There has always been something about humanity that does not sit right with me. People often tell me — fear is humanity's oldest and strongest emotion.
Some can debate it as sorrow, others rage, yet fear still preserves its title. However, I don't believe any of this to be true. Before the concept of fear existed, compassion prevailed.
What reason could one possibly have to fear with compassion? There were numbers, comfort, and most importantly, joy.
Joy is like an addiction — once you lose it, you fear the worst. This cycle continues to repeat itself until your soul leaves your body, and your body is planted in the earth.
This is human instinct. Those who say they do not desire compassion or familiarity are simply liars, and those who truly don't desire it are worse than monsters. These humans are the worst among all living beings.
They go against their natural instinct, deteriorating what it truly means to be human. They lie against the idea of their humanity. Against you, their friends, their families... Themselves. But what do they achieve for deceiving not you, but their brains?
I cannot answer that, for it is specific. However, what I can say is that — morality conveys the message of your humanity more than flesh and blood.
Now, let us focus on Simon.
Although he was in Nabû-Zēr's mind, he was currently not viewing it from his perspective. Or rather, his brain couldn't comprehend everything he was seeing, only tiny bits of scattered information.
Most of this was useless, as it was only his everyday life.
"Nabû-Had, Jeanne is next," Nicholas said.
The ill man glanced at Nicholas with a confused look. It was almost as if these words weren't meant for him.
"Hm? Thy son's lady shall see the future too?"
"Yes, although from a vastly different perspective."
"And how may this come to fruition?"
"I'm afraid I cannot say for now. Telling one too many people alters the future in ways you cannot comprehend. If your ancestors hadn't claimed this land without consulting mine, it's plausible the world would've soon ended."
(I see. So he knows I'm here, but refuses to say anything because it may alter my future. But wouldn't my fate already be altered because of how much I've used my signature?)
Just as Simon heard this, a sharp pain entered the right side of his head. It was as if someone were spinning a sword back and forth in his brain. He closed his eyes, trying to deal with the pain, only to be met by an image of a decagon.
However, this decagon was not in this country. From earlier knowledge, this decagon was placed in another country. It was a nation that terrorized what would now be known as France in the modern day.
France was Jeanne's home country, but why was this here? According to Nabû-Zēr's memories, only the Crest family had the power for such rituals at the time. He could only think that this was planted by them.
The fragments of the future he foresaw came to a close after this. This only served to put him into more distress. The minute he became aware of his surroundings again, he retreated from Nicholas.
Nabû-Zēr forced himself to move his hands, however weak they were. Pain seeped through his limbs, and fear through his mind.
"What? What hast thou done?"
"...Nothing, Zēr."
"D-do not use such a title to the prince! Get away from me!"
Whatever Nabû-Zēr had seen, it made him afraid of Nicholas. He shivered in cowardice, tears falling down his face.
"Nabû-Zēr, what hast thou seen?"
"Father... This man, this man! He wishes to bring horror upon our land!"
"You wish to spread lies upon his name?! He only wishes to help us!"
"Father, thou dost not understand. This is only temporary!"
"How so?"
"His wishes are to-"
"My wishes are to help as much as I can, as of right now. I hope you can understand Nabû-Had. I'm a businessman. I don't intend any harm to your country, but that doesn't mean I can neglect others."
Nabû-Zēr was still in shock, unable to deny this claim. As for his father, he only nodded his head in understanding.
"Yes, the Crest magic must not be used for selfishness. Thou hast come to an understanding, your family helps everyone for a price."
"Thank you for your understanding, Nabû-Had," Nicholas smiled and clasped his hands.
Nabû-Zēr had no way to object to this claim. Even still, Nicholas only told the truth. In what he had seen, it was exactly as he claimed. He tried to make Nabû-Had listen, but he refused.
Even if another country did wage war against Babylon right now, they would not be victorious. It was just another sign of his immaturity. When he became king, perhaps he would understand the importance of this triviality.
Nicholas took one more look at the room before preparing to walk out. The door swung open, Nabû-Zēr still processing what he had just seen.
On the other side of the door, a woman reached out, trying to find the handle. Her eyes were cloudy, her hair short and layered. She wore a rather regal looking rose-dress, staring blindly ahead of her.
In her search for the handle, she had touched Nicholas's hand. She swiftly pulled hers back, stepping aside.
"Oh, sire, thou art terribly sorry for this discretion."
"It's okay, little lady. You meant no harm."
Nothing else was said between the two before he began to leave. After Nicholas was out of the room, the woman walked in and gracefully shut the door behind her.
She followed the sound of Nabû-Zēr's quivering breathing, kneeling next to him.
"Is something the matter, my love?"
"Jeanne. Thank the gods."
Nabû-Zēr clung to her as if his life depended on it. Perhaps a little too tight, as Jeanne softly hissed at his sharp grip. Still, she did not say anything about it.
Nabû-Had looked at the two in disgust. Jeanne was blind, so he did not attempt to hide it in the slightest. He wanted her to leave the room immediately, but did not do so, seeing his son in need of her comfort.
Only after he settled did he mouth, "Get out."