Chapter 8

A gentle breeze caressed his cheek.

His campfire crackled in the silence.

The moon shone down with warmth.

It was all wrong. Too calm. Too peaceful. Too normal for what he’d just heard. The entire world had just been pulled out from under his feet and life had the gall to continue on as if nothing had happened. Where was the earthquake? The thunderclap in the distance? He was...he was supposed to just sit there and accept the death of all humans like it was old news?

He’s lying. He’s an elf. Wants to hurt me. Making shit up. It’s not-

The last vestiges of his willpower ran dry. It had been too much, for too long, and this wasn’t a fight he could win. A monster could be killed. Prey could be slaughtered. Words? Words were far deadlier. A spoken word at the right moment could topple an empire.

Especially if the words were true. Which they were. This was too outlandish a lie to be a lie, and he had to believe that Keira, at least, wouldn’t go along with a charade of this degree.

Silly me, Rob thought. I thought that because the elves identified me as a Human, that there were, in fact, other Humans. Rookie mistake to assume that I wasn’t completely alone in this world.

He tried to laugh. It came out like a wheeze. The elves were watching with pitying gazes that cut like knives. Rob looked back, eyes slightly unfocused as he stared both at them and beyond them.

“Why?” he croaked.

Keira grimaced. Riardin’s expression altered imperceptibly. He started walking away, motioning Rob over with a wave of his hand. “Come.” Keira tried to help him, but he shook off her assistance, grunting in discomfort with every step.

Rob followed. He controlled his body like a puppeteer tugging on strings, willing the limbs to move the way they should in order to walk. Rob wasn’t home right now, so Rob had to take over. There was one task and one task only: follow. He’d been given a directive and the alternative to obeying it was to stand around waiting for a miracle to change the hand he’d been dealt. At least that was how it felt, in these moments where nothing was the way it should be.

They walked perpendicular to the elven village for a bit before breaking off and heading straight into the woods. Keira fussed over something about a lockdown, but both men ignored her as they walked, looking like automatons set on their path. After a few minutes, they arrived at a clearing. Not one that was anywhere near as big as the elven town, but was still big enough to house everyone it needed to.

Rows upon rows of little stone monuments jutted out of the ground. Each one about two feet tall and a foot wide and one side-by-side with other monuments, leaving just enough space between them for a little breathing room. Not that the occupants needed to breathe.

“Your world is familiar with the concept of a graveyard?” Riardin asked. Rob nodded in response. “Good. Each of these stones represents a thousand dead.”

Rob took a three-second guesstimation and tallied the number of tombstones to be in the quadruple-digits. At least. “Ah,” was all he could say. “Each one, a thousand dead humans?”

“A thousand dead elves. Killed by humans.”

Riardin was staring at him again, his face hard and cold – with the exception of his eyes, which were smoldering hot coals. “They gave it pretty little names at first. The War of Six Nations. The Allied Excursion. Names drummed up by politicians and minstrels to glorify the fighting, make it seem grandiose, heroic. The Elves, Dragonkin, Dwarves, Merfolk, and Harpies banding together as one to defeat the existential threat of Humans. A just war, one worth fighting for. At the start, perhaps it even was.”

His lips pressed into a line. “By the time it was over and done with, we settled on calling it The Scouring. A far more apt name for what had occurred. What else would you call the extinction of an entire race, and the loss of over half the people that remained? Not just soldiers; people.”

It was a well-known psychological tenet that one death was a tragedy, while a million was a statistic. People’s brains simply weren’t built to handle tragedy at that massive of a scale. They shed tears over a child lost at an early age, while an airplane crash that killed a hundred was met with a disconnected sense of ‘oh, how horrible.’

Rob didn’t think that particular tenet applied to Riardin. Looking into his eyes, Rob could truly believe that he felt the loss of each and every elf immortalized by those nameless tombstones.

“Nothing to say, Human?” Riardin asked. “A gasp of horror would be more than warranted by now.”

Rob’s gaze swept over the rows of the graveyard. “None of this feels real,” he answered, maybe too honestly.

Riardin stared him down, searching for something, before the intensity in his eyes cooled. Slightly. “If only we could say the same,” he stated. “I would hazard to say that there is not a single person living in this world that made it through The Scouring unscathed. Some less so than others.”

“Riardin,” Keira said, in a worried tone. “I can tell him the rest. You can stop.”

“I’ll stop when it’s done,” he grunted. “Human, to grant you further perspective, I fought in The Scouring. From the first of it to the last of it. A decade of service, fighting on and on without end until I wanted to curl into a corner and let the worms take me, and all I got out of it was this.”

Riardin raised his left hand and held it outwards. Rob hadn’t been able to see it clearly in the darkness, but upon closer inspection it was apparent that the hand was fake. Cast-iron with fingers curled inward so that you could hold things with it. “Lost this halfway through,” Riardin said. “Rendered half my Ranger Skills useless when I did. Can’t dual-wield properly with a fake hand. And if that had been all I lost in The Scouring? Just a hand and strength gained through decades of blood, sweat, and tears? I would have considered myself extremely fortunate.”

He lowered his hand, and for one brief moment, looked lost. “But that was not all. I lost so much more.”

Then he was a stone again. “There are further things I haven’t told you, nor will I tell you, nor will Keira tell you.” He sternly glanced at her when saying the last bit. “We’re done for tonight.”

“No we’re fucking not,” Rob snapped. “What do you mean you haven’t told me everything?” He swept his arm across the graveyard. “There’s more than THIS?”

“Yes,” Riardin stated. “Of which I will not speak of. Partially because, frankly speaking, I don’t think you’re properly equipped to handle it in the state you’re in. Partially because it will come off well to the other elves if you show them your genuine, firsthand emotional reaction of horror when you learn what else there is to know. And partially because talking about all this fucking hurts,” he hissed, “And while you might not be done, I certainly am. You’ll hear the rest tomorrow when we present you to the Elders for judgment.”

Judgment. The word ignited a white-hot flame within Rob; the last gasp of a dying ember. “Judgment for what? Being Human? You mean to tell me that I’m going to be a stand-in for things that people who looked like me did almost a decade ago in a world I was never in?”

“That is a possibility,” Riardin replied. “You haven’t yet truly grasped the magnitude of our trauma. You’re the only Human anyone has known since the end of The Scouring. When the elves of our village look at you, the last thing they’re going to see is you, the person. You will be a symbol. An outlet for their pent-up feelings over what the Humans did to us – and for some, over what we did to the Humans.”

He crossed his arms. “Believe me when I say that I will be fair to you. I, at least, will be fair to you, but your fate is not in my hands. Do not expect fairness from others. Even should the Elders find you sympathetic, when faced with the possibility of healing even a tiny portion of the trauma left by The Scouring in exchange for a single Human life...” He shrugged. “It’s not set in stone. But you shouldn’t be surprised if it comes to pass.”

The elf stood silent, letting his words sink in. Rob took some small comfort in the fact that Keira looked almost as disturbed as he felt.

“Of course, there’s a different option,” Riardin said. “Leave. Strike out in a direction and hope you find a community more amenable to your plight. If you go, I will pretend that this night never happened, and call off any future search parties that may want to hunt you down.” He cocked his head. “What say you?”

The bear flashed through Rob’s mind. Its advent had made it more than apparent that he was out of his depth in the forest. There were scarier things out there than wolves and squirrels and frogs. And a miracle like what he’d done wouldn’t so easily be pulled off twice.

If he stayed in the forest, he would die.

If he went with the elves, he might die.

Rob dug deep. He searched and searched until he reached the very depths of his core. It was at this point of rock bottom that he found – to his great surprise – another nugget of resolve.

He breathed deep, then breathed out. “Just have to convince a bunch of talking heads that I’m an alright guy? Okay. Bring it on.”

Riardin nodded. Rob wasn’t sure if he imagined it or not, but he swore that he saw a modicum of respect flash through the elf’s expression.

“Then let’s finally quit this night.” Riardin turned face and began his walk back to the village. “Would be a waste to let you get eaten by beasts after spending so much time explaining matters, so come with us. Keira will accommodate you for the night.”

She sputtered. “When was this decided?”

“You brought him, you house him.”

Rob looked over the graveyard again. He’d meant it when he said that he had nothing to do with their deaths, and shouldn’t be judged for it, but for some reason, when looking at it all, he couldn’t harden his heart. They didn’t feel completely like a statistic. His emotions were mixed into a potluck of disparate notions; the only thing he was certain of is that he wouldn’t know exactly how to feel about this for a long while.

Time for that later. He shook his head and followed the elves. Guess I’m going on a stealth mission.

–

It was a shockingly easy stealth mission. Not that he was complaining, but where the hell was everybody? Place felt like a ghost town when he was traveling through it with Keira. Almost took the fun out of walking through motherfucking roads again, but not even the night’s revelations could dull that excitement.

“Nice place,” Rob said as he entered Keira’s house. She scoffed as she threw her traveling pack onto a table, sank into the nearest chair, and happily stretched her limbs out as far as they would go.

“It’s a run-down hovel barely bought and paid for on a substandard ranger’s salary that has been repeatedly docked for infractions,” Keira mused. She unstrapped her greatsword and let it fall to the ground with a loud thud that chipped the tiling. “You’ve no need to humor me. I won’t throw you out on the streets if you think my abode is less than luxurious.”

“I’m not humoring you. I could easily see myself living here.” Her house had been somewhat smaller than the other elves’ houses they’d walked past on their way here, but on the inside it was actually quite cozy. There was space enough for several side rooms and a fireplace in a corner, there were bookshelves stocked by an assortment of novels and knickknacks, and the wooden furniture was crafted with elegant artistry while the fabric furniture looked like fluffy clouds condensed into the forms of couches and cushions. The only points that Rob could detract from its aesthetic was the floral-patterned wallpaper – which was objectively pretty but he’d had quite enough of looking at plants – and the numerous scratches and dents in the tiled floor, which made Rob picture Keira coming in after a long day’s work and dropping her greatsword without a care in the world.

Overall, while not quite up to modern Earth housing standards, it was much bigger and nicer than a standard apartment and much bigger and nicer than a standard dorm room. Didn’t stop Keira from arching an eyebrow at him. “Did you live as a pauper back on your home world? Sorry – that was rude of me, I won’t pry unless you’re ready to speak of it. I can scarcely imagine what this ordeal has been like for you.”

“Don’t worry. I haven’t remotely come to terms with it yet, so until any of this sinks in, you’re going to find it very difficult to offend or upset me. Everything will just simmer below the surface, gradually building until one day it explodes and I have a nervous breakdown. Then the cycle will begin anew.”

“That...doesn’t seem like a healthy way to cope.”

“Hey, I didn’t choose to make my brain the way it is. Blame nature and nurture.” Rob took a seat next to her. “I do have a question for you, though, and I promise I’m not trying to come across as ungrateful. Wiiiith that said...” He gave her a half-smile. “When you said you were trying to bring trustworthy people into the fold, I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting you to tap someone who’s killed a shitload of Humans and has every reason to despise me.”

Keira shook her head. “Riardin is the fairest man I know. There was no doubt in my mind that he would give you an honest chance.” She paused. “Well. Perhaps a sliver of doubt. But in the end, it turned out as well as can be expected.”

She leaned back and sighed. “It’s his interpretation of how the others will react that worries me. He presented a worse scenario than I envisioned, but upon reflection, his is far more accurate.”

Rob twiddled his thumbs. “Why don’t you hate me?” he asked, his voice unsure. “After everything Riardin told me...everything that has happened...”

“It’s not like I came out of The Scouring unscathed,” Keira murmured. “I didn’t fight on the front lines, but I still lost friends. Family. I’m no greater fan of Humans than anyone else I know. But I also recognize that not every person is responsible for the sins of their kind. Otherwise, I would have plenty of my own to bear. You weren’t part of the war, you mean no harm to us, and from what I can tell you’re a pretty decent person, deserving of the same fairness that is our right as sentients with reason.”

She sighed again. “I suppose I was naive. I thought that while there would be great troubles at the start, once people got to know you their opinions would change. It’s still possible, just much more difficult than I originally hoped. We’re scaling a cliff instead of a hill.”

“Well, I already scaled an actual cliff, so a repeat performance shouldn’t be any problem.”

She leaned forward with an excited expression. “Did you really? Which one? How high was it? Were there any troubles? How much did your Climbing skill level?”

Rob scratched the back of his head. “Okay, admittedly it was only ten feet of a cliff. Was a really arduous ten feet though! Had to make my own footholds and everything.”

Keira smirked at him. “You do realize that’s not the same. Any life experience contributes to your growth, but greater rewards are given for challenges with risk to them. A ten foot drop is too much of a safety net.”

Rob exhaled. “It wasn’t ten feet from the bottom. It was ten feet from the top.”

“...how did you get there?”

“I fell.”

She blinked. “I’m beginning to understand how you ended up with 50 Vitality at Level 8.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Hopefully I get to change that soon. Not today, though, too tired and hungry for any big decisions. If I think about anything important my brain is going to leak out my ears.”

“On that note, would you like something to eat?” She headed into what looked like a kitchen. “My selections are a little sparse, but I surmise you could go for some veal.”

Rob heard the heavenly host playing a celebratory tune in the background. “No berries?”

“None at the moment.”

“Then yes. A thousand times, yes. Just for suggesting that you’re now my third-best friend.”

She giggled. “Who are the first two?”

“The 2nd-best is Old Reliable.” Rob patted his sword. “The 1st...is someone I hope I get to see again someday.”

Keira nodded, suddenly very quiet. Rob realized too late that he’d brought up friends right after she’d lost one. He wished he could take the words back, but they were out in the open now, running wild and making a mess of the place. “Sorry,” he said.

“It’s alright,” she replied, softly. “You meant nothing by it.”

“Still. I’m sorry for your loss.”

She nodded, not responding. Rob sat back and resolved not to speak again until he’d dislodged the foot from his mouth.

Keira perused her lacking food stores for a few minutes – which was long enough for the exhaustion to set into him. In a space of relative safety, and without the need to constantly be looking over his shoulder, he suddenly felt like he’d come down with a severe case of jet lag. Would she mind if I took a rest? He thought. I hope not. Running on fumes.

Rob gave the house a quick-once over. Has to be a bedroom here. Wonder if it’s comfy. He shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts, which were getting blearier by the second. Can’t ask to rest in someone’s bed. That would be weird. The couch makes more sense.

He made it halfway to the couch before settling for the floor, half-laying and half-crashing onto the cold stone, and passing out the moment he closed his eyes.