"So, you're suggesting that the circumstances, in accordance with a given perspective, are what determine whether someone is good, and not whether that person has caused physical, mental, or emotional harm to someone else?" Volzuk asked, lifting the muscles that would have been his eyebrow.
I need to get away from this topic before I say something I'm going to regret, Athar thought as he struggled to keep his words from leaking out.
Athar paused again, choosing his words once more. "I'm only trying to say that the circumstances of one's environment shouldn't delineate whether someone is a bad person, rather how they handled them in accordance with their own beliefs and morals, great one," he said, shrugging his shoulders.
Volzuk's skinless brows furrowed slightly in response. "But if the beliefs and morals of a person don't match your own, can you then make the determination that this person is, in fact, bad? What, or rather who, gave you the authority to be my judge and executioner because I exerted my free will or think differently? How does that make you any different from…" Volzuk paused, cutting himself off and turning away rapidly.
Oh shit. Too late for that, Athar thought, trying to hide his panicked expression.
Volzuk disguised a heavy sigh with a roll of his shoulders, the tendons of the fetid body clearly tensed as they pulled at the once-muscular frame. "Do not share any portion of what was said here with anyone else, Athar," Volzuk said, not bothering to look at him now. "You're smarter than you appear, but unfortunately, you still have a lot to learn about life; no thanks to your master," he said, glancing back over his shoulder, as a menacing, violet gaze stared angrily back at the young man.
"O-of course, great one!" Athar quickly bowed in reply, feeling the nervous sweat beading off the tip of his nose. "Lord Volzuk," Gavar called out from one of the many entrances to the courtyard. "What is it, Gavar?" Volzuk asked, turning to face the lord of the Ironplume clan with his hands still clasped behind his back. "The Masked One requests your presence in the alteration chamber, my lord," Gavar said with a bow.
I'm saved! Athar cheered internally
"Very well, then. Athar, go and fetch Irun, as I sense he will also be needed, but do not forget what I said earlier," Volzuk said, his tone hiding the malice he had just shown. "Great one, I do not know where to find him here," Athar replied with a slight skittishness in his tone. Volzuk paused for a moment, then flicked his eyes back to the young man. "He's in the training room practicing a new move, I see," the Undergod said with little interest. "I will find him, and heed your words, great one," Athar said, bowing even lower than the hegraphene as he left the courtyard.
I wonder what kind of new move he's working on, he thought has e proceeded down one of the gloomy halls.
While nearly identical to Valdis in structure, the color of the light that filled the large, metallic halls was much the same as the outsides; with its sickly green seeping through numerous cracks and seams in the walls. Athar could hear the sounds of clashing swords and grunts of exertion resounding from where he figured must be his final destination. Peering through the crack in the door to the vast training room, he saw Irun conducting a set of slashes and thrusts against what he saw to be a hegraphene.
Irun dashed under a slash aimed for his throat as the blade cut through the few strands of hair that lingered behind. With a forceful grunt, he swung the training sword at the creature's waist who, in turn, was forced to leap over it. Adeptly landing on its feet, it dashed directly backwards, turning to face its opponent in mid air and using the rotation of its swing to increase the power of its blow.
Irun was barely able to get his sword up in time to block it, and as a result, was sent skidding across the floor across the room. "It would seem we're almost evenly matched now, Irun, but we must stop here," the hegraphene glanced in the direction of where Athar had been hiding. Her glowing, violet eyes peered across the training hall like a hawk's as she was sheathing a sword made of the same material her scales were onto the back of her slim, yet athletic figure.
It looks a lot like Gavar, just without the horns and a much smaller plume, Athar noted now that the fight had calmed down.
"You're still so fast, I can hardly keep up, but having trained here for… gods, how many cycles has it been?" Irun began, but paused to try and find an answer to his question. "Nearly one-thousand cycles," the hegraphene answered, her voice far more melodic than it should have been. "I know that's almost a year in the Between, but how long do you think it actually has been down here? Ten years? Twenty? Hard to tell, what with the lack of aging and all," Irun noted, observing both his human and daemonic arms.
"I wouldn't know, but I'd imagine it doesn't really matter right now. We've been summoned," Athar interjected, coming out from behind the door he was using as concealment to watch them. "Athar! It feels like it's been forever since I've seen you!" Irun said in a much more cheery tone than even Athar expected.
"I… yeah, it's good to see you too, Irun, but we don't have time to exchange stories right now. We're supposed to meet with Lord Volzuk and the Masked One," he replied, gesturing towards the door.
"Ah, I see. Well, thank you for the training session, Commander Kaila," Irun said with a bow, which Kaila returned promptly. "Of course. It has been my pleasure to instruct you. May your blade purge your enemies, and cast down those who mean you harm," she said, a hint of a smile cracking the chitinous exterior of her face.
"Any ideas what this is all about?" Irun asked, still wiping the sweat from his brow. Athar shook his head in response. "I think they might try for another expedition, but that's my best guess, and arguably not my best," he replied. "What makes you think that?" Irun asked.
"It's just the way things have been lately. The Masked One and Lord Volzuk hardly speak to one another, while Lord Gavar has been training those augmentees non-stop since he got the all-clear from the Masked One. Since then, I've found myself often being put into challenging conversations with the Undergod, but for what reason, I do not know," Athar replied, his tone carried an air of both curiosity and mental exhaustion.
"Well, if it's of any consolation, I've been getting my ass kicked by Lady Kaila unendingly for however long it's been since we got here. Ever since that first meeting with Lord Volzuk, she's taken me under her wing to annoying lengths after my dismissal from the great hall," Irun said, rubbing his shoulder.
"You said ten or twenty years, right? Odd how it only feels like it's been a few months for me," Athar noted, as Irun shrugged in response. "I think it has to do with whatever you're doing while you're here. Maybe each kind of action has a certain time-law that the Underworld abides by?" Irun asked.
Athar could neither agree nor disagree with the statement, as the proof was already in front of them. "Gods, that explains why they count everything in cycles here, but cycles of what exactly?" he asked.
This line of thinking is going to hurt my head, isn't it? He asked himself, sighing deeply.