"And, pray tell me, would you care if I killed one man to save all others? It will not end that way." Dei was looking down on the chained prisoner.
"You... why would you hate us for fighting for freedom?” Deron had been pleading for his men's lives for the better of an hour, but to no avail.
"Because one of you took my only freedom in this wretched world."
“Your son? Why do you hate your son? Your own blood?!”
“He took my wife from me!”
"He took your wife?! You killed her for praying for lost souls! For common people!"
"What lies! What brilliant lies he has flooded you in! Do you wish to know the truth? Then I shall tell! A dagger, my family heirloom, stuck in her torso from where that bastard son of mine was born! Only he and I have ever known of that dagger! I came to her side, and I wept! My lovely wife, dead in my arms, I prayed to find that bastard and kill him."
"... What? What delusions do you have? I found that boy crying, running from the Authority gate, telling me how his mother was killed by you for praying. I saw him in that miserable state! You're delusional, madman!"
"What? I am?! ... Torturer, keep this man silent. I want no other words from him until I deem it necessary."
"You crazy sod! I'll—" The torture master gagged the man with a bloodied rag. He checked the chains to confirm that the prisoner couldn't escape.
"Now, I must inquire my son again. Oh, what joy." Dei's eyes were those of an insane inquisitor. He would not enjoy the lies of his son.
Once he reached the cell, accompanied by his Northeast slave, he picked up the once-son and threw him across the stone-covered room.
"What does your leader mean, that you saw me kill your mother?! What!"
"... So," Vi began, "Deron's still alive. I wondered why there were no screams from the torture room... I saw nothing, but I heard the confession from you. You said that you killed her for praying for Nigon, and that I was an experiment for the time being. My usefulness had gone, and you were about to kill me. Oh, but you remember that, don't you, Dei?" The tall figure's face was confused and angry.
"What? I never spoke to you after she died. No, you killed her! I saw it! Her clothes dripped with blood! Her fine hair was no longer blue, but a washed—"
"Blue? Her hair was not blue..."
"Are you losing your old memories, child? She was a Westerner! She was a— ... No, nevermind."
"What fantasies have you created in that damned mind of yours, old man?"
"Your mother... ah, yes, she dyed her hair. At the time, my father despised Westerners. No, your memories are correct. But at the time of her death, she had no dye in her hair, except for that of her own blood and the dirt she fell into." Dei felt the need to calm. For her I will calm myself, he thought, until I might kill this once-son.
"... We have different stories of her death. Shouldn't you investigate this? Get a Magon to check if I'm telling the truth, and if you are telling the truth?"
"Yes... that... I can sense an emotion not of lies in your mind, but to hear thoughts is another matter. And to believe you don't even have a hint of despair in this deplorable state? Hah!"
"So you know I am telling the truth?”
"No, hearing thoughts is not my ability, as I said. It is for Freirs... I sense your emotions. And this Magon here can confirm that I tell the truth." The giant nodded. "See?"
"How do I know you're not manipulating him?"
"I am evil, but not a monster, child."
"Well, old man, I believe that you’re a liar now. You are the most terrible monster. And that you are crazy as well."
"... I saw you."
"I heard you."
"You killed her!" He kicked his son in the head.
"You killed her!" The poor prisoner couldn't fight back, not with the Northeastman there.
However, the Northeastman seemed confused. They both told the truth, neither of them had distorted emotions that of a crazy man, and they both had a similar determination for something, probably to find and kill the murderer of the late Lady of Authority. If only a Freir were here, to telepathically look into their minds and know what is going on... but that's it. The Northeastman could sense Freir blood somewhere close. Lots of it. It comes from four directions: from the weathered Bear, of whom many Northeasteners know well, though he is so old now, in the different cell; in front of him, he believes it is the master's son; farther off, towards the Academy; and much farther at the family farm nearby, close to Aelveil county, though it was in the town for a day within the recent months. He knows the magical scent it gave off. Only a little bit sends that beautiful wave of magical ability into the surroundings. He killed one, the worst mistake of his life. He could feel the dread over all as he ended that Freir's life. The surrounding Westerners at the time didn't give off enough Freir scent for the magic around them to stay cheerful. The spirits stirred in depression, the animals sunk their heads, the plants fell dead.
He found three descendants Freirs. No, not only he has. All able Northesatmen have found three new Freirs. They dare not say, though, because none of them want that feeling of dread again. Three of the Freir have been found.
Three Freirs to save the lost souls.926Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡupwtxm7vNI
