Chương 16: The Starboy And The Consequences of Duty

Everything for Enel dropped. But the fire continued to crackle as it had been doing so the entire night. But for that single moment, no one moved. The camp was too small for anyone not to have heard Ulf's confession, and it was definitely too small for them not to see what Enel had just done. Everyone was just... quiet. He was on his knees, his hand still stretched forward, his fingers still shaped around a sword that was no longer there. His sword lay beside him, and Ulf lay in front of him.

Tiny stood on the other side of the fire with both hands covering his mouth. His eyes were wide, and the light of the flames trembled inside them. He stared at Ulf first, then at Enel, then at the blood darkening the dirt.

"M'lord…" Tiny whispered.

"W-what... what have you done?" Enel did not answer; he couldn't. His breath moved in and out of him, but it felt like it belonged to someone else. He looked at Ulf's body, at the face that only a moment ago had smiled at him with something like relief. The wryness was gone now. Everything was gone now. Enel slowly reached for his sword, causing Tiny to flinch. Enel saw it, and his hand stopped. Neither of them spoke. After a few breaths, Enel lowered his hand again and instead crawled closer to Ulf.

His knees dragged through the dirt. He carefully placed his fingers on Ulf's face, closing his eyes the way he'd close many before—but cattle, never people. Ulf was not a cow. He wasn't a beast, at least... not anymore. He only knew him as Ulf of the East. That... that should have been the only way he knew him.

"I need…" His voice trembled.

"I need to bury him." Tiny did not move, but the caravan did. Not all at once. First, one person rose from the nearest fire—an older man who heard everything from the start. The others were still perplexed and confused. They stared at the body, then at the sword on the dirt. They saw the young lord kneeling beside the man he had been laughing with only hours before. No one came close at first.

Then the older man returned with a shovel and placed it on the ground several steps away from Enel, careful not to meet the young lord's gaze. He did, however, kneel beside him for a moment to offer one single line of prayer.

"You are now one with the Earthmother." And he left. Enel's eyes stayed on the ground, then he only looked at the shovel for a moment before taking it. Tiny was still standing there, not knowing what to do at all or where to go. He watched Enel walk away with the shovel, moving farther from the group without saying anything at all. He just... started digging. The ground was dry, and by all means, it should've been easy for him to dig.

He could lift wagons, shatter stone, and tear through the forest faster than wind, but digging a grave without destroying the earth beneath it was slow. Too slow. Every time the shovel bit into the dirt, Enel had to hold back. Every time his hands tightened, the wooden handle creaked. Tiny watched from the edge of the firelight. He didn't help, he didn't even know if he wanted to. By the time the grave was deep enough, several others had gathered in the distance. None of them stood near, none of them spoke to him.

They only watched, whispering to one another whenever they thought he could not hear. They dispersed when he returned to the camp. He carefully lifted Ulf's body with both arms, gently carrying him back to the hole he dug. This time, Tiny followed behind him. Enel placed Ulf into the earth as gently as he could. Ulf looked... smaller in the grave. Enel once again fell to his knees, and his hands folded.

"Sovereign of the Seven Laws," he whispered, his voice still trembling.

"I... I have done what I..." He stared at Ulf's body, his prayer dying before it could start.

"Urthmother. He is with you now." The wind moved across the camp, carrying dust through the firelight—and that was all the answer he received from his prayer. He began covering the grave, and only after the last of the dirt was placed did Tiny move. He stepped closer, slowly. His eyes were red, and his lips trembled as much as Enel's.

"Was…" Tiny's voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again.

"I thought… he was your friend?" Enel looked at the mound of dirt.

"He... is." Tiny's fingers curled at his sides.

"Then why?" Enel closed his eyes. He had asked himself that already.

"Because it is my duty," Enel said. Tiny looked away.

"He was sorry," he whispered.

"I know."

"He tried to be better."

"I know."

"Then…" Tiny's shoulders shook.

"He... he was trying to repent, M'lord. Then what... what is the point of trying to be better?" Enel had a lot of answers, but at the same time, he had none. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. He wanted to say that becoming better mattered. That repentance mattered. That giving everything to an orphanage mattered. That saving people as an Adventurer mattered. That laughing beside a fire mattered. It did. It had to. But Ulf still killed children and let their mothers watch.

"I do not know," Enel said. Tiny stared at him. Enel opened his mouth to speak again, but Tiny had already stepped back.

"Tiny…" The boy flinched, which made Enel freeze.

"I'm…" Tiny swallowed.

"I'm going to sleep, M'lord." Tiny turned and walked away quickly, not running, but close. Enel remained beside the grave... until the caravan moved again in the morning. Enel... was now alone on the cart. Tiny rode elsewhere, and the others with them did the same. The young noble didn't seem to notice at all, however. The world just continued for him. Wheels creaked. Horses snorted. Birds crossed the sky in small dark shapes.

Spirits moved through the grass in tiny flashes of color, then vanished into stones and roots when the caravan passed too close. Somewhere ahead, someone laughed at something, but the sound died quickly when others hushed him. The road was the same, the sky was the same. The sun warmed the same shoulders. But the journey... the journey had lost its color. Enel sat with his hands folded in his lap. His sword had been cleaned and sheathed again, but he did not touch it.

He had almost left it where Ulf had been killed. He had wanted to. It felt so heavy in his hands that even now, he felt like he would be swallowed by the earth beneath him along with it. Still, he carried the sword. All day. The caravan stopped twice. Once for water. Once for a broken wheel. Enel did not move either time, he didn't help. By the time night came, the caravan had reached a narrow river cutting through the dry land. The water was shallow, but somewhat not calm.

The carts settled farther back from the bank, and food was passed around. But Enel only took his bowl and walked away until the caravan couldn't see him anymore. He sat beside the river where the grass thinned into mud, far enough from the camp that he almost couldn't see the fire. He placed the bowl beside him, not feeling any hunger at all. For a long while, he only listened to the river. Then he clasped his hands.

"Sovereign of the Seven Laws," he whispered,"I asked the Three Questions. He answered. He had no answer that could spare him." He repeated the same words he uttered, this time with the river as his witness.

"I... at the moment... I hated him. I hated the person he was. But... I do not?" Only a frog answered him, croaking behind a stone.

"I... I made it swift." His fingers tightened around one another, lightly hitting his forehead with the bone of his thumb.

"I did what was required of me. I did what a noble should do. What a servant beneath your law should do. I did not break my oath. I did not allow murdered children to go unanswered." His voice shook. He looked to the other side of the river, and his teeth started to show—and without even meaning to, a scream tore through his throat. The sound rippled through the air, blowing away the water in front of him. It was so loud that those from the camp heard it through their stomach.

It lasted only for a moment, but they felt it. They all felt it. Enel continued to stare at the other side of the river, watching everything settle in front of him.

"So w-why… so why does it feel like I am wrong?" His clasped hands opened and fell onto the damp ground, throwing mud everywhere.

"Why... why does it hurt?"

"Why is it... so heavy?" He clasped his chest, covering the insignia of his family in mud.

"Why does my hand still feel it? Why did he smile? Why did he say sorry? Why... why did he make me do it?" His head lowered.

"No. No, that is wrong." He pressed his muddied hands to his face.

"He did not make me. I did it. I did it because it was right. It was right." Enel's shoulders began to shake.

"Then why does it feel like I am wrong? Why..." And then, the first sob broke out of him before he could stop it. He covered his mouth, but that only made the sound worse, smaller and uglier as it forced its way through his fingers.

"Father…" His voice cracked.

"M-mother…" The names ruined him. He bent forward until his forehead almost touched the mud. His hair fell around his face, hiding him from the shame eating him up.

"I... did what I was supposed to do," he choked.

"I did. I asked. I tried. I wanted one of them to save him. I wanted… I wanted him to stop talking. I wanted him not to say it. I... I wanted..." He grabbed his hair, twisting it with the mud.

"He... he was my friend. He..." Enel gritted his teeth.

"He was my friend." And the words he uttered made him wail. Not cry, not weep. Wail. His face twisted, and any nobility he had was stripped away. His snot fell, his tears mixed in with the mud. His body curled, and his hands clawed at the dirt. For all his height, for all his strength, for all the eyes that had called him lord and hero and monster, he looked exactly like what he was. A thirteen-year-old child.

"Mother..." he sobbed.

"Mother... please... please...... I want to go home." And as always, the river gave no answer. But behind a tree several yards away, Tiny stood with both hands pressed over his mouth. He had followed quietly, not knowing why. Maybe to apologize, maybe... to ask a question? Maybe just to see if Enel was truly as calm as he had looked all day. He had his answer now. Tears began to ravish his own face, but he didn't step forward. He didn't run away, either. He just stood there, hidden in the dark......

watching the young lord of Widow's Wall cry for his mother beside the river. Morning came again, even grayer this time. Enel was alone on the cart again. His eyes were red, though his face and hair were clean. The others were still getting ready, and everyone was still avoiding his eyes. But still, he didn't notice. He just closed his eyes, waiting for them to move again. But then... the cart dipped. Enel opened his eyes, and Tiny was there seated in front of him. Neither of them spoke.

Tiny held a piece of bread in both hands, not really looking at Enel at all. For a while, he only stared at the bread, then he tore it in half and held one piece out. Enel looked at the bread, then at Tiny.

"You should eat, M'lord," Tiny said.

"I... was told we would be at the battlefield by sundown." Enel also stared at the piece of bread for a moment before taking it with both hands.

"Thank you, Tiny." Tiny nodded once, and the two of them ate in silence as the cart began to move. And by noon, the wind changed. It no longer smelled of grass or even dirt. It smelled of smoke... of iron. They all saw it—the trace of the battle that had been going on for years. Graves, thousands of them. The caravan continued on with the Northern Whiteplains stretching across the horizon. Hours passed, and soon, they saw it.

A sky completely blotted out by dark smoke, and the tents that covered the fields like mold. Banners snapped in the wind. Supply carts crawled between rows of men, horses, trenches, cookfires, wounded bodies, and sharpened stakes. But no violence greeted them there, no roars of death. Not yet. War... war was awfully quiet at night. The only sound they could hear was the groaned pain of those who hadn't died. No glory waited for them, a stark contrast to all the stories and books Enel had heard and read.

He stood slowly, and Tiny stood beside him.

"M'lord..." Tiny whispered, looking at all the tents scattered everywhere, all with their own injured.

"... How would we find your people here?"