The next day Boro spent the morning sleeping off the drink from the night. When he woke, mid-morning, he readied himself for his second meeting with Lord Jetir. His time at the Golden Goose last night had kept him from thinking too hard about the Lords offer but now he thought it through. He held much animosity to the King for what he had done to Boro's family. He had often day dreamed of confronting the King when he was a child, challenging him to a duel for the throne and killing him and restoring his families name. But as he grew older those dreams he recognized for what they were, the foolish dreams of a young, angry boy. Now this man had offered him a path to making that dream a reality. Would he really pass it up?
Boro spent his time waiting for the summons thinking this through, viewing the issue from every angle. In the end, when the knock at his door came and the guard entered announcing the summons, he still had not made his mind either way.
While he and the guard made their way to the Lords sitting chamber, Boro continued mulling it over.
On one hand, he had a chance for revenge, justice and possibly returning the honor to his family name; On the other, death, exile, and pain lie in that path as well. Not to mention the countless lives that would be lost with a rebellion. This was too much for Boro, he was still too young to have such important decisions placed on him. Would Lord Jetir even be willing to hear no from Boro. When he thought about it, it would be easy for Jetir to make Boro a permanent guest at Helfa Manor, wether he would be sleeping in a bed or cell would be another matter altogether, or Lord Jetir might even just have him killed. The likelihood of him allowing Boro to leave Helfa with the knowledge that he is plotting rebellion against the king was slim to none.
Whatever Boro decided, he knew his life would be changed forever today. The only choices, in reality, left to him where to join this rebellion, live as a prisoner for the reminder of his life or to die. Naturally Boro did not like being forced in to making a choice between any of these decisions, or any decision forced upon him for that matter.
When Boro entered in to the sitting chambers, Lord Jetir was standing with his back to the door, staring out of the large stained glass window. He unclasped his hands and, still looking out the window, waved Boro to sit.
"I know that it has only been a day, and that this is a great request I make of you Master Boro, however it is necessary." Lord Jetir, spoke softly, but that did nothing to alleviate the weight of his words. "Your father was a great man Boro, and where he still of this world, I know he would see the right of these actions we dare undertake."
"Many do not know this, but we, your father, the King and myself, grew up together, along with several others as well, most who did not make it to this age." The lords voice sounded distant now, as if he were in a far off place in his memory. "We left the small city we were birthed to, a pitiful city, filled with vileness and corruption, we hoped to make a name for ourselves, hoped to end the injustices faced by the common folk."
Lord Jetir had hinted at a familiarity with Boro's father but he had never suspected that they all had grown up together. Although later when Boro thought it over, it made perfect sense. A king needed loyal men to uphold the law across the land and maintain peace. Finding such trustworthy people was no easy feat. Greed had a way of darkening the human heart and as such many rulers had been brought down by the people that they trusted most. So it was only natural that the King would bestow land and wealth to those he grew up with. For who was more worthy of trust then the people who had stood with you from the beginning?
"Galave and Bora, where the best of us. They stood at the pinnacle of skill and honor. When we had finally perfected our skills and amassed the strength, we challenged the tyrant King Wendin who's family had ruled over the land for generations." Lord Jetir finally turned to face Boro. "When we finally smashed down the gates to the capital and stormed his castle nearly twenty years had passed since we left that small city and many of our friends had died along the way."
"The loss, and the power we had attained, had changed each of us, for some of those that remained it had changed them for the worse. But Bora and Galave stood firm, they held to the ideals we set out with. When the time came for us to choose the new king, naturally they were our two greatest chances at true peace and fairness. Neither wanted the throne for himself, thinking the other was the best choice. In the end we had chosen Galave, at Bora's insistence. And for a while things were as we had wanted. We routed out the evil that had plagued the lands and brought about peace... But it was short lived."
While Lord Jetir had been telling this story to him, Boro could not help but imagine his father and his friends as young men, warring and attempting to make the world better. Boro could not help but compare himself to these men. They sought to bring peace and unity to their home, and what had he himself sought? He realized his own selfishness in that moment. He thought back to those six men he killed, six lives he had taken because they sought to rob him. Six deaths that could have been prevented had those men not had to turn to banditry to keep their families fed. Even now the Kings tax men take more then they should from the people. If those commoners could not afford to pay, then they had to surrender the tax through other means, such as livestock, grain, or other goods, leaving countless families to starve, or turn to less scrupulous means for survival. From the beginning, all Boro had ever cared about was becoming the best with a blade. He had thought no more of people then as tools to hone his skills upon.
Suddenly the choice before him was easy. His goal to be the greatest could still be achieved with out training from Tutija, he could always attempt to seek tutoring from him at a later date, his referral missive had no date of expiry, it did not even have Boro's own name on it.
Anyone could defeat, or kill, Boro and take the letter for themselves. It was the Academy's way of ensuring only the strongest was raised to Blade Master.
While Boro silently made his decision, he continued to listen to the tale spun by the Lord of Helfa.
"A few years after Galave had taken the throne and peace had spread throughout Galaos, Galave decided that all of Korone should be cleansed of the greed and corruption that had once plagued Galaos. So once again our armies had been mustered and sent off to war." Lord Jetir paused for a moment and then sat down in his own chair.
Lord Jetir was nearly seventy years old, and thought he still looked to be in his physical prime, in this moment Boro saw the weakness of his age.
Jetir, before sitting had held the back of his chair, and slowly lowered himself in to it, a flash of pain crossing his face for just an instant before he continued. "It went like that for many more years, us conquering in the name of peace and the light. Millions of lives lost for this idea of absolute peace. But the peace never came, only war after war, endlessly. I could not stomach it anymore, so when Galave launched his twelfth invasion, I refused to muster my men, as a result, King Galave took my title as Grand Magistrate and banished me back to the small city where we were born, Helfa."
Shock permeated Boro's mind at hearing that last bit of information. Helfa! Helfa was Bora's place of birth.
"I see the shock on your face, i guess your father never had a chance to tell you of this place himself. He stayed loyal to Galave till the end, fighting every war, campaigning while the King sat on his throne and grew fat off of food and power. I hesitate to say this, for one should not talk ill of the dead, but Boro... Everything that has come to pass is our fault, everyone who stood by and allowed Galave to continue to rule and war, we are to blame. This is even more so true for myself, and for your father too Boro."