The ether blade which flew at the beast wasn't any larger than those before, but it was condensed from so much ether that no one could look at it without being blinded. The blade was as bright as the midday sun.
The beast tried to dodge, but the two of them were too close for that. Ether rammed into its head, sending the creature flying back at the soldiers on their horses. Some four people and animals were thrown to the ground, crushed underneath its weight.
Arawn watched it with a strange sense of detachment. He thought he should care about the fact that he'd hurt innocents again, but there was nothing within him. The moment ether rushed out of him, he felt like an emptied out shell. There was no life left within him.
His hands shook, but not because of the expenditure of energy. There was a sense of loss and ruin in him, like he'd let go of something extremely precious. Moments before, he'd felt like a god with all the world under his feet, but that sensation was already gone. Once ether left from his body, he returned to being a mere mortal.
'You're a monster, an abomination.'
The familiar words brought him back to his senses. He shook his head and pushed all the emotions that weren't his. Ether was getting smarter and smarter, its temptations less obvious.
"I control it and not the other way around," he whispered to himself and looked up at the scene of the attack.
The beast was raising its head from a pile of corpses. There was a bloody gash on top of its forehead, but the creature was still alive. Corwal was by its side however. He leaped forward and stabbed his sword straight into the wound.
An ear-splitting howl came from the beast's throat, but it soon went quiet, choked by something. The beast's chilling eyes focused on Corwal with a strange clarity at that moment. Its mouth opened as if to say something, or growl more, but life left its body.
The creature slumped back, its raised head falling with a soft thump on a horse's body.
The other soldiers rushed in at that moment. In a fury, they ignored Corwal and stabbed at the creature with all their might. It didn't matter to them that it was dead. Shouting battle cries and mockeries, they mutilated its body until it was a bloody mess.
Only then was their bloodlust assuaged. They chortled and threw off their helmets with cheerful cries. Those still alive hugged each other and went to their fallen comrades. They freed those crushed under their horses and helped them up while pulling those who wouldn't be raising up again to the side.
"At least pretend that you're exhausted," Corwal whispered upon returning to his side. "Just how much ether can you use?"
Before Arawn could answer that he had no idea, one of the soldiers jogged to their side. He had a bob of dark hair and looked relatively young. "Thanks for the help," he said with a half bow.
"Just doing our duty," Corwal said.
Unlike Arawn, he looked exhausted. All the running and using ether had left him sweaty and out of breath. His expression was neutral however, like it wasn't him who'd dealt the last blow.
"Much more than that." The young man laughed. "Few people would risk their lives for strangers. Come with me now, I'll introduce you to the commander."
Arawn had no wish to meet any military leader, but Corwal raised his hand to stop him from saying anything. They collected Eliot and their gear and went into the city. The soldier led them to one of the guard towers where they had to go up three flights of stairs to reach the top.
There, they entered a small room guarded by two soldiers. They were dressed in armor encrusted with a couple pinkish gems, but Arawn recognized them as onyxes. Their ether negating abilities were unmistakable.
The two men stepped away upon recognizing the soldier and bowed slightly to him. He passed them without a second glance.
Inside the room, a white-haired middle-aged man was standing by the window with a long tool held by his eye. He looked through it for a moment more, then turned around, presenting them with his age-weathered face. His wrinkles had wrinkles, and his eyes were deep in their folds as if looking from the bottom of a well.
"Welcome to Shtara, young men. How may I address you?"
"I'm Corwal, and these are my brothers Arawn and Eliot. It is our honor to meet you, Your Grace." While saying that, Corwal bowed with his hands palms up before him.
Eliot did the same, and Arawn realized that he should probably do it too. He tried, but it was a pathetic approximation of the respectful act. It looked so bad he wondered if it would have been better if he had just stood straight as a rod and not embarrassed himself and his companions.
"Excuse my brother, Your Grace. He's been bedridden most of his life and has only recently recovered."
The old man's gaze lingered on Arawn, but he ignored it. Instead, he looked around, examining the room. It wasn't large, but the five of them fit in easily. There was a circular table in the middle with a lot of papers and a high-backed chair behind it.
"I'm glad to hear he's feeling better now," the lord finally said, returning his gaze to Corwal. "What is your purpose for coming here?"
"We're just passing through, Your Grace. We've got family in Gren and were traveling there now that my brother is feeling better. After a night in one of the inns, we'll be leaving."
That wasn't the story they had agreed on, but Corwal said it without missing a beat. It was probably because of changed circumstances, but which ones? What was the turning point? Arawn really wished that he had more of that so-called common sense and could understand what was happening instead of only being able to tag along after others.
"You seem like a trained fighter; you're not just a commoner."
Corwal sighed. "Your Grace is all-seeing. I'm part of Scarlet Treason mercenaries. I've taken a couple weeks' leave to escort my brothers to our main branch of the family."
"That is unfortunate. I was hoping I could hire you. Are you sure you wouldn't wish to join me? I could offer you a high rank, noble status, and a lot of other things if you agreed to lead and train my soldiers."
"It is an honor, but…"
A long discussion followed after that, which consisted of the lord trying to entice Corwal to stay, and the latter refusing it on the basis of his mercenary group which wouldn't let it go. After that, the lord focused on Arawn, saying that he could use someone as talented as him with ether, even if it would take some time to train him.
This idea was also shut down by Corwal. He beseeched the lord to let go of this idea since his brother was still weak and unfit for servitude. Maybe a couple years later, once his health really got better, but not right then.
Arawn listened to all of it in admiration. Corwal was lying like it was something he'd been born to do. His expression adapted to what he needed, never once failing, and his words flowed without stopping.
By the end, even he was almost convinced that he'd lived a sheltered life in a small village, unable to get out of bed, and he was the one who knew the best how untrue that was!
The lord released them only when it was already dark. His expression was kindly, but there was an air of desolation around him. His smile and well-wishes were genuine though, and they made Arawn feel guilty. Lying was common and natural, but… had it been necessary?
Once they were at an inn, Corwal dropped to his bed face first and didn't move for a while. Eliot dragged Arawn downstairs to buy some food, and he was faced with another bustling scene. None of the patrons paid them any attention, too busy gossiping about the attack earlier.
They spoke about how it had been a Mairyan merchant, and how it wasn't the first time that something like that had happened. In Gren, a similar situation had happened in the middle of the city. The word on the streets said that there were fifty casualties and over a hundred people injured. There were even a couple buildings destroyed.
In hushed tones, which were as loud as normal speech for most people, some speculated if it was a secretive way to test out their soldiers. If so, didn't it meant that Mairya was planning to start a war?
Others called it nonsense, since the two countries had been at peace for many years. Yet they didn't have any explanation for why so many Mairyan nobles and merchants were lately turning into beasts and creating havoc in their land. The curse wasn't limited to any one people, so why only them? And only when they came to Ayersbert?
"Let them come!" one man already in his cups shouted out. "We'll kill those dogs and see how they dare send more of those beasts into our land!"
The innkeeper brought the food at that moment, and Eliot picked up two plates while Arawn took his own. They went upstairs while the drunk man continued his tirade on how he was going to make Mairya pay for its disgusting actions. How could they have killed his dear son, the boy who'd just entered adulthood and put on his armor for the first time?
When they returned to the room, Corwal was already asleep. Eliot still chose to wake him up and told him to eat because they hadn't stopped for lunch that day. Corwal grumbled, but didn't refuse the warm soup and potatoes with beef.
They ate in silence, swallowing everything with gusto. It had really been a long day.
Upon finishing and lying back on his bed, Corwal stared at the ceiling for a moment. "Now you know what a true beast is like. They're the only creatures that shouldn't exist in this world."
"But aren't they just normal humans?" Arawn asked from the table. "Cursed, but still humans?"
"No. The moment they turn, they lose all sense of self and only wish to kill. They're even worse than animals, for they kill simply for the pleasure of it."
It sounded logical, but Arawn couldn't remove the image of the merchant on his knees, begging the guards to let him inside. There had been desperation and worry in the man's voice, and he'd kept mentioning his family. If he had been given a chance, allowed inside, could the transformation have been averted?
'What does it matter now. He killed, and so did I to stop him.'
The longer Arawn spent outside, the more he came to understand how naive his view of it had been. What perfect world? What paradise? They were all in his imagination. People mocked and belittled one another, stole and abandoned, and even killed without care.
There were laws, but they had nothing to do with right and wrong. The guards could easily destroy a man's life by refusing him entry on the point that they didn't like him, and a person could turn into a beast for no fault of their own. Killing them would then become a deed admired by all.
And all the men that died in the process? No one cared about them. The lord hadn't mentioned a word about Arawn killing at least three of his people by sending the creature at them. It was an accident, but it did happen.
Was the fact that it was for greater good enough to exempt him from the crime? What then if next time he sacrificed a thousand people to save ten thousand? Would that be all right too?
When sun rose to welcome a new day, Arawn was still sitting at the table, counting the grooves in it. Unfortunately, they didn't hold the answer he wanted so desperately.