“...I would do it.â€
The wooden door opened with a discordant moan, its hinges having long been neglected, mottled with web and spotted with rust. Quiet footsteps crossed the threshold, leather soles pausing now and then as they came upon one dark stain upon another. The rugs had been discarded along with the furniture, but the walls and the floorboards were still marred with old, dried blood that ran through its stony pores. The wounds had not quite been washed out.
“This is not about my conscience. I finally realize that now. If I had to kill and condemn my own soul for others to live in harmony, then...then I would do it. If I knew with absolute certainty that if I were to commit evil to vanquish all other evil, and that it would only end with my own loss of life, then I would do it. My life and my soul, for a chance for everyone else…it is an impossible trade I would gladly make.â€
Roen knelt on the ground, her finger lightly grazing along the stone floor, tracing a particularly dark blemish. This particular stain was not one of old blood but a burn mark made by gunpowder. She wondered if it was from the Thousand Suns bandit gang, or perhaps a firearm wielded by one of Yoyorano’s guards or family members before they met their bloody end. She could not tell.
But as she quietly roamed through the Yoyorano’s deserted estate in Eastern Thanalan, Roen's last exchange with Nero continued to echo through her thoughts. He had not responded or even acknowledged her presence at first when he opened his eyes that next morning. He had just laid there in his bed, staring at the ceiling. In his despondent silence, her voice seemed to almost too loud within the lonely bedroom.
“But I know no such impossible trade exists. Else someone else, smarter, braver, and more noble than I would have done it long ago. Else there already would be no evil in this world. Someone would have made that sacrifice.â€
Roen stood before the fireplace mantle. imagining the family portrait that used to occupy the pale outline on the wall above it. A painting of such size, it would have likely contained the entire family: mother, father, the children, the elders…
They were now all dead.
“Evil begets more evil.â€
The palatial estate had been left to ruin, with no other noble family swooping into claim the property following the sudden and bloody deaths of an entire bloodline that used to call it home. Some whispered of a curse, and others of the place being haunted. Even if no one truly believed such tales, none could deny the brutality of the violence committed here, and none were ready to gloss over it just yet. So after the Flames and the Blades had combed through it, it was left abandoned.
Why was she here now? Surely any clue that would have been left behind had already been discovered and claimed by the authorities. And yet…this was one of many wrongs that Nero had committed in the name of saving Ul’dah…one that she could not stop, and one that she decided to stand by his side afterwards despite. All because she believed she could save him and Ul’dah.
But now...
“You wondered once, why we mortals always insist on fighting. I believe it is because we see so much pain all around us. I believe seeing Fiora die, it instilled such rage in you. All the suffering you saw, it made you choose this dark path, despite your better intentions. And now the suffering you cause, I believe will only seed more darkness. No matter what your intentions are, evil will beget more evil. There will be no world without suffering. There will be no peace at the end of that road.â€
Nero had said nothing back. She had looked to him with some sliver of hope that her words might reach him the morning after, but she was only met with silence. The smuggler was still chained to his grief.
But there was one thing that still nagged at her. While he had slept, she had gone through his study. Things were left intact; she didn’t bother breaking into any of his drawers forcibly, but had come across some letters and some notes of his plans. And one particular portion of those notes stated that he was to instigate bandits to “non-lethal†violence to provoke a citizenship response. He was to provide “armaments†and there were also notes of “Brass Blade and Sultansworn recruits.†This particular note had a check mark next to it.
It had been dated…fifteen months prior. Before Daegsatz’ death. Back then, he had planned non-lethal methods.
Roen closed her eyes, gripping the edge of the dusty mantle and leaned her forehead against it. So many things had gone wrong since. One death had led to many more.
She did not know if she could still save Ul’dah. But the bandits were still armed, she had to at least try to find and stop them. She doubted they were still bound by any non-lethal agreement, if such a thing was ever even made. The Thousand Suns bandits were responsible for killing the Yoyorano family and then there were the those who followed Scythe, a bandit leader within the walls of Ul’dah that had the poor believing that he would bring them the next revolution. Roen could not ignore the fact that it was Nero who had hired the former to commit their crimes, and sold firearms to the latter to incite violence. His involvement in this was as bloody as any one of them.
“...But what form will my atonement take, if I fail?"
Roen shook her head. She did not want to ponder such thoughts, not yet. She had to focus on more immediate threats. Her search for Scythe had so far yielded nothing; the man had toned down his recruitment activities after the violence in Pearl Lane and the subsequent death of his lieutenant, Clauremont Guillford.
Over a moon ago, the paladin had tracked down the Elezen’s sister, Clarabelle Guillford, into an Ul’dah brothel, after her brother was found dead in the Blades' gaol. Both the Elezens had given her the impression that they saw Scythe as their light of hope to fight the injustice. Neither were willing to betray the man nor give any more details to the paladin on how to find him.
"Let me see if I can dissuade him myself.†Nero had finally acquiesced the next morning, even if barely and begrudgingly so after she pressed him about Scythe. “ A lot of the people under his protection are 'innocents' as well."
It was the best she would get out of the once relentless pirate. So Roen left him laying there in his home, and made her way back to Thanalan on her own. There was still much work to be done.
Roen gave the grimly dark estate one more cursory glance, as if to scan for that one last clue that happened to be standing in plain sight--something, anything she might have missed...when a sand-colored pearl chimed.
When Roen placed it in her ear, her eyes widened at what she heard.
Moments later she rushed out, the abandoned building bidding the departing paladin a haunting farewell with a mocking creak, as its doors swung back and forth from its crooked hinges.
The wooden door opened with a discordant moan, its hinges having long been neglected, mottled with web and spotted with rust. Quiet footsteps crossed the threshold, leather soles pausing now and then as they came upon one dark stain upon another. The rugs had been discarded along with the furniture, but the walls and the floorboards were still marred with old, dried blood that ran through its stony pores. The wounds had not quite been washed out.
“This is not about my conscience. I finally realize that now. If I had to kill and condemn my own soul for others to live in harmony, then...then I would do it. If I knew with absolute certainty that if I were to commit evil to vanquish all other evil, and that it would only end with my own loss of life, then I would do it. My life and my soul, for a chance for everyone else…it is an impossible trade I would gladly make.â€
Roen knelt on the ground, her finger lightly grazing along the stone floor, tracing a particularly dark blemish. This particular stain was not one of old blood but a burn mark made by gunpowder. She wondered if it was from the Thousand Suns bandit gang, or perhaps a firearm wielded by one of Yoyorano’s guards or family members before they met their bloody end. She could not tell.
But as she quietly roamed through the Yoyorano’s deserted estate in Eastern Thanalan, Roen's last exchange with Nero continued to echo through her thoughts. He had not responded or even acknowledged her presence at first when he opened his eyes that next morning. He had just laid there in his bed, staring at the ceiling. In his despondent silence, her voice seemed to almost too loud within the lonely bedroom.
“But I know no such impossible trade exists. Else someone else, smarter, braver, and more noble than I would have done it long ago. Else there already would be no evil in this world. Someone would have made that sacrifice.â€
Roen stood before the fireplace mantle. imagining the family portrait that used to occupy the pale outline on the wall above it. A painting of such size, it would have likely contained the entire family: mother, father, the children, the elders…
They were now all dead.
“Evil begets more evil.â€
The palatial estate had been left to ruin, with no other noble family swooping into claim the property following the sudden and bloody deaths of an entire bloodline that used to call it home. Some whispered of a curse, and others of the place being haunted. Even if no one truly believed such tales, none could deny the brutality of the violence committed here, and none were ready to gloss over it just yet. So after the Flames and the Blades had combed through it, it was left abandoned.
Why was she here now? Surely any clue that would have been left behind had already been discovered and claimed by the authorities. And yet…this was one of many wrongs that Nero had committed in the name of saving Ul’dah…one that she could not stop, and one that she decided to stand by his side afterwards despite. All because she believed she could save him and Ul’dah.
But now...
“You wondered once, why we mortals always insist on fighting. I believe it is because we see so much pain all around us. I believe seeing Fiora die, it instilled such rage in you. All the suffering you saw, it made you choose this dark path, despite your better intentions. And now the suffering you cause, I believe will only seed more darkness. No matter what your intentions are, evil will beget more evil. There will be no world without suffering. There will be no peace at the end of that road.â€
Nero had said nothing back. She had looked to him with some sliver of hope that her words might reach him the morning after, but she was only met with silence. The smuggler was still chained to his grief.
But there was one thing that still nagged at her. While he had slept, she had gone through his study. Things were left intact; she didn’t bother breaking into any of his drawers forcibly, but had come across some letters and some notes of his plans. And one particular portion of those notes stated that he was to instigate bandits to “non-lethal†violence to provoke a citizenship response. He was to provide “armaments†and there were also notes of “Brass Blade and Sultansworn recruits.†This particular note had a check mark next to it.
It had been dated…fifteen months prior. Before Daegsatz’ death. Back then, he had planned non-lethal methods.
Roen closed her eyes, gripping the edge of the dusty mantle and leaned her forehead against it. So many things had gone wrong since. One death had led to many more.
She did not know if she could still save Ul’dah. But the bandits were still armed, she had to at least try to find and stop them. She doubted they were still bound by any non-lethal agreement, if such a thing was ever even made. The Thousand Suns bandits were responsible for killing the Yoyorano family and then there were the those who followed Scythe, a bandit leader within the walls of Ul’dah that had the poor believing that he would bring them the next revolution. Roen could not ignore the fact that it was Nero who had hired the former to commit their crimes, and sold firearms to the latter to incite violence. His involvement in this was as bloody as any one of them.
“...But what form will my atonement take, if I fail?"
Roen shook her head. She did not want to ponder such thoughts, not yet. She had to focus on more immediate threats. Her search for Scythe had so far yielded nothing; the man had toned down his recruitment activities after the violence in Pearl Lane and the subsequent death of his lieutenant, Clauremont Guillford.
Over a moon ago, the paladin had tracked down the Elezen’s sister, Clarabelle Guillford, into an Ul’dah brothel, after her brother was found dead in the Blades' gaol. Both the Elezens had given her the impression that they saw Scythe as their light of hope to fight the injustice. Neither were willing to betray the man nor give any more details to the paladin on how to find him.
"Let me see if I can dissuade him myself.†Nero had finally acquiesced the next morning, even if barely and begrudgingly so after she pressed him about Scythe. “ A lot of the people under his protection are 'innocents' as well."
It was the best she would get out of the once relentless pirate. So Roen left him laying there in his home, and made her way back to Thanalan on her own. There was still much work to be done.
Roen gave the grimly dark estate one more cursory glance, as if to scan for that one last clue that happened to be standing in plain sight--something, anything she might have missed...when a sand-colored pearl chimed.
When Roen placed it in her ear, her eyes widened at what she heard.
Moments later she rushed out, the abandoned building bidding the departing paladin a haunting farewell with a mocking creak, as its doors swung back and forth from its crooked hinges.
