Taron’s lips pursed.
“How many of you have actually tried talking to some of the creatures we share hell with? Hmm?” Scorio’s fury was dull and powerful, and he realized it was misplaced; these people weren’t the cause of all the ills he’d seen, but they were complicit. “How many of you just accept everything you’re told like good little soldiers and kill what you’re told to kill? Did you pass through the Fury Spires? If so, did you just tell yourself it was fine for Bravurn to keep Queen Xandera as his slave? That it was fine for him to murder her entire people?”
“Whoa,” said Merideva, raising both palms. “We didn’t mean to upset you, Scorio. We just came to say hello.”
“And I’m doing you the favor of telling you to wake up.” His pulse pounded in his temple. “Bravurn betrayed all of us. He was a Herdsmen. He manipulated and murdered and did who knew what else. Yet how many signed up to be his Iron Vanguard? I had no chance of drawing the Blood Ox into the open without Xandera’s help, yet how many of you ignored her plight? Gave it any thought at all?”
Nobody spoke.
“Look.” Scorio tried to control his tone. “We’ve precious few years left till all is lost. So you want to know how I did what I did? How I made Pyre Lord, how I killed Bravurn, forced a True Fiend out of hiding, and all the rest of it? For one, I’ve stopped trusting my superiors. Just because a Blood Baron or Crimson Earl says it doesn’t mean a thing. They could be a Herdsmen, and probably are. Two, I’m throwing out all the established wisdom about hell. I’m making decisions for myself. I want to close the Pit, sure, but not if it means accepting lies and killing fiends who don’t deserve it. As far as I’ve seen, we’re the monsters out here. We’re the ones who kill and oppress, enslave and slaughter.”
“The Blood Ox wants a word with you,” said Taron quietly.
“Oh yeah, that’s right. What did the Blood Ox remind me of? Another Great Soul.”
Several of those present narrowed their eyes at this.
“Easy,” said Taron. “True Fiends are our enemies. That’s not accepted wisdom, that’s historical fact. What do you think the Blood Ox wanted to do in Bastion?”
“I’m not saying they’re our friends. I’m saying he looked like no fiend I’ve ever seen. He looked like one of us. He had more in common with Imogen the Woe than Xandera or Nox.”
Taron’s mocking expression was gone. “And you’ve seen all there is to hell?”
“I’ve seen enough to call it as I see it. My point is this: if you want to make a difference, ask questions. Trust your senses over what people tell you. Wake the hell up. Don’t assume fiends are your enemies just because that’s what you’ve been told.”
“Got it,” said Taron, then inhaled sharply and looked around at the others. “Well! That was a salutary lesson! I think we’ve all benefited from Scorio’s wisdom. Time for lunch.”
Taron pushed through the sparse crowd. Penaela and Rharvyn followed.
Merideva hopped off the window sill. “I hear what you’re saying. And I’m not saying you’re wrong. It’s just… a big ask. To change my entire view of how hell works. Not trust Imperators? Side with fiends instead?” She grimaced. “But you’re the proof of your own argument. I’ll consider your words. Regardless, it’s good to see you again. Look me up while you’re in town. Let’s get that drink.” And she stepped in, gave him a light hug, and then departed.
Fyrona remained by the doorway, a crease between her brows. “Don’t mind Taron. He’s always seen himself as the hero of this entire saga of ours. He finds it hard to accept that someone else could have figured stuff out that he’s missed.”
“Fyrona.” Scorio took a deep breath. “Before he died, Alain… well. He was really excited to take you out on that date. He spoke a lot about you. You were always on his mind.”
Fyrona nodded sharply and hugged herself tighter. “I’m sorry for your loss. He was your friend, wasn’t he?”
Scorio hesitated for only a moment. “Yeah. One of my best friends.”
“I wish I could have gotten to know him better. He seemed like a good guy.” She considered. “A little strange. But in a way that made me want to know more.”
“He’d have been happy to hear that.”
Nyrix spoke up for the first time. “What are you doing from here?”
“Depends on what I find.” Scorio ran his hand tiredly through his hair. “I’m doing a little research on those Herdsmen. If I find something good, I might use it to hunt them down.”
“Bravurn was a Blood Baron,” said Nyrix softly. “What if the others are higher ranked?”
Scorio forced a smile. “Hasn’t stopped me yet.”
“And you think…” Nyrix tried to find the right words. “That they’re in control of everything? Even the Imperators?”
“I don’t know. But it’s what I aim to find out. I’m never going to do what I’m told without knowing the why of it all. And right now, that means rooting out this evil and seeing what’s left.”
Kelona spoke up. “So you don’t trust anybody?”
“No, there are a few people I trust.” Scorio considered. “Naomi, Lianshi, Nox, Xandera, the White Queen, probably. I want to trust Moira and Ravenna. I think I trusted Plassus, by the end of it.”
Kelona’s distress was obvious. “So if we’re to take your advice, then… what? We should refuse to do what people say?”
“You need to figure that out,” said Scorio softly. “You need to find your own goals, and then pursue them with all the integrity and effort you can muster.”
Nyrix scoffed. “How are we supposed to pick a goal when everything could be tainted by these Herdsmen?”
Scorio had no answer to that.
Fyrona raked her white hair back. “Well, I’m going to take your words to heart. Doesn’t mean I’m about to run off into the desert seeking fiends for friends, but I’m no fool. I’ll work on Taron. Once his pride subsides, I think he’ll also agree. I’ll see you around?”
“Sure,” said Scorio. He stood and accepted her quick embrace, then sat again as she left.
“I don’t know,” said Nyrix, scuffing the toe of his boot against the floor. “I’ve never asked the kind of questions you’ve been asking, but I guess it was because I didn’t even think they needed asking. I thought the House Autocrators and the higher ranks were telling the truth. That we’re all working together to close the Pit and get back to Eterra. Now…?”
Kelona nodded, her eyes large. “I think it was dying that did it to me.” She gave an abrupt laugh. “What a ridiculous thing to say, right? But in that moment, just before… well. I wanted nothing more than to live. It was like this… scream from my soul. Of denial. Refusal. And when I awoke, the Imperator already flying off, I felt this… need. To make the most of this second chance.” Her emotion was such that her eyes had become glassy with tears. “It has to mean something, being brought back. I want it to mean something. I can’t just go back to doing what I was doing before. Trying to become a Dread Blaze. I want to… by the ten hells, I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.”
“I think I know,” said Nyrix. “It’s what I’m feeling. I’m not a very outspoken person, but when I get a strong feeling, I act on it.” He stared at Scorio. “And right now, I’m feeling drawn to your hunt for these Herdsmen. It feels important. We don’t know each other very well, but if you’re open to a traveling companion -”
“Or two,” said Kelona impulsively.
“Or two,” allowed Nyrix with a smile, “then I think we’d like to help.”
Scorio studied them both. “I don’t need to warn you about how dangerous this will be.”
Nyrix smiled. “I think we’re all well aware.”
Kelona nodded mutely.
“That being said, I’ve grown pretty paranoid over the last couple of years. If you want to help, then I’d ask you first swear a Heart Oath attesting to your not being Herdsmen, in their employ, or seeking to help them in any way.”