"What is the measure of a life's worth?"
It was early afternoon when Roen and Kiht stepped onto the wooden pier at Aleport. The port town was rather sparse, and its harbor was conspicuously available. The warehouse they had been looking for was dull and featureless: flat wooden doors, limestone exterior. It was be a perfect place for a would-be fugitive in hiding.
“Too many smells, and the sea air burns my nose. We must rely on our eyes, it seems.†Kiht sniffed the air as she pushed her goggles up on her forehead. She had come dressed in dark camouflage armor; three black stripes of warpaint adorned her face and a long spear hung from her back. She paused when the paladin next to her did not move, Roen remaining still as she stared at the warehouse before them. The miqo’te huntress laid her hand lightly on the woman’s arm. “Take heart,†she said softly.
Roen nodded and approached the building with heavy steps. She too had donned black armor -- dark plate-mail chased with silver gilding. Her shield hung heavy upon her back and a longsword swung by her side. Why had she chosen to come armored this way? Was she expecting Nero to fight her? In truth, she did not know what to expect. Her heart pounded as she imagined what or whom she might find inside. Nero’s estate had been emptied out, cleaned of furniture, and even the walls were clear of dust, indicating a hurried exodus. But sitting in the center of the room was a single modest chair with a small card resting on it. It had a hastily drawn clock, an address of a warehouse in Aleport, and tomorrow’s date.
He has to be here.
The door swung open with ease, though the brass hinges squealed in protest. The interior of the warehouse was just as lacking as the exterior; unmarked crates occupied the walls gathering dust and barrels huddled together in the corner along with a pile of ragged blankets. Only one figure occupied the large space, dressed in a plain unadorned robe, perched on a small box at the center of the room. He craned his head back toward the two that entered, and while Roen could not yet see his face, the voice was unmistakable.
“I was wondering if you were going to be late,†Nero called out.
The paladin squinted her eyes as she closed the doors behind her and Kiht, adjusting to the dimness within. Two shafts of sunlight filtered in through the high windows, but otherwise only a single lantern sat next to the man and his box. Its flickering flame lent an orange glow to the man’s robes. “Bound for Othard, so I hear.†She answered, approaching him slowly.
“That is my intention, yes.†The pirate snapped his fingers and a purple cloud of thaumaturgy puffed near his hand then vanished. The flame in the lantern seemed to suddenly rekindle itself, burning with renewed vigor.
Roen knitted her brows. “Why did you leave me the address?â€
“Because I felt I owed you that much,†the smuggler answered without hesitation. “To be honest, I had considered simply leaving a linkpearl in my home. I knew that is where you would check first. But then my ship got delayed, and so here I am.†The cowl turned slightly, eyes within peering at the two. “Feel free to survey the premises, if you’d like. There is no one else here but myself.â€
His words did not relieve her apprehension, but she took steps towards him nonetheless. “So. To Othard. Then what?†She could see from the corner of her eyes that Kiht stayed near her as well.
“I’m not sure,†he sighed. “I have no money to speak of. No belongings besides the clothes on my back and my abilities. Maybe find a new way of living. Have a mysterious encounter, get married, settle down on some backwater farm. Maybe live a life under the Empire, like what I dreamed of as a boy. Maybe I'll fight and lose against some giant monster. Maybe I'll just kill myself." He shrugged nonchalantly. "The wind could blow at any direction. The only thing I know for certain is that Othard is an opportunity. Nothing more, and nothing less."
"What is to stop you from returning to Eorzea to check the results of your work?†Kiht asked curtly. “What is to stop the wind from blowing you where you may yet cause more havoc? After all this, are you truly content to just live a life of minding your own business?"
"A very wise question, miss..." Nero turned in his seat and peered at the miqo’te. "I could have sworn we have met before. Were you, perchance, lacking in the war paint in our last encounter?"
"Kiht Jakkya.†The Keeper came to stand within few fulms of him and Roen, her frame tense. She was watching him carefully. “I was in your employ before I knew what you were doing, or what you had planned."
"Ah, now I remember.†Nero nodded. “Your clan's scouts were very, very competent. Nary feather nor beak of Ixal showed themselves to my caravans, while they had operated. They've my compliments. Despite what you may think of me, miss, I do hope the coin I paid them offered them some measure of comfort."
Roen watched him carefully, even though he still kept much of his face hidden. He had always been a difficult man to read, his usual smirks and sarcasm often quick to mask everything else underneath. But now as he spoke in what seemed a neutral tone, he seemed to be hiding something more.
"To return to your question, the likelihood that I will return -- given that something or someone does not kill me first -- is almost indisputable. Whether it be in ten years or fifty years, I believe that sooner or later I'll return and see whether or not Ul'dah proved me wrong. It may be a simple dalliance, a curiosity to gaze at my past, or it might be a fiery vengeance, wrought in fire and steel. Who can say?"
"Osric showed Roen and I the letter. We know your detailed plan now.†Kiht growled.
Nero responded with a scoffing laugh. He raised an eyebrow at them beneath his hood, an ice blue eye staring at the miqo'te coldly. "Oh? Then what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be out there, putting poor Scythe out of his misery?" He shook his head. "No matter. I have no idea where my ambition will be twenty or thirty years down the line, especially regarding Ul'dah. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that the more things change, the more things stay the same. That much is true of both people and the cities they live in."
Roen narrowed her gaze, studying the man as he continued. “It's possible that I will take a glance at it and then leave, never to return. Conversely, it's just as possible that I will rekindle my rebellion and raze it to the ground. Of course, at this juncture, the last thing I want to do is even think of Ul'dah. I'm rather curious to see Othard myself." There was an odd air about him, one tinged with bitterness and perhaps resignation.
"Then why do what you did?†Kiht crossed her arms. “It would just cause more hardship to only end up in the same way. Only difference is a different people will have the power."
"Ah, so you agree then, miss Jakkya, that attempting to instill change is fruitless? You are wiser than I took you for." He flashed an ironic grin, as if reveling in the hypocrisy of the question.
"I thought you would make something of an explanation or justification.†Kiht’s gaze bore him a dark look. “Are you saying you have none? The Hells did you do it for then?"
Nero sighed, folding his hands together. "If I did explain myself to you, if I did justify my actions, would you believe me? Would you understand? Would you even be capable of understanding? When an oppressive system nourishes the rulers with the suffering of the ruled…you think that kind of system can be dismantled safely, quietly?" He held up a finger. “Ah, but I know what you are going to say. 'There had to be another way.’ Interesting how that convenient excuse always comes up to save the conscience of those who fail to act. But you did not come here to listen to me preach, and to tell the truth, I would rather not be preaching. Why don't we open a true dialogue?"
He opened his arms wide as if in offering. "I will listen to what you have to say. About me. About my methods, my goals. Make no mistake, I've committed atrocities for what I believed to be right. But if you think of me as nothing but a black-hearted villain, then you've truly failed to pay attention to the story."
The pirate turned toward Roen, a hard stare on her. "In all of our arguments, we've done nothing but shout our convictions at one another and fail to listen to the other side. Mayhaps this time will be different, no?"
It was early afternoon when Roen and Kiht stepped onto the wooden pier at Aleport. The port town was rather sparse, and its harbor was conspicuously available. The warehouse they had been looking for was dull and featureless: flat wooden doors, limestone exterior. It was be a perfect place for a would-be fugitive in hiding.
“Too many smells, and the sea air burns my nose. We must rely on our eyes, it seems.†Kiht sniffed the air as she pushed her goggles up on her forehead. She had come dressed in dark camouflage armor; three black stripes of warpaint adorned her face and a long spear hung from her back. She paused when the paladin next to her did not move, Roen remaining still as she stared at the warehouse before them. The miqo’te huntress laid her hand lightly on the woman’s arm. “Take heart,†she said softly.
Roen nodded and approached the building with heavy steps. She too had donned black armor -- dark plate-mail chased with silver gilding. Her shield hung heavy upon her back and a longsword swung by her side. Why had she chosen to come armored this way? Was she expecting Nero to fight her? In truth, she did not know what to expect. Her heart pounded as she imagined what or whom she might find inside. Nero’s estate had been emptied out, cleaned of furniture, and even the walls were clear of dust, indicating a hurried exodus. But sitting in the center of the room was a single modest chair with a small card resting on it. It had a hastily drawn clock, an address of a warehouse in Aleport, and tomorrow’s date.
He has to be here.
The door swung open with ease, though the brass hinges squealed in protest. The interior of the warehouse was just as lacking as the exterior; unmarked crates occupied the walls gathering dust and barrels huddled together in the corner along with a pile of ragged blankets. Only one figure occupied the large space, dressed in a plain unadorned robe, perched on a small box at the center of the room. He craned his head back toward the two that entered, and while Roen could not yet see his face, the voice was unmistakable.
“I was wondering if you were going to be late,†Nero called out.
The paladin squinted her eyes as she closed the doors behind her and Kiht, adjusting to the dimness within. Two shafts of sunlight filtered in through the high windows, but otherwise only a single lantern sat next to the man and his box. Its flickering flame lent an orange glow to the man’s robes. “Bound for Othard, so I hear.†She answered, approaching him slowly.
“That is my intention, yes.†The pirate snapped his fingers and a purple cloud of thaumaturgy puffed near his hand then vanished. The flame in the lantern seemed to suddenly rekindle itself, burning with renewed vigor.
Roen knitted her brows. “Why did you leave me the address?â€
“Because I felt I owed you that much,†the smuggler answered without hesitation. “To be honest, I had considered simply leaving a linkpearl in my home. I knew that is where you would check first. But then my ship got delayed, and so here I am.†The cowl turned slightly, eyes within peering at the two. “Feel free to survey the premises, if you’d like. There is no one else here but myself.â€
His words did not relieve her apprehension, but she took steps towards him nonetheless. “So. To Othard. Then what?†She could see from the corner of her eyes that Kiht stayed near her as well.
“I’m not sure,†he sighed. “I have no money to speak of. No belongings besides the clothes on my back and my abilities. Maybe find a new way of living. Have a mysterious encounter, get married, settle down on some backwater farm. Maybe live a life under the Empire, like what I dreamed of as a boy. Maybe I'll fight and lose against some giant monster. Maybe I'll just kill myself." He shrugged nonchalantly. "The wind could blow at any direction. The only thing I know for certain is that Othard is an opportunity. Nothing more, and nothing less."
"What is to stop you from returning to Eorzea to check the results of your work?†Kiht asked curtly. “What is to stop the wind from blowing you where you may yet cause more havoc? After all this, are you truly content to just live a life of minding your own business?"
"A very wise question, miss..." Nero turned in his seat and peered at the miqo’te. "I could have sworn we have met before. Were you, perchance, lacking in the war paint in our last encounter?"
"Kiht Jakkya.†The Keeper came to stand within few fulms of him and Roen, her frame tense. She was watching him carefully. “I was in your employ before I knew what you were doing, or what you had planned."
"Ah, now I remember.†Nero nodded. “Your clan's scouts were very, very competent. Nary feather nor beak of Ixal showed themselves to my caravans, while they had operated. They've my compliments. Despite what you may think of me, miss, I do hope the coin I paid them offered them some measure of comfort."
Roen watched him carefully, even though he still kept much of his face hidden. He had always been a difficult man to read, his usual smirks and sarcasm often quick to mask everything else underneath. But now as he spoke in what seemed a neutral tone, he seemed to be hiding something more.
"To return to your question, the likelihood that I will return -- given that something or someone does not kill me first -- is almost indisputable. Whether it be in ten years or fifty years, I believe that sooner or later I'll return and see whether or not Ul'dah proved me wrong. It may be a simple dalliance, a curiosity to gaze at my past, or it might be a fiery vengeance, wrought in fire and steel. Who can say?"
"Osric showed Roen and I the letter. We know your detailed plan now.†Kiht growled.
Nero responded with a scoffing laugh. He raised an eyebrow at them beneath his hood, an ice blue eye staring at the miqo'te coldly. "Oh? Then what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be out there, putting poor Scythe out of his misery?" He shook his head. "No matter. I have no idea where my ambition will be twenty or thirty years down the line, especially regarding Ul'dah. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that the more things change, the more things stay the same. That much is true of both people and the cities they live in."
Roen narrowed her gaze, studying the man as he continued. “It's possible that I will take a glance at it and then leave, never to return. Conversely, it's just as possible that I will rekindle my rebellion and raze it to the ground. Of course, at this juncture, the last thing I want to do is even think of Ul'dah. I'm rather curious to see Othard myself." There was an odd air about him, one tinged with bitterness and perhaps resignation.
"Then why do what you did?†Kiht crossed her arms. “It would just cause more hardship to only end up in the same way. Only difference is a different people will have the power."
"Ah, so you agree then, miss Jakkya, that attempting to instill change is fruitless? You are wiser than I took you for." He flashed an ironic grin, as if reveling in the hypocrisy of the question.
"I thought you would make something of an explanation or justification.†Kiht’s gaze bore him a dark look. “Are you saying you have none? The Hells did you do it for then?"
Nero sighed, folding his hands together. "If I did explain myself to you, if I did justify my actions, would you believe me? Would you understand? Would you even be capable of understanding? When an oppressive system nourishes the rulers with the suffering of the ruled…you think that kind of system can be dismantled safely, quietly?" He held up a finger. “Ah, but I know what you are going to say. 'There had to be another way.’ Interesting how that convenient excuse always comes up to save the conscience of those who fail to act. But you did not come here to listen to me preach, and to tell the truth, I would rather not be preaching. Why don't we open a true dialogue?"
He opened his arms wide as if in offering. "I will listen to what you have to say. About me. About my methods, my goals. Make no mistake, I've committed atrocities for what I believed to be right. But if you think of me as nothing but a black-hearted villain, then you've truly failed to pay attention to the story."
The pirate turned toward Roen, a hard stare on her. "In all of our arguments, we've done nothing but shout our convictions at one another and fail to listen to the other side. Mayhaps this time will be different, no?"
