novelnext Ep 195. Warmonger. (2)
Ep 195. Warmonger. (2)
Ep 195. Warmonger. (2)
Ep 195. Warmonger. (2)
New house.
“...”
New furniture.
“...”
New...well, everything.
The grass was greener than ever, the windows were as clear as crystal, the walls were perfectly painted, and every piece of furniture was new. And it wasn’t just one house, either: the entire neighborhood had been rebuilt from the ground up. Patrick had honestly thought that his sibling would be overjoyed to see their renewed home upon returning.
Unfortunately, to this day, his eccentric sibling hadn’t so much as made a single comment about how everything was new and shiny. Instead of looking around the renewed neighbourhood, Serenis had busied herself with handling piles of dusty old parchments ever since she’d come home.
‘Eccentric may not even cut it...’
When the dragonlord had first told Patrick of everything that had happened since her departure, he could scarce believe half of what she was telling him.
But when both Karas and Light chimed in to vouch for the authenticity of the dragonlord’s tale, he had little choice but to believe her.
At least she hadn’t sold Aldrid to some shady merchant like he’d thought at first.
“...”
The mage silently turned his head towards the dragonlord.
Serenis peacefully sat in by the fireplace – a little too peacefully – with a pile of dusty documents set at her side. Like this, she almost did seem like an elder lady during a winter’s night, sorting through her treasured memories by the fireplace.
If only she weren’t feeding the letters to the fire one by one.
The house was neither dark nor cold, but the fire was kept alive for the sole purpose of incinerating the letters in her hands. Serenis would seemingly spare a single glance at each document, toss it aside to the fire, and proceed to the next.
And Patrick knew for a fact Serenis wasn’t reading them properly. Else, her eyes would be moving across the parchment, not...to and from them.
Finally mustering the courage, Patrick approached his sibling from behind. An unnecessarily melodic voice masked his unease as he peeked over her shoulder.
“So...whatcha looking at?”
“Letters.”
“...Let me rephrase that. Are you reading those things, or are you just skimming them?”
Finally turning her head to face her human brother, Serenis looked to Patrick with her usual indifference – though, he could swear her eyes looked disappointed.
“Patrick. It’s inappropriate to read letters that you aren’t the recipient of.”
“What? Of course it’s – wait, those aren’t directed to you?”
“No. Many aren’t.”
This time, it was Patrick’s turn to frown.
Alas, it was an improvement – before, he would’ve followed up with a ridiculed outburst of some sort. Like wondering if she’d stolen them from a local post office.
But this time, the mage simply held his tongue, waiting for the dragonlord to explain the situation.
“...It seems most were never meant to be received. They’re directed to those who’ve long passed away, long before they were written.”
“So they’re letters to the dead?...Is that some sort of dragon custom?”
“...”
After turning her attention back to the parchment in hand, Serenis slowly shook her head.
“No, I don’t recall there being such customs...though, such practices may have taken root for a short while in the past.”
They were directed to parents. Elders. Ancestors, even.
Following the end of their era, the dragons had been devoid of elders except Vulka – for the other children left behind, all generations above theirs had practically evaporated. Considering the environment they were left in, developing an odd custom or two wasn’t all too surprising.
Although, a few letters did manage to find their recipient still.
As Serenis removed another from the pile of dusty parchment, she briefly skimmed the name written along its corners – and this time, it wouldn’t be fed to the fire. She instead brushed the bits of dust over its surface, longingly scanning the olden script.
“Oh? You’re not throwing that one away?”
“...No. It seems this one’s directed to myself.”
“Huh. Good thing you can read those...runes. What does it say?”
“Well...this one says...”
...I sought to preserve your name. I sought to preserve your deeds, if only in words.
Given what the Summit had become, it seemed an easy task. I needed but find your name, and walk away with the tome in hand.
But, strangely, I couldn’t manage to find your name.
The other tribal lords were present. Their preceding lords were present. Even my own name remained recorded in the Summit’s archives.
But amidst the endless array of bloodied tomes, nowhere could I find one that carried your name as its title.
Anyone else, and he would’ve doubted the information’s source – but with Iris being who she was, there was no reason to doubt what she was saying.
And if the deity of creation really was responsible for the entirety of Karia, then...
“...That would mean...this whole war shenanigan is actually being perpetrated by a deity?”
“We’d be lucky if she was only perpetrating it. The Letherien I know would be doing the killing herself.”
“She’d WHAT? What kind of deity is that??”
“...”
For a moment, Iris’ gaze fell to the floor.
This was exactly why Felicir had forced the others to an agreement: to never speak of the Twelve’s qualities with non-deities. Not only was it a risk to their positions as divinities, some were just outright shameful to admit.
In the prolonged silence, Iris continued to contemplate an appropriate answer to Patrick’s question.
It’d take days for Iris to regale her friend about everything the deity of creation had done throughout their rule. There were countless times when she’d disturbed the star – both directly and indirectly – that had warranted the Reaper’s attention.
So, if Iris were to choose a single word to best describe Letherien, she’d choose the exact same one Felicir used to describe them with.
“Warmonger.”
“...Warmonger?”
“...Yep.”
“The deity of creation is a warmonger??”
“...I’ll tell you about it some other time. But for now...”
With painstaking effort, Iris struggled to meet the dragonlord’s eyes again. But when she finally did, Serenis returned a quiet nod, rising to their feet afterwards.
...And was immediately called out by her brother.
“Woah woah woah, hold on. Where do you think you’re going?”
“To where this deity is. Asuria, you said?”
“Have you been listening? They’re at war! You’re actually planning on going to a battlefield?!”
“...It’s an opportunity to destroy another divinity fragment. That alone is reason enough to go.”
“Listen to yourself! You’ve barely been back home for two weeks, and now you want to fly over to another country? Wars aren’t a joke, Serenis! And who knows what else you’ll get up to this time!”
“...”
“And you!”
As Patrick angrily turned towards Iris, she reflexively retreated a step, lips twitching in unease.
“You’re a part of the problem! She’s not your go-to solution for every deity problem! Sending her with Lady Aldrid was one thing, but this is a different story – I’m not letting you send my sibling to a warzone!”
“...Listen, I really don’t want to rely on her, either. But with Felicir gone, no one’s going to stop Letherien. And once Asuria is devastated, it’ll be here next.”
“Aren’t there a bunch more of you?! Get some other deity to stop her!”
“...Some-other-deity who? Other than Letherien, all that’s left are Aldrid, Zenon, and the trio in Yuhan. But Aldrid’s away, and...I don’t even really know where the other four are.”
“That’s no excuse, you’re-”
“...”
Serenis let out a quiet sigh as she watched the two continue to argue. If she let them be, they’d remain arguing for a good hour, at least.
And soon enough, the dragonlord stepped in between the two arguing mages, physically distancing them apart as she exchanged glances with both.
“Patrick...I must go. It’s what my own kind died to achieve in the past. If a divinity is outwardly wreaking havoc onto the star’s inhabitants, then that’s all the more reason to.”
“...”
As Patrick struggled to deliver a suitable reply, Serenis made a faint smile as she added a layer of compromise for her brother.
“But seeing as how I’d be leaving without your consent...as a compromise, you’re welcome to follow along. Without my consent.”
“...What sort of compromise is that?”
“Would you rather stay behind again, then?”
“...”
Unlike last time, there was no broken city that needed being taken care of; on top of that, having quit his job as an enforcer, no duty bound the mage to Partivine as it did before.
It also didn’t help that after Serenis’ previous trip, Patrick had heard far too much about how Karas and Light had seemingly been of far more help to her than her brother had ever been. Multiple times he’d wished to have been present while listening to the dragonlord’s tales, and he wasn’t about to make the same mistake.
So, bottom line...
“...I didn’t say that.”
Serenis’ smile grew evidently wider upon hearing her brother’s reply.
Meanwhile, in a voice barely above a whisper, Iris muttered to no one in particular.
“Of course you didn’t.”