like Tyler than a demon. As if he had been pulled off the road and put somewhere random, no information given. Him not even knowing about the gods all but proved it.
She could see his smirk, he gave no effort to hide it, when she had asked about what he wanted to do after he made it to the Elven Kingdom. She wasn’t trying to prevent a slaughter, she had confirmed he wouldn’t do that. She was trying to help him think about it more. The young man was lost and alone, the least she could do was help him light up his path.
She raised a hand towards him.
Derek, exhausted from lack of sleep, suddenly felt a lot more energetic for some reason. He blinked some sleep out of his crusty eyes and breathed deep, a new spring in his step.
