"In which I learn much and know little" -Den
The day was bright when Den awoke; Fia was already awake, arms crossed, looking out the window to the distance. For minutes he drifted in and out of sleep; there was no urgent need for his waking, and so he rose slowly, fading in and out of blackness. Finally he did sit up, and for a while longer sat in silence, same as the Elf opposite him.
He did venture glances at her; once, twice, then a third, until at last he built up the courage to speak: "Uh… Fia?"
She looked at him.
"Erm, what do you think about what Jaskell said? Phemelius clearly agrees, and Dreg, but you didn't say much of anything last night. Could Night—uhh, Moon Elves really be people?"
Fia shrugged. "Don't see why not."
"Oh, okay." Dreg did say that she and Phemelius were 'aligned'. Den smiled sheepishly. "Suppose this is what you meant by 'as many people as possible,' and all that stuff with the spiderweb and whatever. Jaskell's got connections with some N—uh, Moon Elves, and we're, uh, we're stuck with him, so we've gotta care about them, too."
Looking out the window, jaw clenched off to one side, Fia nodded slowly.
"But… are we sure they're not corrupted? I mean, I can believe 'people,' but what if dark magics really have turned them evil? Or, um, some of them, maybe."
Fia tapped her face's pointed chin with one finger. "Hmm…" she said. She raised the finger aloft and smiled at Den. "Well, if they really were corrupted, to just be kill-crazy, to hate all humans, or their… 'sods' were, at least, they'd probably have done a better job of killing you."
"…Oh. Hah! Oh yeah, right, killing both of us, and those kids as well! You're right, Fia, and I, uhh… wow, I really screwed things up there, didn't I?"
Fia leaned forward in her seat. "Did Filly give you that quote Phem likes?" Den nodded. "Give it here," she said, and Den found the paper under his tabard, and passed it to her. She scanned it once, closely, and said: "...bring lives to ruination… for the lies that form him… seems to me like Heroes get corrupted by lies, more than 'evil magic'."
So it was about me. "Yes, I see. And of course Phem's always known this about Jaskell, and you did, and Dreg as well. It's difficult, though, I—don't tell Jaskell I've said this, but… I guess it was easy for me to believe that Moon Elves weren't people. That they were 'twisted'. Because they're, um, so ugly."
Fia smiled widely. "…Oh, yes of course, you're so right! They do look kind of weird, don't they? Those ones back in Signestad? Their green skin, weird hair, and everything."
"Yes, exactly!" said Den. "Strange looking; maybe 'ugly' is a little over-… but no, they aren't quite beautiful, not really. Not that it should matter; Dreg's not much to look at, and he's a fine person, hell, I am far from some picture of fairness…"
"You're right, Den, we shouldn't let…" Fia frowned. "But no, it is about beauty, isn't it? True beauty, proper… hey Den, what's the best nose width for a beautiful person to have?" She put her pink-gloved middle and index finger around the sides of the pointy Sun-Elven nose on her face; they did not need to stretch wide at all to pinch its thin little tip. "This, yeah? This is a beautiful nose, yes? This? This here?"
Den waved his hands in dismay. "Yes of course! What's gotten into you? Yes, Fia, you have a fine nose; I'd say it looks fine."
She took the fingers away from her face. "Thanks," she said. "I put a lot of work into my appearance, is all. But this isn't about what one man thinks is 'fine,' this is about True Beauty. Hold on." Fia scrounged about the paneling of their carriage until she produced a quill and ink. She flipped Den's paper over and set to sketching on it, for a minute; Den peered over, trying to see what she was drawing there, through her scribbling fingers. She held the paper up, and on it there were nine pictures, three-by-three in a square: In the first row there were three disembodied heads of Hair: one long, straight white, one wavy, black and short, and one thickly curly and brown just past ear-height; in the second row there were three Noses: one very wide, and rounded-flat, one that jutted out at the bridge, then beaked down drooping to a rounded point, and one very short and thin, and pointed perky; and in the last row, three Chins: one thin and pointed, a wider, oval one, and one that squared, heavy and rounded at a wide jaw and wider cheekbones. She said to him: "Which one of each is most Beautiful, and which is least? Mark them each with numbers… and don't just lie to flatter me. I want the facts—the sheer, objective truth."
Den took the paper, quill, and ink, and mulled over the three sets of features; it wasn't really that hard to pick the Beautiful ones. And there wasn't any need to lie. In time he held it up, and there, his rankings were: straight white locks are better than curly, and both over wavy black; A little pointed nose above a hooked one, and both more beautiful than a wide-nostrilled round one; a thin, pointy chin over an oval one, and square the last.
Fia crossed her arms. "Why, Den, I told you not to lie for flattery's sake. Those are all my face's features you've ranked first!"
Den's face flushed, angrily, defensively he stammered: "I'm not—this is just the honest truth! I don't mean to lie, or… I don't mean anything by it! That just is beauty, truthfully… you do have a beautiful face, and I'd rather say so honestly than pretend otherwise to avoid embarrassment!"
"Oh, okay." She looked between Den and the paper, and curled up her thin bottom lip. "But look here, Den, this rounded chin, these messy brownish curls, this big beak-nose… these are your features, and you've put them second! Such humility indeed…" She grinned.
"I—I never made any claim to handsomeness! This is the cold truth also." Den considered himself quite a homely man; average at best. His nose especially; he didn't see any reason at all to lie about that. If Phemelius could be humble, so certainly could Den: he was just a man, a plain one.
"Oh, alright, I believe you," said Fia. "Many would say the same, so there it is: my face is pretty, and yours is middling, one with all these third features would be ugly. Still, it's funny how this works out, huh? I mean, you humans are at War with Moon Elves, and you're… err, you were adoring allies of the Sun Elves. Your enemies are ugly, and your, uh… friends, more beautiful than you."
"Yes, it's an unfortunate coincidence, that's just what I was saying. Probably part of the cause for all this strife between our peoples. I'll try my best not to let their ugliness make me see the Moon Elves as 'monsters' anymore." He nodded to himself. "…You know, Fia, Phem showed me an Earth Elf outside of Adrovia, and I found many mentions of them in the histories. There was even tell of Sea Elves; it seems the Sun Elves won another great War with creatures by that name many years before we Humans even came. I didn't know there are… or, uh, were so many types of Elves. Would they all be people also?"
"Yes, I'd think so. I haven't read anything about Sea Elves, though. Shoulda brought some'a those books along with us."
"Maybe we'll go back to Filstanek's after we deliver the Wall-Burner. Huh… even more kinds of people... so they're all in the web… and care, and trust…" He frowned at himself. "Fia… I don't mean to press too strongly, but I feel as though I know most everything about everyone in our little squad, now, even Jaskell's deepest secret… all except for you. I've seen many of your great qualities first-hand, but… your history, your life before The Mission; all are dark to me. I'm sorry for my rudeness yesterday, I was… afraid, and shouldn't have been so nasty, but… some of my hurt, I think, is because I know that you've been hiding things. It's okay if you can't tell me more right now, but, uhh… someday?"
Fia looked away, and frowned. "It is difficult. To trust. Not everyone deserves it." She flicked her eyes his way. "But you've done a lot. Before we depart from Ætsolai, Den, I'll tell you everything. On that you have my word."
Den nodded. He rarely saw Fia so grave; he felt this was… some first step past the wall that stood between them. After last night… Den knew that she'd been talking about Phemelius, and that they were both very serious about each other. Aligned, and he guessed that as Phem trusted her most—and tried his best to see things realistically—so too did Fia give him her utmost faith. And me as well, someday, he thought. I can earn their trust.
Den and the Elf-Bard sat in waking silence, and the carriage hurried on.
***
Dusk came; Den was snacking, and from ahead heard Dreg cry out: "Commander! Do we stop for sup and shuteye!?"
Phemelius' voice was clear over the horses: "No! No stopping, we ride through both nights!"
"Then we'll all need shifts asleep!" Dreg cried back. "It's your turn, Phemelius, you'll have both nights inside!"
Dreg muttered things to Jaskell; the carriage slowed, and in time Phemelius and Getta came back-tracking to address them; they all still trotting forwards at a medium pace. "I'm fine, Captain," Phem said sharply.
"Now, maybe," Dreg muttered back. "But ye'll need yer wits about you there in Ætsolai. There are times when a Commander must trust his Captain. Inside, now… you too Getta! Den and I can take the horses, while these two grinners keep ya movin'."
Phem groaned, but all the same he brought his horse alongside the carriage, and helped Den jump out of it—from the open door of a moving carriage—and into his saddle. Then Phem leapt off and inside. Fumbling, Den drove his horse ahead, where Dregal was sat atop the other. He heard muttered arguments between Fia and Getta behind them, but Dreg caught his attention, with orders barked: "WE RIDE! I won't have it said that the big oaf back there out-charges Dregal Shennistane—HYAH! Onwards, like a rushin' river! HYAH!" Dreg leaned forward and kicked his horse sharply, more than once, so the beast returned to its tireless sprint. We're so hard on these poor creatures, Den thought. Meekly he did the same; Dreg was far ahead, and the carriage catching up to him, so he kicked again, anxiously, and with time he got his own horse up to speed, bouncing, teeth clattering all the way.
He reached Dreg's side and, still rough-shaken by his horse, asked: "D-dreg… F-f-fia, she—"
"Grip with yer legs, so you move with it!" Dreg shouted. "Sheezadh, Den, you look like the officer who's only read 'bout cavalry charges. Hold firm!"
Den held firm enough. "—Fia, she was saying strange things back in there. She implied that she considers Sun Elves ugly, and humans more beautiful… or something of that sort."
Dreg looked back at the carriage and snorted. Jaskell was helping Getta drive the horses. "You think… you think that she thinks Sun Elves are ugly?" He chuckled. "Nah. But if she said anything like that, what she prob'ly meant was that theirs isn't the Only Kinda Pretty. We're all just people, remember?"
Den looked ahead. She was trying to be nice to humans. Or… was she saying that Moon Elves weren't ugly? But they were, obviously—it was no evil to be unattractive, but they were. Because… well it was just a fact! "Dreg—"
"Can it, kid, I can't stand to see you floppin' 'round like this. Focus on the Road, we'll talk when it's our turn inside." Dreg looked back at the carriage once more, and chuckled to himself. "Trust yer Captain…" he muttered, gleeful, devious grinning. Night fell, and the two horsemen charged through it, escorting their carriage-riding friends.
***
Den had slept much of the day, so that this riding all through the night was no more than he could manage. Still, as the Sun rose to his right he felt exhaustion tugging him down, and his stomach set to growling. Dreg took one look at him and said: "Yep, I'm tired too, Den. Let's have our turn; high time an Elf did some work around here…"
They slowed, as did the carriage. Alongside them, Dreg knocked the door of the carriage and then swung it open: Phem and Fia sat inside, both looking groggy. "Out, you two!" the Captain cried. "You'll have our horses, that we circauriem might have a nap!"
"Horses…" Fia groaned.
"I saw you ride one well enough in that scrum back in Nuvikolona," snapped Dregal. "And there was a revelation. Up!" Flanking Dreg behind, Den could see Jaskell grinning smartly at the Elves through the front window.
"…Fia… can help Getta drive," Phem muttered. "Jaskell and I will lead. Hop in, Dreg."
The switch was made: Fia to the front, Jaskell and Phem to the horses, Dreg and Den inside. No sooner had the Captain found a seat before he was peacefully snoring. Den found himself another snack first, and some water. In time, he too settled into the seat-cushion and drifted off.
He awoke, again, to the full heat of summer daylight. He looked around, and all was much the same: Dreg still fast asleep and they moving rapidly up the Road. At the front, one switch had been made: Jaskell was back to the front seat, so Fia would be on a horse ahead. He considered waking the Captain for that conversation he'd postponed, but thought better: Dregal had been quite cranky when they'd got in here, joke or no, and so it would be best to let him sleep long as he might. He reached over the hulking little man to the cargo door and found a cloth-wrapped meat pie, one meant to be portable: like a loaf of bread was it shaped, with meat, gravy and spices in the center. He ate, and thought, and waited.
Dreg began to shudder and mutter in his sleep, and jerk, and groan angrily. Then his eyes popped open and he shouted "NAY!" and sat upright. He saw Den (who was licking the last bits of gravy off his fingertips) and the rest of waking reality around him, and shrunk sheepishly, muttering: "...vishin' nightmares, I…" and rubbing his hands. He reached back into the cargo area of the carriage, withdrew a pigskin flask, and drew hefty gulps of water, smacked his lips. "So, Den, err, what'dja wanna talk 'bout? Moon Elves or whatever?"
"Oh, I don't know! I, I got to thinking about The Mission, and the end of the War, and, um, how strange it is…"
"Aye," said Dreg. The old soldier spread his fingers and stared at them. His thick fingers, whose knuckles were even thicker for how many times they'd broken and healed askew. "I've been wonderin' too. 'Peace is good,' I say, and I stand by it, but maybe peace isn't so good for old Dregal. I'm a… a tool with about one use, way's I see it. Peace for me's a big yawnin' blackness, and what'll I do then? And all that sorta soldier self-pityin' stuff, like everyone whines about…"
Den hadn't even considered that. In truth, he'd mostly admired Dreg, even envied him. One skill was better than none, and 'none' was about as many as Den Sorman thought he had. "Oh, well, you learned to be a soldier, right? Took a while, but if you can—and I'm sure you learned plenty else too, in the years since—I'm sure you can learn, uh, whatever else afterwards. With us together, right?"
Dreg smiled. He shed a tear.
Den smiled warmly back. "...But that's not even what I meant, it's like… we've been fighting to end The War. To win it. But now I'm not even… well, I'm not even sure that's good. Of course I want the killing to end, but…. I don't know, I'd rather not kill to do it. I've never actually, um, killed anyone before, with all you braver sorts around me. But even without that, it's like… do we really need to kill more Moon Elves? To be violent at all? Dreg!"
"Yeah?"
"Do we have to actually use the Wall-Burner? I mean, Phemelius said that it was well-named, and to me that says it can actually burn walls. Even stone walls?"
"Yup, believe so. That's how Phem told it, anyway."
"Yeah… I was thinking back to Signestad. And some of the people there were, well, they seemed a little mean. I'm not talking about 'betraying the Sun Elves,' or whatever, I get they're all just people, but like… all the Moon Elves they had in cages? The kids? I think I'm right not to really like some of them, even if they are just people, based on what they were doing."
Dreg said nothing to this, nothing but one slow nod.
"…and if there's a weapon that could burn the whole fortress down to ash, maybe a Moon Elf would wanna use it, to win the War for their side, or just to get their licks in. And, y'know, maybe they'd have a reasonable case for it, seeing as their people are getting slaughtered, and caged like cattle and whatever else. (I think one of those Lords mentioned 'using' them for mining…) But I saw so many other people in Signestad's keep; servants and their kids, ladies, and lost little soldiers just trying to make ends meet. And in the Moon Elves' own forts, or camps or caves or… whatever, they probably have plain regular people too. So maybe a weapon like that shouldn't be used… but maybe it wouldn't have to! Y'think just the scare of it maybe getting used would be enough to get them readier to solve things in a peaceful way? Like, uh, diplomatically? A treaty between our people and theirs?"
"Huh. Den… would you oppose the use of the Wall-Burner? Even if the Sun Elf King ordered it so, or hell, even Phem? Would you fight to stop them using it?"
"I, uhh… yeah. I think so. It seems like too many regular people would get hurt by it. And regular people aren't always perfect either, believe me, I know. But… yeah. I'm no great fighter, but I'd do what I can to stop it. Stop the whole War, I mean, with nobody else getting hurt."
"Well, Den. There just might be some hope for us humans yet." Dreg smiled and clapped Den on the shoulder.
We don't have to kill anyone! Den thought, pleased. I don't know how this whole War started—I should check the tomes again, when we get back to Adrovia—but one of the Moon Elves must've made a dumb mistake… or, hell, one of the Sun Elves, or even us humans! And then they got hit back, and returned the favor again, over and over, an endless cycle of petty stupidity. That's what people do: make a mistake, and get sore at each other… because nobody trusts anybody! And it IS a Gray world, so that makes sense. There isn't really any fixed point at all, not even Sun Elves.
Den sat up in his seat. THAT'S what Jaskell meant! I admired the Sun Elves like they weren't even people… that's why they looked down on me! Why they look down on all humans… our stupidity! And Phem said 'Nothing more, and nothing less than people,' he didn't just want me to see Sun Elves realistically—as people—but Moon Elves too! We're ALL 'just people'… and people are foolish very often. I was the biggest fool of all! But there's no room for hate, no cause: all we have to do is show everyone how Moon Elves are really just people, and we can all set things right—together! The King has the power to set things right, and Phem, too; he can convince him. And Jaskell knows some Moon Elves—there's a connection. We can reach out both ways and pull the bonds back together. And if the Moon Elves won't listen—for regular old People reasons of pettiness and fear—we have the Wall-Burner, and Sun Elves on our side, so they'll have to listen. Like I had to listen when I was foolish. They're all no different from me!
"Well, Sorman, you look sunnier than usual. Peace sounds pretty good, eh?"
"Oh, peace, yes of course! It's unbelievable… Jaskell is the one who showed me what I needed to see."
"Hah! Ohh, don't tell him that. Already thinks he's 'got all the facts,' that knobhead…"
Den grinned. "Yeah, maybe not. Maybe when I meet his Moon Elf friends, I'll tell how he called them 'Darks'. But you, Dreg, I don't know how I ever doubted you! You're the kindest man I've ever met! There was a time before this Mission—shit, it feels like a distant nightmare, now—there was a time when kind men felt like a rare thing."
Dreg shook his head. "They are, Den. Rare, certainly."
"But, oh, I don't think I ever doubted, not really. Not like I did our friend up there. Even when you told me about your Vishiesad religion—"
"Vishezadhu."
"Oh, Vishezadhu, sorry. Even when you told me about that—and all I'd ever heard of it was 'heresy,' so what else would I believe?—even then, the way you talked about it, it just felt… right! Or good, at least, like it fit you. Good like you."
"That's, uh, it's just about expressin' yourself right, I spose. The way Jaskell up there argues, all steamin' and smug and 'yer such an idiot tool,' had to figure out some way to get back at 'im… and really, he is right about a lot a'things, that's the worst part. Mostly it don't bother me, and I'm no snotty know-it-all. Dreg Shennistane knows when to shut 'is mouth, and even when to rethink 'is foolishness when it's all been laid out. One time, though… Jaskell was talkin' about my Lord (and he knows all 'bout Visheez, his parents were the same… well, Second Weekists, but… whatever) and you know what he tells me? 'Dreg, all this shit about a Lord, a big man you're spose'ta bow down to, and eat shit from, and trust no matter what he does? What kinda purpose do ya think that serves, huh?' And I told him how it's different, and how Vish really wants us t'serve each other, and love and hope and helpin' the little guys, all that stuff. And he said: 'Well, why a man then? And all the priests are men, and all the Lords that follow 'im, and the man's supposed to be The Lord of 'is House, in Vishie's image,' and so on. And 'e said that that's why human women are so miserable and brought low, that if everyone believed that, things would be a whole lot worse 'cuz we'd have less… well, less Fias, 'swhat he said."
"Shit. And what'd you say back to that?"
"Nothin'. Just gaped and stuttered, like you prob'ly would. But it stuck in my teeth, the idea. Why is it all men? I thought. Sure, Vish's got a Holy Momma, too, but she's not… well, she doesn't quite got the power he's got, and he was right that all His priests are menfolk, and our whole damn world's build around 'men up and women down'. I started seein' things like Jaskell does, and it was…"
"…Gray?"
"Yeah. Yeah! But it didn't feel right at all. I had to find a way through the Gray, a way to keep on livin'. Vish or no! I thought. And I asked Fia about it, asked Fia herself. She's wise, y'know, and the whole women thing concerns 'er personally, of course. I asked her: 'Hey, Jaskell said my religion's a sham, and worst of all does wrong by womenfolk. What if that damned rot-smile's right, and there ain't no room for strong women like you in my whole religion, my bedrock, the thing that keeps me trying?' And y'know what she said?"
"…What?"
Dreg's eyes twinkled. "She said: 'Well, then make room.' 'Make room,' just like that. And if my faith's got no room for doin' good to women, then it's no good, so I gotta either lose it fast or change it. And I don't think I can lose it, bein' honest. There was a time I tried…" His face went distant, for a moment, eyes glassy. "—but no. Can't lose it. So now I keep my beliefs adaptin', keep my bond with Vish buildin', so that I can love Him and everyone else the same. Maybe can't lose Him, but I definitely can't lose sight a' people, neither. That's Fia's web, right, an' the bigger the better."
"But what about, um, if it really is a sham? What about the facts… shouldn't those come before beliefs?"
Dreg wagged his finger. "Been listenin' to the worst side of Jaskell too much. He's wizened me up, but Dreg and everyone else sure been wizenin' him up too. Like a buncha stones we are, all polishin' one another smoother. He might have a nose for facts… a desire, a strong feelin' 'bout 'em, if ya will… but he's got his beliefs too." Dreg grinned. "Yep, he's just another person. 'Nother tool, heh, 'nother faithful tool!"
"Jaskell has another religion? Not EmoleleiorVishezadhu?"
"Ask 'im yerself!" Dreg hopped up and climbed around Den to the front, opened the window, and tapped Jaskell on the shoulder. "Hey Ashrubar! Den wants to know about yer religion!" He winked back at Den, and then shoved Jaskell inside as he went out to join Getta.
***
Jaskell plopped down in the seat, saw the waterflask Dreg had left there, took a few big throat-swelling gulps, and wiped the spillage from his chin. "It's not a religion," he said bitterly. He took another swig, and reached back, grabbing bread and cheese.
"...Well, what then?" Den asked. "What do you believe in? Besides being a knob."
"I—" Jaskell glared. "…I could hear everything that rumbling little pisspot was saying," he said. He took a bite and swallowed quickly. "…and he's right. I used to think that I had all the facts, and everyone else was just some dumb believer, full'a hate and bullshit. But yeah, I, um, I believe in something too. It's not a religion, though, not a god! It's a framework—very scholarly—The Truth of The World! Of all the earth and sea and heavens!"
Jaskell arched his back forwards and gestured with his hands as he spoke: "There's only three kinds of things in all existence: People, Tools, and Obstacles. People, that's easy to understand, 'cause you're one, and so's everyone else: hateful and stupid and funny and kindly and greedy and crazy and sad and petty and frightened, and wonderful. Tools: that's anything that isn't people, but helps people. Food, sunlight, water, all that. We can make 'em, too: ax is a tool, but so's a book, or a sword, or a field full'a wheat. Even an idea in your head can be a tool. And an obstacle, that's anything that doesn't help: things that kill people, or prevent 'em from gettin' what they need, or keep's em separated n'hateful. And things can be both: a river can drown you, but you can drink from it, too. Point is, tools and obstacles are both things that aren't people."
"But what about gods?" Den said. "You're right, this really isn't a religion at all. It doesn't even fit… gods aren't exactly people, but they aren't just things, either."
Jaskell grinned. "Well, beliefs can be tools as well, and people are real good at making those," he said, like that answered the question. "And obstacles, for that matter. Uh, like I said: things can be both."
"But anyway," he continued. "That's not the lot of it. There are also three types of people. One I like to call the Shitter, and he (or she, but it's mostly guys) really only sees himself as a person. His goal's to make as many people as possible into his tools—that they serve him, while he does as little as possible in return—and the people that won't, the ones that actually stand up for themselves or try to get away, they're his 'obstacles'. Especially other Shitters; they make everything into a competition between each other, always back-and-forth, fighting and maneuvering and seeing who can plop out the tastiest Shit. That's the Shitter, and he's a nasty sort. Ends up as an obstacle for everyone else—by choice, mind you. Nobody's born a Shitter, way I see it."
"Then," said Jaskell. "There's the ones I call Shit-Eaters. You might have a good perspective on this kind of person, Den. Truth is there's enough Shitters who really are getting what they want, by lies or blade or the clever use of coin—probably all three, for the Big Shitters—and each of them's got a fuckin' army of their tool-people runnin' around, delighted to be serving for nothing in return, or who just don't have the facts to break free of bein' bent, or even enough power. Or kindness… it's like Phem always says, they have less. But they can still be pretty nasty, because they only see their Big Shit, and fellow Shit-Eaters-of-Their-Shitter as people, and everyone else as 'obstacles'. They call 'em whatever the Shitter tells 'em to: monsters, or enemies, or terrorists, or barbarians… whatever. All means the same thing. 'That person's actually not a person, so go bend him to my will! Kill him if he won't submit!' And the Shit-Eaters all obey: 'yes Sir, of course Sir, anything you say!' They end up believin' in simple things like unchangin', blood-set Good and Evil, 'cuz that's better'n hearin' you're a tool. But maybe I…" He frowned, eyes down. "Den, I'm sorry. I've been too cruel to you. You change a Shit-Eater with facts, and a bit of patience. It's good to treat them kindly as you can, since they won't listen otherwise, and they're more lost than really shitty. Depends, I guess: they may be part of the problem, but they're not The Problem."
"I see," said Den. And he did. Jaskell didn't hate him, exactly. He was angry at what Den believed about Moon Elves: that he saw them as monsters instead of people, and was willing to kill for it; for a cruel falsehood. And Den knew he wasn't the only person who saw things that way. He began to understand why Jaskell seemed so enraged, and even crazy all the time. It must've felt like the whole world had gone mad, with how often people made stupid mistakes, and got other people hurt for no good reason. "What about the third type of people?"
"Oh, that's Us. The People-Who-Take-No-Shit. We're stuck with the knowledge that all people are people, so we can't even see Shitters as truly 'Evil,' even though they get pretty close. But it's not like… they don't have evil in their blood, just on their mind. They get something from it, the Shitters, and it's something they'll NEVER be full of. We No-Shitters are the worst off, because both the Shitters and their Shit-Eaters, all of them, are all our obstacles… or their beliefs are, their choices, whatever. But we have a secret weapon: we aren't just tools, we're People. We care about each other… about all people, 'specially if they can give the care same back. Really care, not just a pyramid holding up some Big Shitter and all his little Shit-Eating soldiers, more like a strong knot… a web, like th… like Fia says. As long as we can spread facts, and find decent people to build with—with, not on top of—we can be strong. Stronger, Together." Jaskell crossed his arms and sat back, satisfied.
Den thought this over. It didn't sound too bad; made some sense in a Gray world. It sounded like… like a Brown Religion, for realists who knew the world was Gray. A little crass, a little un-glorious, but good. Like the common, low, but steady soil beneath your feet. Or a reliable haft of wood. Oh, Den giggled to himself. Brown like Shit. Fuckin' Jaskell. He thought some more, looking out the window at the passing plains, the road, the rush of horses ahead. "Wait, what about animals? They're not people, but are they really things? Just 'tools' or 'obstacles'?"
Jaskell frowned. "Yeah, that's a gray area. Plants too, in a lesser way. What I think is… well, sometimes it's easy to see an animal as an obstacle—even a monster—when it's dangerous, or just, well, In The Way. And they can definitely be tools, too: these horses have done a lot for us, and different creatures can do lots other things… and, uh, we can eat 'em. They can even seem like people sometimes, when they're friendly, or just, you know… they clearly feel things, like people do. Maybe it's like, uh: 'use 'em kindly, and be a bit wary of treatin' em exactly like people, and when they get in the way, do what you've gotta, but nothing more'. They aren't really monsters, even the big scary ones, they're just hungry. Gray area. I don't know everything…" He smirked. "Not yet. No framework is perfect, but this one's useful. Least for me."
They ate together for a while, in silence. Jaskell seemed calmer than he ever had. Then he seemed even calmer, and his eyes closed slowly. They snapped open again; he smiled, saying: "Shit. Well, whatever, I should get some sleep I guess, 'fore Dreg comes barging in to send me out."
"Thanks for telling me all this, Jaskell. I think I like your Brown Religion. It, uh, it makes a lot of sense," said Den.
"Oh, no prob—wait, my what?"
There was a knock on the front window; Jaskell groaned. Dreg opened it, and barked back: "Shift change! Phem and I are on horseback. Den, yer out here, and Corporal!" He smiled at Jaskell. "Yer good where y'are. Getta, hop inside." Den and Getta switched, then the escorting horses came, and so did Dreg and Fia.
She looked Den up and down; he'd grabbed the reins, and was doing a half decent job at rushing them along. "You and Jaskell were in there for a while, and you don't look half pissed. He give you his Shit-spiel?"
"Yeah," said Den with a grin. "He's great, isn't he?"
She shook her head. "He's exhausting. And you look all ideologied-out. Why not give me those steers, and take a nap here."
"Here?" he asked. "What if I slip off?"
"Just take that extra rope there and belt yourself in tight, you'll be fine," she said. "Whaddaya think I did out here, while you and Dreg were snoozing comfy?"
Den frowned. "Well, you could've slept last n—" He caught her glaring. What? He thought it over: she'd been in the carriage with Phem last night. Den wouldn't have even noticed it Dreg hadn't been chuckling about it, what did he say? 'Fia doesn't think Sun Elves are ugly'? …Oh. He winced.
"Yeah, very funny," she said. "Now you'd better shut up and sleep."
He did.
Den slept surprisingly well on the hard front seat of their carriage. He'd never been so tired, and all just from a day of Jaskell filling his head with 'shit'. Oh, and a very nice talk with Dreg. I'm surrounded by excellent people, he thought. I'm so lucky! And tomorrow they'd be in Ætsolai; bringing Truth to sway the Sun Elves (and soon the Humans and Moon Elves also) into peace, spending their days in the lovely Golden City, completing The Mission which they'd worked so hard and risked so much to carry out. And Fia—who everyone liked, and certainly for good reason—had promised to tell him what she believed, and all about her past, once there in the center of the Kingdom. We've nearly done it, he thought.All of us, together in every sense.There was a jutting little sliver of wall at his right that was just the perfect size for him to loll his head onto, and then he was out. Pleasant hopes soothed him, and so his sleep was long and peaceful.
***
"Just like that? Jaskell asked.
"Sure," said Getta. The Moon was full this night, and put a glow around them. "Ain't seem like beasties. One stopped tryin' t'getta-way from lockup when I was lookin'."
Getta had asked what everyone else had been talking about the night before, and Jaskell had explained how he told Den that Moon Elves were just people. "Okay, I just…" said Jaskell. "I don't know, you're a fine guy Getta, I just thought this would be harder."
"Yer sods, they sods… eh," said Getta. "They got Bigs, too?"
"Well, yes, sort of," said Jaskell. "It's not quite the same… they all choose who's going to be in charge, everyone an equal say. And they don't bother with coin, money, all that sort of thing, because then the people with the most coin would get the most say, and they'd be the Bigs."
"No coin!?" Getta was aghast. "Fuck. Moonies are stupey. But trezzhas… Den said they's got shiny pokes, silver kind, eh?"
Jaskell slapped a hand to his forehead. "No, Getta, it's not like… they don't really have gettas. They're all, um, a little bit more like the six of us: they'll steal from other people, but not each other. Because they all make sure each other's got enough."
"Oh. Not so bad maybe." Getta grinned. "Long's there's still shinies to nab!"
Jaskell shook his head, snorting. At length he smiled anew. "Well, Getta, shinies ain't the only thing worth gettin'…"
***
Den awoke to shouting in the deep black of night. He shot up and was yanked back down by the rope around his waist. Fia looked at him, and then ahead, to where Phem and Dregal were arguing loudly. Oh, phew, thought Den. Just normal insubordination.
"—late now, Dregal. If I go to sleep, I will either sleep through our entrance into Ætsolai, or be half-awake while I make my impression. At this hour, I may as well ride through the night."
"No," said Dreg. "No! You're gettin' a damn decent night'a sleep 'fore Ætsolai—I know you ain't slept much last night. We can sure's well wake you an hour early, so you can un-grog and smile at the mob!" There was an unpleasant edge to Dregal's voice, a catching moistness. It only rose, and yet he grew hoarser by the minute.
Fia stood up upon her seat, reins still in hand. "Hey!" she cried. "HEY! You two bozos are both getting inside tonight. I'm gonna grab Shit-Eater in there and take your horses, by blade if need be!"
Both looked back at Fia; Phem looked genuinely exhausted, and fighting to hide it: every few seconds his sinking head shot up. Dregal was red faced and irate.
Den called out too: "Guys, please! It's not—"
"Shut up!" Fia hissed to him. "Yeah, that's right Cranky and Lanky! Bout time you listened to your Minstrel for a change, instead'a playin' soldiers! I'll wake you with a Lute to the head if you're the last one in!" Both men hung their heads, and the horses slowed.
Den looked up at Fia, who stood smiling proud in the moonlight. An old bit of folk wisdom came to mind, one of human origin: 'Behind every great man…' He grinned. If two people were bound together, but stubbornly insisted on going in opposite directions, it took a third to resolve the disagreement, or cut the idiots loose. And Fia, as an Elf-human person, is just the perfect one to resolve this sort of thing. She understood things from both perspectives, human and Elf.But no, Den thought. Elf-human is its own perspective, and anyway, there's another: the Moon Elves. Then, for the first time in his life, Den wondered if hybrids between Moon Elves and Humans, or even Moon Elves and Sun Elves could exist, or did. But then, what would you call them? Moon-Sun Elves, Dusk-Dawn… Eclipse Elves? And what of the human-Moon Elf hybrids; Moon-Elf-Human people? That was four words! Den groaned anew. Now I'll need to start calling Fia a Sun-Elf-Human person! Just 'person,' is much easier, he thought.
He found the others already switching, and told Fia: "Hey, I can ride ahead too! I've slept plenty by now."
"Nah, you're good," she said. "You can sleep more if you wanna; Getta's good on the reins. Or not, I don't care. I need to talk to Ash."
Den had a thought, he blurted: "Jaskell's what he prefers as a name, isn't it… that's why he cares so much about what the Moon Elves call themselves! I mean, they're people, I get it, but it's… Fia, it's sort of rude of you to call him Ash like that. Maybe not a huge deal, but rude all the same. It's not what he wants to be called."
"Oh, great, nowyou're telling me to 'See Differently'. Insufferable," she said. "…but I think you're right. Fuck, fine! I'll stop calling you Denbas, if you hate it so much."
"That isn't what I—" Den tried, but she and Jaskell were already riding off.
"Don't worry," Jaskell said, looking back with a wicked grin. "I won't, Den-bas."
"Oh, fuck off Ashrubar!"
"What's'e—what're ya," said Getta, as he emerged from the carriage. "...who's Asherbar?"
Den shook his head. "Nothing, I'm just… I'm being a petty idiot. Fuck!"
"Oh. Okay. You wanna sleep or hit horses, Den?"
"Oh no, Getta, you can—wait, 'Den'? Not Denbas?"
"Phem said stop callin' Denbas. Makes you sad. Does it?"
Den gave this some serious thought. "...Yes, I suppose 'Den' is better. What about you? Still Getta?"
"Yup." Getta smiled. "Always Getta. So, sleep? Or H-O-R-S-E?"
"Oh no, it's alright Getta. You can sleep. It's about time I carried my weight around here."
"Huh? Don't gotta. Getta gotta 'nuff in the carrie. U getta 'nuff, Den?"
Den gave this some serious thought as well. His own needs. "…No, I suppose I'm still a bit tired. If it's alright with you…"
"Sleep, Den Sorman. People's gotta getta 'nuff. 'S'what Getta's all 'bout now: everbody Getta what they need." He patted Den on the shoulder with gentle, and somewhat less emaciated fingers.
Den laid his head on the little wall beside the seat. Excellent people, all! was the last thought he had before sleep found him.
***
The sky's great ball of fire rose on Ætsolai. Terrible it was, enormous and proud and blinding, bound relentlessly to consume so it might continue burning above the world entire. To the carriage-riders and their horsemen up ahead, this golden city of Emolelei's Kings, the capitol of the mighty Sun Elf Kingdom, was but a glimmering speck. Though it was growing.
Den awoke to Fia's voice, and a rapid tapping at the carriage door behind him: "Alright, sleepyheads! One hour off, just like you said Dreg! Up, and ready your false faces!"
"Food!" Dreg shouted from inside. "And splash of water, then I'll be the greatest cavalry soldier the Sun-Bright City's ever seen!" In time, Dreg had his need and the switch was made: Fia and Getta inside, Jaskell to the front with Den, and Captain and Commander back on horses at the front.
Their time to shine was closing in. Jaskell thrust food passed up by Getta into Den's fumbling hands, and quickly shouted: "Eat, Den! We're almost there, we—The Mission, we've got to be ready, you know how Phem is, he likes to make a Good Impression, and this will be a very important one, in the High City—Hah!—yes, the High City, we'll be alright, just, uh, here, have some water too, here, be ready to make an Impression, sometimes it's even scarier than the battlefield; politics, smilin' at the shitters, the vipers, but oh we'll manage it, and then soldierin' will seem easy by comparison—hurry now, eat!" He was shaking.
Den managed to force a word in edgewise: "—Jaskell! What's come over you? Here, you eat something as well, and calm down."
"Oh, I'm fine, haha, we're all fine here, but you're right, I should calm down—" He sucked a shuddering breath in and out, then another. "—yes, I've gotta be ready as well, shit, fuck Sorman I'm no braver a man than you, but then—" Jaskell stared wide-eyed at Den. He stuffed a hunk of bread into his mouth and turned to face the Road ahead.
Den turned ahead as well. They bumped along.
A crowd grew around The Road as they approached, and all its western peoples cheering and waving, hoisting the banners of the noble house of Orevictorum, shouting encouraging words in the Sun-Elven tongue. There were even some humans among the Sun Elves. Riders and carriage alike were showered in fresh flower petals and little bits of gold-painted parchment.
Jaskell still looked stiff. Den put a hand on the man's shoulder, and said: "Hey, you good? Still in there?"
Jaskell swallowed, and sighed. "Yeah, it's… I'm fine. Hell of a Mission, though. Hell of a ride."
And now we ride to Victory, Den thought. Or, at least the first steps of Peace. All the peoples will come to an understanding, and we'll be remembered as heroes, and Fia and the Prince will be wed. Then Den remembered something, and a thought bloomed from the tidbit. "Hey, uh, Jaskell?"
"What?"
"Well, um… one time Dreg said you cared about Fia more than any of us. And you are nice to her, I mean, you hardly ever make fun of her! Call her a 'shit-eater,' or whatever."
"Yeah, she's great. So?"
"Well I just… I mean, when I first met her, she made a whole big deal of telling me that she wasn't, um, interested in me. I s'pose it's 'cause she's with Phem, but, uhhh, do you, I mean, do you feel a certain way about—"
"No," Jaskell said flatly. "And not because—" Jaskell went red in the face, but then he looked at Den, snorted and smirked. "Not… because she's an Elf, or whatever. Because she's a woman."
"—Buh… m—m-men?" Den shrunk into his seat.
"Yeah, and what of it?" said Jaskell angrily. "Have I found a new way to not be a person, s'that it? What d'you think of that, Denbas, does that make sense to you?"
"N-no, it's just, umm…"
"Or is it sinful, does Emoleelee not smile upon me, cause I'm such a—" Jaskell shut his eyes, and took a deep breath. "…Whatever! Just as long as you know it's no different at all; I'm just another idiot. And that's part of why I like Fia so much, 'cause she gets that. Dreg had to fuckin' 'make room' for who I am, even Phem took a while to… whatever…"
"But then… Phem, do you, err, like…"
"Oh," said Jaskell. "Nah. Not just cause he's occupied, and with my friend, and that's the right pair, it's right, it's good… but like… I'm not his type. Damn shame though." He smirked. His smirk drooped into a frown, a sorrowful one. "No, I shouldn't joke…"
Den looked at him sidelong. "…Dreg?"
"…no, nope! I've never even seen him much look that way at a woman! Fuckin' monk's what he is. And Getta's some kinda kid, or at least it feels that way…" Jaskell sighed. "Whatever. Love's good, but that kinda love ain't what it's all about. Hassle, really." He picked at a splinter on the seat below.
"Oh, okay." Den picked up on that sorrow Jaskell gave to the topic of Phem. He probably wasn't jealous, in a bad way; both Elves were the man's close friends, who trusted him, and he was right: they made a great pair. Den was struck by a strong sense that their bond was like the backbone of the whole Mission, and not just because they were Elves, and so somehow 'above'. They were, well, kind of perfect opposites, in a way. But all the girls in Tarlast were enamored with Phem, way back when. Den figured that a man who, uh, liked men, would probably feel the same. Smirking, Den stifled the urge to make a joke about 'shit-taking,' felt guilty that the urge came. But if Jaskell did have some kind of… uh, crush on Phem, it only made sense he'd feel a sort of mourning as their Mission came to an end. With the Prince and Fia wed, any hope of romance with Phemelius would be gone forevermore. That would be bittersweet.
This was another piece of Jaskell's secret misery, and hearing it delighted Den. Not because he took joy in the man's misery (not that deepest kind, at least), but because there was joy in being bound to it, in being people together. It made Den feel more confident in sharing his own misery with Jaskell, despite it all. Den realized that at least some of Jaskell's derision towards him had been a reaction; to Den's own hateful lies.
"Jaskell?" he asked. Den's face had on it a thoughtful expression, and one not unfriendly at all.
"Yeah?"
"You do have connections of with the Moon Elves, don't you. I… I'm sorry for how I once was, to your friends. I see now that such people do not warrant my deeming them 'Monsters'… they're just soldiers like us.And you aren't just some rotten man, who hates to hate; that you were defending those you cared for from my foolish hatred."
Jaskell held Den's shoulder tightly. "Thanks, Den. I am a little rotten, though. I couldn't say where the line is, but some of what I've done to you wasn't warranted. Didn't help you See Differently. I was selfish too."
"Don't worry too much… but thank you." Den sighed a pleasant sigh. "Jaskell, do you think you could introduce me to some of those Moon Elves some day? Assuming they won't kill or fear me for how I've been, hell, what I might still be, I would like to hear more of their perspectives, from their own lips."
"Yeah," Jaskell said. "Yeah, Den. I… I believe there will be such a meeting yet." Den caught an even greater sorrow in the sagging shoulders of the man, and let it sit quietly.He sees both horrible sides of this, The War, thought Den. All the deaths of Elves and Humans, there is much for him to mourn. Yet soon it will all be over. Hope of Peace gave Den resolve.