Andarin: The Mountains: Arnleif;

“This city is afraid of me. I have seen its true face.
The streets are extended gutters and the gutters are full of blood and when the drains finally scab over, all the vermin will drown.:
The accumulated filth of all their sex and murder will foam up about their waists and all the whores and politicians will look up and shout 'Save Us!'...:

...and I'll look down, and whisper, 'No'"

Nicodemus held his age well. Those who had not known him would say that he were young, and were it not for his wisdom and the scars that marred his flesh you would never guess how old he really was. It was some force preserving him perfectly into the built frame of a warrior. In all honesty, he didn’t look a Scholar at all.

She asks of the shards, and Nicodemus pins his ears only for a brief second. A look of total malice graces his intense eyes. “Slave.” It was all that he would say. “It was….a nightmare.” He trembles for the first time in a very very long time. “Always a nightmare. I….I was scared that I would hurt you all. That I could no longer control myself…” the scar that lay dead upon his neck became heavy. A scar with a memory more powerful than any others upon his whole body. She asks questions that took a lot to explain, to answer. He listened, his eyes and mind open as they always had been. It was lucky for him that he held such patience where others did not. Perhaps it was age.

He inhales deeply once she is done, the exhale far longer than the inhale.

“Keir….is just fine. He is there when I need him…” he trails, because that was frivolous in the scheme of things.
“Arnlief, I’m going to tell you a story. It will help you understand much, but I need you to listen all the way through.” He smiles sadly. “It is a story about me, and it is not one that I have ever spoken. Not a happy story at all…but…if you are open to listen….” He waits for any rejections she might have, and when they do not come, he continues.

“Before I came here, to the element, I was not like I am today. It was long ago, I was younger….more naļve. Where I lived was far from here, where wars waged always and all the people knew was pain…I was a commander then, and God was I brutal. I had been trained in the most severe ways, and all I knew was what I was told. Never once did I question my authority, no matter how brutal the orders were. Under my command, my army was unstoppable.

“I killed many an innocent life in those days…

“One day, there was a boy in my path, no older than a year. It was when I came upon him that he stopped in fear, his eyes finding mine. The boy was fighting, and it was clear that he didn’t want to. It wasn’t the look in his eyes that stopped me from slaughtering him, however, it was his words suddenly screamed. ‘Why?’ the boy asked, trembling. I stepped back, looking at him. It made me remember my mother, the look of fear in her eyes as the King killed her right before my eyes. It woke something in me, an anger, a will to turn my strength for the better. For what I was built for. To save people who needed it.

“I let the boy go, and ordered my men to fall back. The King that I once was so loyal to…sickeningly so, exiled me to a place that no man could survive. It was that little boy that pressed me into survival, the little boy that made me see that people in this world were suffering, and I could help them.

“It was many months until I came upon a clan of smaller horses, ones who nurtured me back to my health and strength. Realizing the potential that I had, they sent me to an elder horse named Royekr. Royekr taught me everything that he knew, and soon I was stronger than I had been before, soon I was a master in combat. But Royekr was old and wise, and he taught me the Code.

A Knight is sworn to valor.

His heart knows only virtue.

His blade defends the helpless.

His word speaks only truth.

His wrath undoes the wicked.

“He made me swear to the Old Code, that I would use my strength for virtue and never harm. To this day I have held to that Oath and never looked back.”
He is silent for a while. The stars began to stretch out among Andarin.

“Now you know, Arnleif. Why I became a scholar was because of that Code. Because you don’t have to fight to protect others. Only when it is necessary. Being a scholar means Knowing. Knowing what is right. Knowing what is wrong. What Fenris wants with us, I cannot say, because every leader has differing perspectives on us. Do I feel worthy of that title? I never have. The ghosts of my past forbid me from thinking such a thing." He smiles still. It is the most he has ever told anyone, even Skylar.

"Would I go back? Never.”

SEER

**NICODEMUS**

Existence is random. Has no pattern save what we imagine after staring at it for too long. No meaning save what we choose to impose. This rudderless world is not shaped by vague metaphysical forces. It is not God who kills the children. Not fate that butchers them or destiny that feeds them to the dogs. It's us. Only us.