Rise of the Living Forge - Chapters 249-250 (Patreon)

When Arwin and Lillia emerged from the kitchen and into the common room, they found the rest of the Menagerie waiting for them. The only one missing was Esmerelda, who technically wasn’t even part of the guild and had just been hanging around — and Arwin suspected that was more to argue with Madiv than it was for work purposes.

“Is this an intervention?” Arwin asked, squinting at the solemn expressions of gathered members of his guild. “Because I feel remarkably unnerved. Nobody important died, right?”

“Someone died, but they weren’t important,” Rodrick said. Anna elbowed him in the side and he coughed. “Sorry.”

“It’s not an intervention,” Anna said, pulling her eyes away from Rodrick and letting out a small sigh. “But… well, there’s no easy way to say this. Rodrick and I were speaking last night, and—”

“You were doing a lot more than speaking,” Olive said, glancing at the other woman out of the corners of eyes. “Lillia should really consider making slightly thicker walls.”

Rodrick started to grin before he caught Anna’s expression and hurriedly coughed into his fist to conceal his expression. Anna squinted at the one-armed warrior, who reddened.

“Not the right time?”

“The walls suggestion might be a good one,” Anna grumbled. “And you are completely ruining the atmosphere I am attempting to create here.”

 Olive gave Anna a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”

“I was going to speak to a mason today anyway, so I’ll keep note of the request. Having thicker walls would probably be a good idea all around,” Lillia said with a thoughtful nod. “I wouldn’t want people dissatisfied because they can hear too much from the other rooms.”

“Hey, maybe some people like to listen,” Reya said. “You never know. You could charge extra for it.”

“Godspit, I give up,” Anna said, flinging her hands up and running them through her hair with a defeated groan. “I don’t know what I was hoping for with you lot of idiots.”

“But the good news is we know what you were hoping for,” Olive said. “Also, you and Rodrick have a lot of stamina. It’s really quite impressive—”

“I am not above hitting you over the head.” Anna pointed her staff at Olive. “Don’t try me. It’s not real bodily harm if you can still walk afterward.”

“I’m not so sure that’s how the healer’s code is meant to work,” Madiv said.

“Are you a healer?” Anna asked.

“No.”

“Then you don’t decide the healer’s code.”

“Noted,” Madiv said. “I will locate a copy of the code and study it properly to ensure further misunderstandings do not occur.”

“I — oh, Godspit,” Anna exclaimed. She thunked the bottom of her staff against the wood at her feet to draw their attention. “Rodrick and I have been lying to all of you about who we are.”

Silence swept over the room.

“So Rodrick isn’t a fallen paladin?” Reya asked hesitantly.

Anna opened her mouth. Then she closed it again. Her eye twitched. “No, he is.”

“Your names aren’t Rodrick and Anna?” Olive asked.

“No, they are,” Rodrick said.

“The next person who talks gets a staff to the head,” Anna snapped, glaring at all of them. “I should have been more specific. I’m the one that hasn’t been entirely honest. I’ve been trying to hide from that truth for a long time, but I don’t think it’s right for me to keep it to myself any longer. Not when there’s a chance of my actions affecting the guild as a whole.”

“Anna, whoever you may have been, I don’t think any of us are going to hold it against you,” Arwin said gently. He sent a pointed glance at Lillia. “Especially not me and Lillia. What matters is the person you are now.”

Anna gave him a small smile. “I suspected you would say that, but you haven’t even heard me out yet, so I won’t hold you to those words.”

“Honey, just get it out already,” Rodrick said softly. “If you don’t, I’m going to. And if I do, I’ll probably bungle it.”

Anna’s nose scrunched and she let out a sigh. “Before I met Rodrick, I was a member of the Secret Eye.”

Of everything Anna could have said, that wasn’t what Arwin had been expecting — nor did it seem anywhere near as big of a problem as he’d been prepared for her to reveal. He’d fully thought she was about to reveal that her pastime hobby had been kicking small animals.

“Whoa,” Reya said. She blinked, then frowned. “That’s… cool, I think? I mean, the Secret Eye are kind of pricks for almost covering up that Dungeon Break, but I don’t really hate them. Am I supposed to hate them?”

“They’re mostly impartial, but there are multiple branches to any large organization,” Rodrick said with a grimace. “Anna, hon, I know you’re trying to be gentle about this, but it really isn’t working. Just get to the point and stop confusing everyone.”

“Fine. I was one of their Inquisitors,” Anna said.

They all stared at her.

“I… don’t know what that is,” Lillia said sheepishly.

“Nor do I,” Arwin said. “I’m afraid you might have to explain a little more.”

Rodrick put a hand on Anna’s head before she could say anything more. “The Secret Eye are meant to be impartial, but a lot of the time, that doesn’t end up being the case. There are so many different agendas in the kingdom. So many different guilds that want something — and a lot of people that aren’t happy with how they or their guilds get ranked. The Inquisitors were a group of people within the Secret Eye that handle all of that.”

“We were assassins,” Anna said, her gaze falling to the ground. “Of a sort, at least.”

“How is that possible?” Olive asked. “I mean you no disrespect, but unless you’ve been intentionally avoiding using your skills, you’re no assassin.”

“Because I wasn’t that kind of assassin,” Anna said. She swallowed before continuing. “Generally, anyone who would have an issue with the Secret Eye was someone strong enough that they couldn’t just disappear. It would cause too much of a stir. Our purpose was to ensure that didn’t happen, so we couldn’t just go and kill our targets.”

Olive’s eyes went wide and she drew in a sharp breath of realization. “I heard rumors of this, but I thought they were just superstitious idiots. You went after your target’s friends and loved ones instead of them.”

“We couldn’t kill the bull. The kingdom needed it alive — so we made a leash.” Regret soaked Anna’s words and it was a moment before she spoke again. “Most of the time, the mere threat was enough. Most of the time.”

Arwin’s stomach tightened. He didn’t want to ask the question at the front of his mind, but he couldn’t keep himself from it. “Who did you kill? How many?”

“With my own hand? Not many. I made poisons, and those were usually enough. Not every target had to die… but some did, and it was my fault. I don’t know how many. I wasn’t privy to the full extent of what my work was used for,” Anna admitted, her voice taut. “But I occasionally heard word of what had happened to people. I could recognize the signs of my own work. I — I’m responsible for a lot of terrible things. Deaths. Disfigurements. Broken families. All because of my work.”

“Why?” Lillia asked. “Why would you do something like that?”

“The reason doesn’t matter,” Anna said with a shake of her head. “I was willing to sacrifice others for my own sake because I wasn’t the one driving the dagger into their hearts with my own hands. I convinced myself it didn’t matter because someone else would have done it if I didn’t — but the fact of the matter was, I did it. Nobody forced me to. It was my choice.”

“She was sick,” Rodrick said.

Anna glared at him. “Rodrick, be quiet. They—”

“Should know the entire story,” Rodrick said flatly. “I’m not justifying Anna’s actions, but she’s only telling you half the truth.”

“I don’t want to influence—”

“They’re not children, Anna,” Rodrick snapped, pounding a fist against the counter to silence any argument. “Everyone here can make their own decisions, but they deserve to know everything. That was what we agreed on.”

Anna’s shoulders slumped and she inclined her head. “Fine.”

“As I’ve said before, I was once a Paladin in the Adventurer’s Guild,” Rodrick said, running a hand through his hair nervously. “My immediate superior and his wife recognized a pattern in the sicknesses of family members of high-ranking people throughout the kingdom, and we’d heard rumors that they were working from within the Secret Eye. When he reported it to the upper members of the guild, nobody acted. He pushed, insisting that we couldn’t let someone terrorize the kingdom — and he was silenced.”

“Someone killed him?” Reya asked, her eyes widening.

“Yes,” Rodrick replied. He started to pace back and forth across the room, wringing his hands together as he spoke. “His death was ruled an accident, but I know it wasn’t. And I knew I would be next if I or his wife tried to bring up what happened. So I went off on my own. I abandoned my post in the guild and used my connections to sneak into the Secret Eye. Over the course of years, I worked my way up its ranks. I’d always been good at sniffing out information, but they made me great. I made friends. I sucked up to my superiors. They had absolutely no idea. But I got cocky. They found me sniffing around where I wasn’t meant to be. I fought back — but not everyone in the Secret Eye was evil. Most of them weren’t. They were just following orders, and I killed an innocent man and betrayed my oaths. My powers shattered and I was captured. They had me dragged to the dungeons to figure out what my motives were — but I wasn’t easy to break. They needed someone to keep me alive while they questioned me.”

“That was where I met Rodrick,” Anna said, averting her gaze from everyone. “The dungeons. They brought me in to keep him alive while they tortured him.”

“Would have died if she hadn’t been there,” Rodrick said. “She did more than heal me. She spoke to me when the other Inquisitors left. She told them it was because she was searching for more information, but she was really just keeping me sane. Turns out, she was sick. Dying from a poison that her mother had ingested before she was born, and that had been eating away at her from childhood. She needed money to buy supplies.”

“Money that I couldn’t earn through normal jobs,” Anna said. “I needed more money than I could have ever hoped to make. The poison was incredibly potent and spread throughout my entire body. Other healers couldn’t remove it, but I could temporarily neutralize it through my own poisons. The Secret Eye heard of my talents and picked me up. They gave me the materials I needed to make poison, but that is no excuse for what I did. I sacrificed my morals and the lives of others to try and buy my own.”

Rodrick nodded and his pacing drew to a halt as he let out a slow breath. “Anna told me all of this when I was imprisoned. I realized that she was the person I set out to kill, and that she was trapped there as much as I was. She was a child when the Secret Eye took her in, and I couldn’t fault a child that had nobody for trying to survive.”

“But he could certainly try to convince me to be better,” Anna muttered, a tiny smile flickering across her lips before it fell away. She sniffled and wiped her face with the back of a sleeve before continuing. “Rodrick spent every second we had telling me about himself and his superior. About what the value of a life was. He did all of that after refusing to give up his real identity. If he had, they might have gone after his superior’s wife as well to remove any loose ends.”

Arwin swallowed. It felt like a lead ball had caught in his throat. If he’d been in Anna’s shoes, he would have liked to say that he’d done differently, but he honestly couldn’t know for sure. His thoughts were a mess. “How did you escape?”

Rodrick smiled. “Anna saved me. Broke me out after one of the Inquisitor’s sessions. We both ran for it. None of them ever expected her to betray them, so it was almost easy. Then we ran. Been at it ever since.”

“How is Anna alive, then?” Reya asked. “She’s dying, isn’t she?”

A bitter smile pulled across Anna’s lips. “Turns out, I’d cured myself of the poison a long time ago. The leader of the Inquisitors was keeping me sick. He must have been adding poisons to my meals and water. I never found out what, but shortly after Rodrick and I escaped, I found that the poison had purged itself from my body. Years of being the vehicle of death… and it was for nothing. I wasn’t even saving myself. I’m just a murderer that was scared of dying.”

“Until someone showed you better,” Rodrick said firmly. “You never had anyone to show you a different path. You chose to save me even though you believed doing so would result in your own death.”

“That does not change what I have done.”

“No,” Rodrick said, inclining his head. He picked a mug up from the counter and stared into it for several seconds. “It does not. There is more to it, but we felt that we couldn’t keep this from all of you any longer. This isn’t the situation that Arwin and Lillia were in. They had no choice. I’m sorry we didn’t reveal this earlier. We should have said it some time ago, but it has been so long since I’ve seen Anna enjoying herself like this that I insisted we keep it to ourselves.”

“But you didn’t do anything wrong beyond defending yourself,” Olive said. “You lost your paladin class because you killed someone innocent, but it was a mistake. We can’t hold that against you.”

“You may believe that, but it doesn’t matter. I travel with Anna,” Rodrick said with a soft smile. He set the mug in his hands back down and crossed his arms behind his back. “And if you want us to leave, then we will do so immediately. Don’t worry — neither of us will ever reveal the truth about the Menagerie. I’m very good at keeping things to myself.”

And, with that, every eye in the room turned toward Arwin.

Chapter 250

Arwin couldn’t bring himself to say something on the spot. Any words that may have been prepared to slip from between his lips would have been ones that hadn’t had time to properly mull over the gravity of the story that Rodrick and Anna had just told them.

Nobody said a word for several long seconds. Tension and unease weighed down on the room like anchors on every single one of their backs. There was a part of Arwin that wanted to dismiss the story outright — to say that he didn’t care who Rodrick and Anna had once been. To say that the only thing that mattered was who they were now.

That part of him was wrong. He and Lillia knew more than anyone that they couldn’t dismiss their past. They couldn’t just pretend it didn’t exist. It would have been wrong, not just to the people that had fallen at their hand, but to themselves. Ignoring a problem did not make it go away. It would have been a disservice to Anna.

But what a problem this was. A child had every right to live — but did they have the right to kill? Arwin wasn’t so sure he knew the answer. He wasn’t so sure there was an answer. Anna had known what she was doing, but she’d been manipulated into doing it, at least to a degree.  

Anna might have done wrong in the past, but you can’t right wrong with more wrong. It’s evident that she regrets her past and wants to right those wrongs. How hypocritical would I be if I told her to leave? She may not have the same past as Lillia and I, but she wants the same future.

As Arwin opened his mouth to try and say something to split the thickening air, he found that someone else beat him to the punch. It was Madiv who finally broke the silence.

“It is the basest desire of any being to live,” Madiv said. “It is more than a desire. It is a right. A right that Anna both indulged in and took from others. When a predator kills its prey, has it done wrong?”

“That isn’t the same thing,” Anna said, her hands clenched and her voice stiff. “I am not asking you to cover for me. We didn’t tell you this to get pity. I am—”

“Awaiting judgement. You requested our thoughts, but you do not want to hear them,” Madiv said sharply. His tone carried the weight of a mountain, spoken like they had been barked from the mouth of an old, grizzled commander rather than the prim and proper vampire.

Arwin’s eyes widened slightly. For a moment, he caught a glimpse of the warrior that Madiv had once been.

“I think I know what Madiv is saying,” Olive said softly. “And he’s not justifying your actions, Anna. It was a genuine question. And the answer is yes. You can’t fault a killer for killing, but a killer can’t fault you for defending yourself. I’m just not entirely sure that applies to humans.”

“Humans are so arrogant.” Madiv’s lips pulled back in a smirk. “They all believe they are greater than animals. You are smarter than animals — though that statement applies to only a small portion of your species. But intelligence does not separate you from life. It simply makes it harder to understand. There is a difference between a killer that kills because it loves to kill and one that kills because it must live.”

“I didn’t have to kill, though!” Anna exclaimed, pounding a fist into the counter beside her as her eyes prickled with tears. “Don’t you understand? I chose to kill. I didn’t want to die, so I let myself become a weapon. I’m a healer. Not—”

“You are wrong.” Madiv’s words carved through Anna’s like a knife. Her back stiffened and she froze in place. The vampire took a step forward and thrust a finger in her direction. “You may not wish to be a killer, but your story says otherwise. You are a killer, Anna. And it is not just you. I am a killer. Arwin is a killer. Lillia is a killer. Reya and Olive are killers. Rodrick is a killer. We are all killers. You come to us seeking absolution in our judgement, but we cannot give it to you.”

“Why not?” Anna’s voice broke and she swallowed, trying and failing to find words as her arms trembled at her sides. Her hands tightened into fists and she wiped at her face with a sleeve again before repeating, her voice so soft that Arwin could barely hear it, “Why not?”

“Because the dead are dead,” Madiv replied simply. “And nothing will ever change that. Even if every single one of us announced that the blood split with your aid meant nothing, it would change nothing. They are still dead. Your guilt makes you seek answers, but answers are not a solution. You are looking in the wrong place. There is only one person in this room that can give you the answer you need to hear, and it is not any of us.”

“I’m not just looking for validation! I’m warning—”

“You are not,” Madiv barked. “Look around you. Does a single face in this room hold fear? Do you see anyone reaching for their weapons? Any emotion in their eyes but care and concern? The one you must seek counsel from is yourself. No other can forgive you.”

“But the people who are dead because of me…”

“Are dead,” Madiv said firmly. “And you may seek their forgiveness when you pass into the next world. My personal suggestion would be to meet them along with the lives of everyone you have saved in the wake of their passing, but do as you wish.”

Anna’s gaze traced across the room, but Madiv was right. There was a wide variety of emotions playing across the Menagerie’s faces, but not a single person was looking at Anna with any less trust than they had before.

Arwin wouldn’t have gone so far as to say that they forgave her for what she’d done. Madiv was right — it wasn’t their place to forgive her. They hadn’t been involved, and it wasn’t like any of them were without history of their own.

“Madiv has been doing the talking for all of us, but he’s said what I would have liked to better than I could have managed it,” Arwin said. “I have an understanding of how you feel, Anna.”

“I… our situations aren’t the same,” Anna said. “You didn’t know.”

“I didn’t,” Arwin agreed. “And perhaps that absolves me to some degree. But it was still my blade. It was still my lack of desire to look deeper into the truth. There were people around me who figured out there was more to the war than I believed, but they did not think I could be trusted with that knowledge. They may have been right. I do not know. I never will — but I can’t make up the damage I did through regret. I will not be asking you to leave the Menagerie. If you decide to do that on your own, I will not stop you.”

“Nor will I,” Lillia added. “It would solve nothing, and it’s pretty evident you didn’t want to do what you did. There are people with justifiable grudges against you, but it I don’t think its anyone in this room. And I think it goes without saying that I can’t find fault in anything Rodrick did. Good people die in conflict. Sometimes it comes down to your life or theirs, and only an idiot would blame you for choosing yours.”

“If you ask me, I don’t even think it’s fair to blame a child for the entirety of their actions,” Olive said, setting her jaw. “You were being kept there, and it’s easy to lose sight of the greater picture when there’s something you really desire right in front of you. The Inquisitors took advantage of you. I’m not going to blame the victim — and the fact that you think you’re anything but a victim just proves that you were. How old were you when you joined the Inquisitors?”

Anna didn’t respond instantly. She swallowed and managed to find her words, but her voice faltered as she spoke. “Nine.”

 “Nine,” Olive repeated. “Reya, what were you doing when you were nine?”

Reya tilted her head to the side for a moment. “It depends what part of that year we’re talking about. I think I lived alone for the most part, but I recall being part of a gang for a little while. I didn’t last long. They wanted me to help them stick someone, but I stuck one of them on accident.”

“Okay, forgot you’ve got a whole lot more shit than you let on. Maybe you weren’t the best example of this,” Olive muttered. She glanced at Arwin, then over to Lillia. Her eye twitched. “Godspit. Every single one of you is messed in the head. I forgot.”

Anna, midway through a sniffle, snorted. She doubled over in a coughing fit as she choked and Rodrick clapped her on the back, an appreciative look flickering over his features before he wiped it clean. Anna kept her face buried in her sleeve as she coughed. She managed to gather herself and tried to wipe the moisture from her features.  

“I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break down like this.” Anna’s voice was muffled behind her hands. “This wasn’t how I wanted to broach this. It just all came back so fast.”

“We killed a few assholes,” Rodrick put in helpfully as he rubbed Anna’s back. “They had it coming, for the record. Anna’s not in shape to say it, but I am. Thank you. We’ve come to love it here. If there’s any future for us, we’d like to find it among you all.”

“I think there are worse places to try and make up for past mistakes from,” Arwin said gently. “I can’t absolve anyone from their history, but I think the only steps anyone can take toward righting past mistakes is making a better tomorrow.”

The rest of the Menagerie all nodded. The tenson in the air faded as Anna tried and failed to muffle her tears. Everyone did their absolute best to pretend they couldn’t hear it. Words were only that. Words. They couldn’t truly fix anything, but it was all any of them could offer — and hopefully, they would be enough.

They were all silent for several seconds.

Then Reya cleared her throat.

“Not to infringe on the moment — I completely agree with everything Arwin said, by the way — but who exactly did you guys kill?”

“Ah,” Rodrick said. “That would have been a few Falling Blades. Melissa headed out to get her Milten estate back and we decided to go give her a little help. She won, by the way.”

“She did? Wait. How did you know the assassins came for her?” Arwin asked, blinking in surprise. “When did that even happen?”

“I… may have slightly underplayed the extent of my information gathering network.”

“Network? I thought you were just talking to people,” Arwin said, looking from Anna to Rodrick. “In the spirit of being open with each other, care to elaborate?”

Rodrick winced. Then he let out a sigh. “This might take a while.”

“Then it’s a good thing you aren’t going anywhere,” Lillia said.

Anna let out a weak laugh and finally managed to pull her head from within her sleeves, her eyes slightly bloodshot and the tip of her nose tinged red. “Thank you. All of you. I need some time to think, but I’ll give you all a proper response later. I promise. And Rodrick, talk fast. Who knows how long Esmerelda is going to keep Wallace busy.”

“You left Wallace with Esmerelda?” Arwin asked.

“One catastrophe at a time, please,” Rodrick said. “I’m sure Esmerelda will be fine. It’s Wallace’s ears I’m more worried about. Now, do you want to hear my bit or not?”

Arwin cleared his throat and gestured for Rodrick to continue. “Please.”

Several seconds passed as Rodrick gathered his thoughts. The warrior interlaced his fingers before him and let out a slow slight.

“I may have underplayed the extent of my abilities,” Rodrick said, letting a second of silence drag on before he continued. “Nobody is better at subterfuge and infiltration than the Secret Eye. They could get information from everything ranging from a fish to a man.”

“Torture?” Reya asked in a fearful whisper.

“Is a tool mostly reserved to the Inquisitors,” Rodrick said, his lips pressing thin in distaste. “And a tool that I am more familiar with than I would like. But far more than that. They had a rather extensive library containing all of their techniques and history. Hundreds of years of strategy, much of it buried within books pages that nobody has bothered taking a glance at in years. And I — well, I had a lot of free time. I read every single one of them.”