A Choice

The dying sunset was a bloody stripe across the horizon, a wound that bled upwards into the blackness of the darkening sky. Gathering clouds began to drip large tears, distant thunder the great sobs of the gods for a dying world.

The gentle storm quickly transformed from a weeping mother to an enraged beast, gales of wind like the howling of wolves and rain pelting down like claws of ice. That ice sunk beneath the skin and into the bones.

The Zyrial stood in the storm, buffeted on every side but not moved. He felt the cold, but not the discomfort that should have accompanied it. He knew the physical sensation of the cold, without comprehending the pain.

The last vestiges of day retreated, replaced by thick clouds that blanketed the heavens. The only illumination came from angry flashes of lightning, bringing the horrific scene of destruction into clear visibility for a brief moment before blackness again swallowed the land.

The Zyrial began his march forward, noting the wind that tugged against his clothing and the rain that pelted his face with disinterest. His destination lay ahead of him, through the storm.

This was a fitting night for the end of the world.

*

Elisi had been fifteen years old when her parents sold her to the King. They were destitute, and with five other children to care for, they hadn’t had any other options. Families that gave children to the service of greater Faushi were rewarded handsomely.

Initially, Elisi had been bitter, but no longer. Not because she had forgiven her parents; rather, the capacity to feel bitter had been removed from her, along with any inclinations towards love, compassion, joy, sadness, or anger. Since her Stripping at age sixteen, these base, carnal emotions no longer motivated her. As with all Zyrial, she was driven by three things only: duty, devotion, and loyalty to Faushi as a whole, and her Province Lord in specific.

Tonight, she was in charge of the Lord’s guard. None were Zyrial. At any moment, they could be swayed by fear, lust, or pain. As the only one immune to torture, bribery, and threats, it was her ultimate duty to maintain the vigil of the guard and lead them to act in the best interest of the Lord and the people.

A storm raged outside, much harsher than the typical storms for the season. It seemed the winter winds were blowing early. This made it unlikely that any threat would come tonight, as traveling through the storm would be nearly impossible for anyone except a highly skilled and dedicated Zyrial, all of whom were loyal to Faushi and thus would never attack a Lord. It seemed the other guards sensed this, sinking sunk into comfortable positions, laughing and joking amongst each other.

Elisi remained alert, scanning the darkness from the shelter of the high watch tower. Frequent lightning strikes illuminated the land in ghostly light before blinking out. The moments in between flashes left the area surrounding the castle walls in complete darkness, as if the land had never really existed.

It was in one of the bursts of white light that Elisi caught sight of the dark figure standing beneath the enormous pear tree outside the gates. When the next strike lit the ground, the figure had vanished.

“Sound the alarm!” she bellowed. “Invader!”

*

The Zyrial approached the walls as a horn blared somewhere above him, signaling that he had been spotted.

He moved swiftly, climbing the wall with deft fingers and thickly muscled arms. The wet stone made the task more difficult, but his training did not fail him. He reached the top and pulled his body over. He remained in a low crouch, listening and watching. Guards to the left, not looking his direction. Time to climb down the other side.

His task firmly in mind, he made the treacherous descent, then crossed the wide open courtyard to the palace.

Tonight, Lord Akine would die. The Zyrial’s Lord, Lord Ezere, would rise in the wake of chaos that followed.

He approached a group of guards at the doors, all standing with long spears held ready, postures tense. The poor, sodden fools were only doing their jobs. They stood no chance against a Zyrial. In fact, they probably hadn’t even seen him yet. He could kill them in seconds, before they knew he was there.

He stood still for a moment, watching. The Stripping had rid him of carnal emotions, purging him of impure or irrational motivations like lust, embarrassment, or pity. However, it did not remove his sense of morality or innate understanding of ‘right’ and ‘wrong’. While he could kill these men without the accompanying guilt, he still knew it was an immoral and unjust act.

That was the purpose of the Stripping. Long ago, the King of Faushi had determined that the nation needed a group of people that was willing to obey unquestioningly to maintain peace and order. The King had seen that people were incapable of acting against their own self-interest. They were too motivated by greed, love, and guilt, and would act in ways to avoid uncomfortable emotions at the expense of all else. So the Zyrial could not feel guilt, even knowing that they committed heinous acts at times.

Still, the Zyrial did not kill the guards. He knocked them unconscious and shoved open the wide double doors.

He was met by a small woman wearing a black jacket, the crest of the Zyrial emblazoned across the front.

*

The Zyrial was good, very good. Better than Elisi. He was taller, stronger, and clearly had extensive training with his dagger. She dodged and struck, trying to get inside of his reach, but it was nearly impossible. The dagger was small, and his arm moved with the speed of a striking viper. He lunged for her and she instinctively began to dodge, realizing a split second too late that the move had been a feint.

The dagger sunk into her stomach. She felt the pain, but not the accompanying panic or shock. She could see the blood spurting out around the blade, could comprehend that it was a fatal blow. No fear or despair accompanied that knowledge.

*

The Zyrial stepped back and watched his enemy slowly look up to meet his gaze. Blood pooled out around her wound, though the flow was staunched somewhat by the blade, which she held in place.

“Why?” she asked calmly. “Why attack a Province Lord? Your duty is to Faushi, and this will cause discord and disaster.”

He studied her. He had no qualms against answering a simple question, and she was dying anways. “My Lord seeks the betterment of Faushi. He sees that it has grown weak. He needed to undermine the current structure, and the simplest way to do that was disposing of Province Lord Akine. He is the staunchest supporter of the throne, and the most influential on the council. Without him, the current structure collapses. My Lord controls much of the trade throughout provinces, and this control puts him in a good position to seize power.”

The young woman frowned slightly. “But-but so many will die. You are betraying your people and your nation.”

He shrugged. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. It is a matter of perspective. My first loyalty is to my Lord. I swore my oaths before him.”

She shook her head, but the motion was weak. Her skin was growing pale and clammy. “But it is not right.”

He cocked his head. “Right? What reason have I to seek what it ‘right’? You know very well that I receive no emotional or physical reward for it.” Interesting, how she should bring up the very subject he had been pondering only moments before.

“That does not matter,” she said, voice still calm. “You have been stripped of emotion, but not morality or agency. You still have a choice here.”

“Why would I choose to go against my own interests and motivations?” he asked, genuinely interested in her answer.

“Because you know it is right,” she whispered. Her eyes rolled up in her head, and she began to fall forward.

On instinct, he caught her and lowered her limp body gently to the floor.

*

Elisi woke up in a room with sky blue walls, lying on a mattress that was far too cushy. A wave of shock ran over her. Not at her surroundings, but at the fact that she had woken up. She had thought-known-that she was going to die. And she wasn’t naive enough to assume this was heaven. If it was heaven, her abdomen wouldn’t be burning like the devil’s fires. She noted the pain the same way she would note a new freckle.

How was she alive? Her eyes widened. What of Province Lord Akine? Had the Zyrial found him? She leapt to her feet, feeling but ignoring the lance of fire that shot through her stomach. She was at the door in three strides, throwing it open and bursting out.

A young serving girl holding a pitcher of water jumped as Elisi emerged, nearly dropping the glass vessel.

“Zyrial,” the girl stammered, “I-I was just coming to bring you refreshment-”

“Where is the Lord?” Elisi demanded, cutting her off. The girl-she couldn’t have been older than fourteen-looked confused.

“Lord Akine? He is in conference with his counselors, Zyrial. Something very strange has happened-”

Elisi didn’t wait for more. She was already running for the stairs.

*

Lord Akine looked up sharply as Elisi entered, his eyes flashing with annoyance. The expression softened as he saw her.

“Zyrial Elisi,” he said. “You are awake.”

“What is happening?” she asked briskly. “Are you well? Were you attacked? Where is the other Zyrial?”

The Lord looked baffled. “Other Zyrial? Attack? I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Why is this conference being held? Are you in danger?”

He held up a hand to silence her. “Peace, Zyrial. We are in no danger. Please, sit.”

Elisi frowned, trying to make sense of the situation.

“We are here to discuss a troubling matter,” Arkine said. “Two nights ago, while you were still unconscious, Province Lord Ezere was murdered by one of his own Zyrial.”

Elisi sucked in an involuntary breath. Such an act of treason was unheard of.

“The Zyrial dragged his Lord out into the public square and denounced him as an instigator and insurrectionist who was seeking to overthrow the peace and order of Faushi. He beheaded Lord Ezere in front of over a thousand people. Then, according to reports, he called out, ‘And now I must punish another traitor’, and stabbed himself through the chest.”

Elisi felt her tension bleed away, replaced by calm comprehension. The Zyrial hadn’t gone through with his plan to kill her Lord. Instead, he had fulfilled his ultimate duty to Faushi.

It was more than that though. In his act of defiance, the Zyrial had proven something important. He had shown that people were capable of acting against their best interests, in favor of what was right. The Stripping was meant to create someone who would only be motivated by external loyalty and duty, but even that system had proven flawed. In the end, the world had been saved because someone had not been willing to commit a heinous act of injustice, despite his own personal motivations. He, apparently, hadn’t been willing to live with his decision.

“He saved us,” she whispered.

“Zyrial?” Arkine asked. “Do you have something to say?”

She shook her head. Maybe someday, she could explain. Then, maybe, she could end the ritual that stole children from their homes and turned them into slaves. She could no longer feel outrage for her own situation. That ability had been unjustly taken from her. And now, she knew that she could do something about it. Not for herself, but because it was right.