The Second Forte’s silhouette stood tall against the stormy skies, its towering masts threatening to pierce the swirling grey clouds above. No sunlight reached the Lominsan coast this midday, as the heavens opened up to release a downpour onto the white stoned city-state below. It was one of those rainstorms that flushed away the rooted grime from the lower streets, the mud and dirt washing out to the sea. No one noticed the woman walking through the empty merchant streets, the vendors and street rats busy scurrying from unprotected streets and piers.
Roen approached the docks, her footsteps heavy. Her hair was already plastered onto her face, her shirt soaked through the skin. She had been standing on the cliff overlooking the sea, wondering what she would say. No answers came. She could not fathom what she could say that would ease Nero’s pain.
The crew already recognized her as she neared, and pointed out where she would find their captain. Roen found herself avoiding their gazes, unreasonably afraid that if they met her eyes, they too would know the loss they had all had suffered.
When she reached the double doors of the captain’s quarters, the paladin found herself frozen, her hand hovering just before it.
“I saw you approach the ship,†Nero’s muffled voice came from within. “This cabin has portholes, you know. Come in.â€
Nero stood in front of his desk, looking over some maps. Roen could barely look at the edge of the desk, dread already gripping around her heart. She frowned as she tried to collect her whirling thoughts; words would not come easily.
There was a pause from the smuggler--as if he noted her expression--but he greeted her with a grin anyway, as if to ease the tension. “I do believe I ordered some raptor from the Bismarck. I take it you're not here for that delivery?"
His jovial tone only made things worse. She knew she had to say it before she lost the courage to do so. Roen turned to him with haunted eyes. “Nero…†her voice was hoarse. “I…need to tell you something.â€
She watched as his mirth drained away from his expression. He exhaled, as if to brace himself for bad news. “Speak, then.â€
Roen closed her hands into tight fists by her side to quell the trembling there. But her voice still shook. "It is about Daegsatz. He..." She closed her eyes, hating the words she was about to say. "...He was executed in the gaols. For the crime of piracy." She wanted to hide, she wanted to be anywhere else but here, but she stood and forced her gaze back onto the pirate.
Nero's expression soured, gradually at first. She saw his eyes flit about, as if chasing a million different thoughts. His fingers curled, gripping the table he was leaning on, fingertips white on the rough grain, his breaths coming quicker. His head slowly lowered, his long forelocks falling around his eyes, hiding his expression from her.
“I am…so sorry,†she rasped. “I did not know until it was too late. He had already been…â€
His voice trembled when he finally spoke. “...How did he die? And by who’s hand…?†Each words sounded leaden, almost a struggle for him to speak them. Roen saw his knuckles turning white as his fingers dug into the wooden desk, a few splinters breaking with the effort.
Roen swallowed, fighting the constriction in her throat that wanted to rob her of her breath. "Natalie had a signed death warrant. He had confessed and..." She found her own voice faltering. She had to tell him what happened. He deserved at least that much. "...and she questioned him. He did not give her what she wanted to know. So she carried out the execution."
"Did he suffer?" His voice was tight, strained, as if it was going to snap like a cable stretched too thin.
"Nay." Her answer was immediate."Natalie had two witnesses. They all said it was quick."
"Witnesses...." he rasped, his tone distant as if not quite understanding.
"A Flame and another Sworn." Roen nodded, sadness fighting with her own lingering bitterness at those words.
"...Witnesses..." he echoed. His voice sounded hollow. "A…warrant. From whom? Natalie is…she is a a Sworn. Did the Sultana...? Raubahn?"
“From an authority higher than Natalie."
"Then..." Nero started to say something, stopped, struggling with each word, as if trying to grasp the truth of what she was telling him. When he finally raised his head, his movements were labored. The eyes that bore into her through his bright orange forelocks were moist and bloodshot. "Tell me, then…where was…where was the trial?"
"The warrant. Tell me it was by a court's authority. Tell me that there was justice." His voice grew shakier, fraught with grief and anger. "Tell me…lie to me....tell me that he did not simply…tell me that…" he gasped. "Tell me he did not…die like an animal in a cage…" His words were broken by stuttered breaths.
Roen could only stand there. Her body felt emptied, as if all the blood had drained away. The rain that had soaked her to the skin now cloaked her in a cold embrace, though it was not the rain that made her tremble. "I am so sorry, Nero," she whispered, her head bowing.
"Tell me!!" He slammed his hands on the table. "Tell me that! Tell me that I was not foolish for…believing..."
Her own face twisted with grief but the paladin stood stalk still. She had no more words for him.
He rose from the desk. "You…you lied, didn't you..." Nero was in the throes of his grief, his despair fueling his words. "You told me…you said…he'd be freed…why did you lie? Why did you give me hope? Why did you…why...." His words died in a choked whisper.
Her hand slipped over her mouth as Roen forced her gaze to rise to meet his. He needed to grieve, perhaps to blame. She blamed herself, she could not turn his away "I am so sorry," was all she could offer. Her eyes were overflowing with tears, spilling her sadness and guilt.
He seemed naught to hear anything she had to offer. "I...I should have...no, I...why didn't I...I should...." He was pacing now, like a lost, confused animal, though the desk remained between them. His eyes, once so focused and sharp, they darted helplessly about the room, lost. His words stumbled over each other. Gone was the pirate captain, the sarcastic rogue, the determined smuggler, the fearsome thaumaturge. In its place was now but a boy, looking for answers, for a purpose.
"This...this was not your fault,†Roen shook her head. If nothing else, she needed for him to hear that.
With an animalistic scream, Nero whipped around and smashed his fist against one of the thick glass portholes. Cracks ran like spiderwebs across it, and blood began to seep from his knuckles. He did not seem to register the pain or the blood or the cracks. With his fist still pressed against the glass, he heaved, his chest rising and falling.
"Tell me...tell me...why…why he had to die like that…like -that...." His voice cracked. "Did he…did he not deserve better? Was that his fate, when he was brought into this world? Was...I..."
Roen swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. "He did not deserve that fate."
"Why...why him, why not me? Why was he punished? For my wrongdoings...?"
She stepped forward, pressing up against the desk that stood between them."His death was not your fault." She said again, desperately willing for him to hear.
"Then who's was it!? Who do I have to kill to...to bring Satz back? If it was not my fault, then...who...I'll... what do I..." The grief in his voice had given way to rage, and fury--not the indignant soul arguing for bettering Ul'dah, but merely a man lost in the throes of his despair. He was staring at the floorboards now, his bloody fist still pressed against the cracks in the glass. His left arm was slack, his knees stiff, his neck hung loose. Tears had begun to trace the scars on his face, dripping forlornly to the floor.
Roen had no words to offer. She took a step to close the distance between them.
"Leave me," he said hoarsely with his back to her still. "You've…done enough. Leave me."
Her hand rose then lowered again. She bowed her head and turned, and slowly walked back out of the cabin.
When she crossed the threshold, she saw Garalt, waiting outside the door. The Highlander's stoic face was creased and cracked with sadness, and his burly arms were folded across his chest.
"It is true, then," he said softly, his gruff voice full of sorrow.
Roen could only nod in response.
Garalt merely nodded his head slowly, standing aside to let her pass. "For what it is worth, miss...thank you for trying."
A broken gasp escaped just then, the paladin nearly faltered as the Highlander offered even that small bit of kindness. Her vision began to blur as she lowered her head. Anger was easier to take, to accept. She shook her head quickly again and stepped past him, her hand quickly brushing the moisture at her cheeks. "It was not enough."
"It usually never is," Garalt said, eyeing the grief-stricken captain in the cabin through the doorway behind her.
Roen fought for another breath, trying not to let more tears flow in light of Garalt's sympathy. "Nero is going to need...I knew Daegs loved..." she whispered between gasps. She turned and looked up at Garalt, her eyes imploring. "You will help him...aye?"
Garalt patted her shoulder with sympathy. "As best...as I can. But he's lost two of the most important people in his life…any man who's lost that much..." Garalt shook his head with a knowing sadness. "Daeg was a brother to me. But to Nero, he was…his binding element. Daeg kept him together during his hardest times." He paused and regarded her intently. "He may not say it, but I believe he trusts you, at least a bit. It would do good for you to....keep an eye on him as well."
The paladin searched the Highlander's expression, as if trying to make sense of his words. She just witnessed firsthand the pain she had brought upon Nero. She could not fathom that he would hold anything but blame for her. And yet...
Roen nodded, her gaze drifting downwards. "Aye. Whatever he needs," she whispered. She promised Daegsatz, did she not? She casted a forlorn glance back towards the cabin.
Garalt nodded to her. "You should go..." the Highlander said softly, almost guiltily.
She nodded, brushing her cheeks again. "Gratitude for your words," she whispered hoarsely, then quickly exited the ship. It was only after she stepped outside into the torrential rain that she let her tears flow freely, wishing the sadness and regret could be washed away out to sea.
Roen approached the docks, her footsteps heavy. Her hair was already plastered onto her face, her shirt soaked through the skin. She had been standing on the cliff overlooking the sea, wondering what she would say. No answers came. She could not fathom what she could say that would ease Nero’s pain.
The crew already recognized her as she neared, and pointed out where she would find their captain. Roen found herself avoiding their gazes, unreasonably afraid that if they met her eyes, they too would know the loss they had all had suffered.
When she reached the double doors of the captain’s quarters, the paladin found herself frozen, her hand hovering just before it.
“I saw you approach the ship,†Nero’s muffled voice came from within. “This cabin has portholes, you know. Come in.â€
Nero stood in front of his desk, looking over some maps. Roen could barely look at the edge of the desk, dread already gripping around her heart. She frowned as she tried to collect her whirling thoughts; words would not come easily.
There was a pause from the smuggler--as if he noted her expression--but he greeted her with a grin anyway, as if to ease the tension. “I do believe I ordered some raptor from the Bismarck. I take it you're not here for that delivery?"
His jovial tone only made things worse. She knew she had to say it before she lost the courage to do so. Roen turned to him with haunted eyes. “Nero…†her voice was hoarse. “I…need to tell you something.â€
She watched as his mirth drained away from his expression. He exhaled, as if to brace himself for bad news. “Speak, then.â€
Roen closed her hands into tight fists by her side to quell the trembling there. But her voice still shook. "It is about Daegsatz. He..." She closed her eyes, hating the words she was about to say. "...He was executed in the gaols. For the crime of piracy." She wanted to hide, she wanted to be anywhere else but here, but she stood and forced her gaze back onto the pirate.
Nero's expression soured, gradually at first. She saw his eyes flit about, as if chasing a million different thoughts. His fingers curled, gripping the table he was leaning on, fingertips white on the rough grain, his breaths coming quicker. His head slowly lowered, his long forelocks falling around his eyes, hiding his expression from her.
“I am…so sorry,†she rasped. “I did not know until it was too late. He had already been…â€
His voice trembled when he finally spoke. “...How did he die? And by who’s hand…?†Each words sounded leaden, almost a struggle for him to speak them. Roen saw his knuckles turning white as his fingers dug into the wooden desk, a few splinters breaking with the effort.
Roen swallowed, fighting the constriction in her throat that wanted to rob her of her breath. "Natalie had a signed death warrant. He had confessed and..." She found her own voice faltering. She had to tell him what happened. He deserved at least that much. "...and she questioned him. He did not give her what she wanted to know. So she carried out the execution."
"Did he suffer?" His voice was tight, strained, as if it was going to snap like a cable stretched too thin.
"Nay." Her answer was immediate."Natalie had two witnesses. They all said it was quick."
"Witnesses...." he rasped, his tone distant as if not quite understanding.
"A Flame and another Sworn." Roen nodded, sadness fighting with her own lingering bitterness at those words.
"...Witnesses..." he echoed. His voice sounded hollow. "A…warrant. From whom? Natalie is…she is a a Sworn. Did the Sultana...? Raubahn?"
“From an authority higher than Natalie."
"Then..." Nero started to say something, stopped, struggling with each word, as if trying to grasp the truth of what she was telling him. When he finally raised his head, his movements were labored. The eyes that bore into her through his bright orange forelocks were moist and bloodshot. "Tell me, then…where was…where was the trial?"
"The warrant. Tell me it was by a court's authority. Tell me that there was justice." His voice grew shakier, fraught with grief and anger. "Tell me…lie to me....tell me that he did not simply…tell me that…" he gasped. "Tell me he did not…die like an animal in a cage…" His words were broken by stuttered breaths.
Roen could only stand there. Her body felt emptied, as if all the blood had drained away. The rain that had soaked her to the skin now cloaked her in a cold embrace, though it was not the rain that made her tremble. "I am so sorry, Nero," she whispered, her head bowing.
"Tell me!!" He slammed his hands on the table. "Tell me that! Tell me that I was not foolish for…believing..."
Her own face twisted with grief but the paladin stood stalk still. She had no more words for him.
He rose from the desk. "You…you lied, didn't you..." Nero was in the throes of his grief, his despair fueling his words. "You told me…you said…he'd be freed…why did you lie? Why did you give me hope? Why did you…why...." His words died in a choked whisper.
Her hand slipped over her mouth as Roen forced her gaze to rise to meet his. He needed to grieve, perhaps to blame. She blamed herself, she could not turn his away "I am so sorry," was all she could offer. Her eyes were overflowing with tears, spilling her sadness and guilt.
He seemed naught to hear anything she had to offer. "I...I should have...no, I...why didn't I...I should...." He was pacing now, like a lost, confused animal, though the desk remained between them. His eyes, once so focused and sharp, they darted helplessly about the room, lost. His words stumbled over each other. Gone was the pirate captain, the sarcastic rogue, the determined smuggler, the fearsome thaumaturge. In its place was now but a boy, looking for answers, for a purpose.
"This...this was not your fault,†Roen shook her head. If nothing else, she needed for him to hear that.
With an animalistic scream, Nero whipped around and smashed his fist against one of the thick glass portholes. Cracks ran like spiderwebs across it, and blood began to seep from his knuckles. He did not seem to register the pain or the blood or the cracks. With his fist still pressed against the glass, he heaved, his chest rising and falling.
"Tell me...tell me...why…why he had to die like that…like -that...." His voice cracked. "Did he…did he not deserve better? Was that his fate, when he was brought into this world? Was...I..."
Roen swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. "He did not deserve that fate."
"Why...why him, why not me? Why was he punished? For my wrongdoings...?"
She stepped forward, pressing up against the desk that stood between them."His death was not your fault." She said again, desperately willing for him to hear.
"Then who's was it!? Who do I have to kill to...to bring Satz back? If it was not my fault, then...who...I'll... what do I..." The grief in his voice had given way to rage, and fury--not the indignant soul arguing for bettering Ul'dah, but merely a man lost in the throes of his despair. He was staring at the floorboards now, his bloody fist still pressed against the cracks in the glass. His left arm was slack, his knees stiff, his neck hung loose. Tears had begun to trace the scars on his face, dripping forlornly to the floor.
Roen had no words to offer. She took a step to close the distance between them.
"Leave me," he said hoarsely with his back to her still. "You've…done enough. Leave me."
Her hand rose then lowered again. She bowed her head and turned, and slowly walked back out of the cabin.
* * *
When she crossed the threshold, she saw Garalt, waiting outside the door. The Highlander's stoic face was creased and cracked with sadness, and his burly arms were folded across his chest.
"It is true, then," he said softly, his gruff voice full of sorrow.
Roen could only nod in response.
Garalt merely nodded his head slowly, standing aside to let her pass. "For what it is worth, miss...thank you for trying."
A broken gasp escaped just then, the paladin nearly faltered as the Highlander offered even that small bit of kindness. Her vision began to blur as she lowered her head. Anger was easier to take, to accept. She shook her head quickly again and stepped past him, her hand quickly brushing the moisture at her cheeks. "It was not enough."
"It usually never is," Garalt said, eyeing the grief-stricken captain in the cabin through the doorway behind her.
Roen fought for another breath, trying not to let more tears flow in light of Garalt's sympathy. "Nero is going to need...I knew Daegs loved..." she whispered between gasps. She turned and looked up at Garalt, her eyes imploring. "You will help him...aye?"
Garalt patted her shoulder with sympathy. "As best...as I can. But he's lost two of the most important people in his life…any man who's lost that much..." Garalt shook his head with a knowing sadness. "Daeg was a brother to me. But to Nero, he was…his binding element. Daeg kept him together during his hardest times." He paused and regarded her intently. "He may not say it, but I believe he trusts you, at least a bit. It would do good for you to....keep an eye on him as well."
The paladin searched the Highlander's expression, as if trying to make sense of his words. She just witnessed firsthand the pain she had brought upon Nero. She could not fathom that he would hold anything but blame for her. And yet...
Roen nodded, her gaze drifting downwards. "Aye. Whatever he needs," she whispered. She promised Daegsatz, did she not? She casted a forlorn glance back towards the cabin.
Garalt nodded to her. "You should go..." the Highlander said softly, almost guiltily.
She nodded, brushing her cheeks again. "Gratitude for your words," she whispered hoarsely, then quickly exited the ship. It was only after she stepped outside into the torrential rain that she let her tears flow freely, wishing the sadness and regret could be washed away out to sea.
