It was a pleasant night, with the moon visible only hazily in the cloudy sky.
I would have liked to stay a little tipsy, but I used the Prayer of Detoxification to remove the alcohol from my bloodstream. I had no idea when a battle could occur. I couldn’t yet afford to abandon myself to liquor.
Suddenly, I heard the flapping of wings. A large raven alighted on a twisted branch next to me. It had glossy black feathers and red eyes that had something ominous about them.
“Is your journey progressing smoothly?”
It was the Herald-raven of the god of undeath, Stagnate.
“Yes, so far at least… owowow.”
A warning from the god of the flame rang like a headache through my head.
I’m sorry, but please calm down, God, it’s okay.
“Hahaha. Gracefeel really does love you.”
The raven clicked its beak in laughter. Then it paused for a beat, tilted its head, and said,
“Would you like to try being loved by me as well?”
“Very funny. So? Get to the point.” I stared into its red eyes.
“It’s nothing, really. Just a warning. If you are to turn back, this is likely your final opportunity.”
At the same time, the ground shook. I heard a rumbling that seemed to reverberate from the bowels of the earth. rrrrrrrRRRRRRRRR…
I could hear roaring from the mountain range to the west. It was a terrifying sound that seemed to grip my soul within clenched talons. As the roaring came to an end, silence fell. Even the merry musical tunes of the elven village stopped dead as though petrified by the noise.
“I will say it one more time. If you challenge him, you will die.”
His red eyes were piercing.
“If you take on the dragon, you will die, with no way to escape.”
The god of undeath spoke flatly.
“Build up your strength.”
“If I do that, Al and the others will die, I expect. If the dragon is to harm anyone, the dwarves believe that their blood should be first to be spilled.”
“Indeed, the dwarves will die. Humans, elves, and dwarves alike will die
in the hundreds, even thousands, when the foul-dragon awakens. But as a result of the casualties, faith will collect around you and Gracefeel.”
The gods’ power depended upon faith. Each time the damage caused by the foul-dragon increased, belief would gather around my god as people turned to her for help to get rid of the dragon. The power that my god gained from people’s wishes and prayers would feed directly into my own battle strength, provided that Gracefeel blessed me with it, and it would certainly be power enough for slaying a dragon.
“If the dragon causes great harm, skilled warriors and other ambitious,
talented people will gather from all over hoping to gain fame by slaying it.
As will disciples of the good gods charged with a mission. If you band those
heroes together under the protection of Gracefeel returned to full strength,
you will be able to make your blade reach the foul-dragon’s throat.”
Once again, I was reminded how convincing his words were.
“I am not fond of a plan like this, either. But you should allow there to be victims. It would be a courageous course of action, not a cowardly one.”
It was a convincing and sound argument. However—
“I can’t do that.”
“Why? Do you wish to save everything that badly?”
The Herald-raven shifted on the branch, irritated.
“I’ll grant you this: If you continue onward without forsaking a single thing, there may remain the slightest of possibilities that you could save everything you desire to save. But if you fail, the lives lost will not be a matter of ten or twenty thousand. And it will be a while before there is another hero who compares to you. For the sake of protecting some
thousands of lives, you would put ten or even a hundred times that number
at risk, even knowing what I’ve told you? It is the height of recklessness.”
“Stagnate, god of undeath, I’m sure you’re right.”
I did think he was. I could find no fault with his logic. If I was looking for the optimal solution, that was probably it.
“If you agree, then—”
“But the moment I do that, the oath and devotion I depend upon will be broken.”
The god of undeath’s eyes grew wide.
Yes — that was the one problem.
“And you’re deliberately talking about ‘the right decision’ because you know that.”
“…”
It was to break my resolve and incorporate me into his forces. As though this were some pagan ritual in which power was gained by sacrificing people at an altar, he was recommending that the best path was to give up, to let it happen, to gain power in exchange for blood and flesh.
“Am I wrong?”
“…”
The god of undeath’s answer was silence.
“Stagnate, god of undeath.”
“Yes?”
“I am a weak person. I know myself to be just an ordinary human with a fickle heart, easily swayed and broken and quick to give up.”
I had no intention of saying that being reborn had changed me. The fundamental nature of my heart, my soul, probably hadn’t changed from my previous world. So if I let something happen, if I gave up on it, that would be the moment when I would break. I understood how that descent worked, and it started with making excuses that there was nothing I could do, that I had no opportunities, that it was impossible to continue — accumulating reasons to give up, and repeating those same excuses to myself over and over.
“But despite that, my god taught me that it was okay to start over. She allowed me to stand up and walk on my own two feet once more.” While staring into the god of undeath’s red eyes, I spoke of my feelings toward the god of the flame. “I was able to meet my precious family. I made treasured friends and allies. I have things I’m meant to do and things I want to do. She gave me the opportunity to reach out my hand once more for the things I’d lost, the things I’d given up on.”
I had no idea how I could ever thank her enough. That reticent god wearing a hood had given me many truly precious things. And that was why.
“I will see that through. I will keep to my oath, keep faith in my heart, and until the very instant I fall over dead, I will be her hands and her blade.”
Maybe it wasn’t optimal, maybe it was twisted and ugly, but it was my belief that it was the only way for me. It was the only road before me, lit by the light of her flame.
“On the flame of Gracefeel.”
“…”
The god of undeath still remained silent. Saying nothing, he looked at me… and sighed deeply.
“Dear, dear. Another attempt failed.”
The distant sound of music could once again be heard from the elven village.
Although they had stopped for a time because of the roaring of the dragon, they seemed to have gotten over it and started playing again. The crystal-clear, jaunty tones of a harp echoed pleasantly around the forest.
“You are correct. I realized it from the moment I first met you. Your soul
is not particularly strong. If you give up, you will break and begin your descent. Your soul is nothing more than that, and I was well aware of it.”