What am I doing?
Roen sat on the beach watching the slow descent of the sun, its reflection on the waters setting the horizon ablaze with golden ripples. The night air was growing chillier; goosebumps ran up along her arms, but the paladin did not notice. The distant whispers of the foaming waves did little to sooth her troubled thoughts as she recalled the conversation just a bell ago.
She had confronted Nero, asked him directly about the bandits and their Vylbrand-made guns. She at first thought he would dodge the subject, he had not even deigned to face her, so intent was he on his task--carving a filigree onto an elaborate silver plate. He spoke to her, but his eyes were hidden behind his magnifiers, his form bent over his workstation. But when she asked, his answers came direct and clear.
He admitted that he sold weapons to the bandits in Ul’dah--that he sold weapons in many places, as others of his profession did as well. He also confirmed that there were guns along with the refugee supplies, those that she had helped him retrieve from the Brass Blades so many moons ago. That was the primary reason he wanted that shipment back. It had started all the way back then.
"From the very start I never knew the whole truth. How much do you not tell me?" she asked him.
"I did not know you very well back then. If I had told you that there were weapons, what would you have done? Had me arrested, perhaps. Insisted the weapons be thrown away or destroyed. What reason could I have possibly had to tell you that I was carrying weapons? If nothing else, our little spat at Lost Hope cemented the notion that you would never tolerate that kind of information, and lo was I correct.†His calm tone never wavered, and he did not turn his attention away from his work; his hands never stopped in their moving of the tools as he inlaid thin strands of metal and ceramic beads into the engravings.
"Have things truly changed since then? Do you only tell me what you want me to know? Because I am starting to wonder." She scowled.
"Roen, I've learned to trust you. I trust you to be honest to a fault, and ever the idealist. I also trust that you will never understand the concept of doing bad things for a good cause, much in the same way that I will never understand how you think this world can operate entirely without bloodshed." He only paused for a moment. "No, that's not fair. I should say that I will never understand how you think bloodshed is not necessary."
The paladin squinted but said nothing in answer.
"I am curious. Are you angry because of the weapons in Ul'dah, or because you did not know about them?"
Roen paused. She had come to him wanting answers, but...was her anger because she felt that she was betrayed that he had not told her? Or was it because he was selling weapons in Ul’dah? The latter was something his kind had always done. Had she expected that all his criminal activities would end when he agreed to work with her? Nero went onto to add that the shooting in Pearl Lane was in retribution for the killings and the violence that the Hammerbeaks had already committed against others. But that did not justify adding more fuel to the fire.
“I suppose both,†she muttered with a hint of indignation. She turned away from him. “Sometimes I feel as though I am supporting something that I have yet to realize what it will exactly do. That I am hoping for a result without knowing the full extent of all that will be broken and all the suffering that will be incurred along the way. I fear that I am on a path that will exact all the things that I once swore to protect people against. I fear that I am losing my way. And I have been defending you, to so many people and yet I know not what you are doing."
"Perhaps you do not want to know.†His quiet tone remained neutral, as ever. “Perhaps knowing exactly what I am doing will drive you to stop me. You weren't prepared to kill me before. Do you think, if you had to stop me, you'd be prepared to kill me now?"
Roen felt a chill run down her spine. She could naught but stand frozen still and stare at the wall ahead of her.
"I see.â€
The paladin bowed her head with a pained expression, as if struck through the chest. "I gave my heart to you,†she whispered. “The very thought of you coming to harm..." She paused, shaking her head. “I do not know what I would do."
The sounds of tools and beads came to a pause. "I do what I must, Roen. That is all I have ever done,†he said quietly. She could hear him turn in his seat, perhaps to look at her. It was her turn to keep her back to him. "The weapons, the deception…do you believe that I would have done any of that, if I did not believe it to be absolutely necessary?"
Roen’s gaze drifted toward some burning coals nearby, the small sparks of ember taking flight only to be extinguished moments later. “Nay,†she rasped. “You told me that you considered all the options. And that you only choose violence if you believe there is no other choice. I believe you."
A sigh could be heard behind her and she heard him turn back to his work again. "In any case, this should turn the focus towards the Monetarists. If the bandits are expelled from the city, then so much the better."
Roen glanced over her shoulder to the back of his head once more. "One of the bandits, an Elezen, he implicated you through me. The Immortal Flames, the Sultansworns, and the Brass Blades. They will turn their attention to you."
She could hear the wry smile in his response. “Trust the authority figures to completely miss the purpose of the message. But then, I suppose that's not a surprise.†His hands resumed their work, maneuvering tools over the silver plate. “The one thing a man with power fears is losing that power. Maintaining that farce of 'law' is the only way they can think of to keep their power. The second I can turn the Flames and the Sworns against the Monetarists, when they stop chasing their tails and look up to see the bigger picture…that is when we win. Raubahn bears no love for the Monetarists, but he hesitates. The only thing required to be in power is for you to be willing to do what your opponent won't."
Nero let out a quiet sigh. "There is always some destruction before creation. Some demolition before rebuilding. As soon as people understand that…things can change for the better."
Roen did not give voice to her own doubts. That she too feared this destruction he spoke of. This process of tearing things down so that a better future can emerge, like a seed sown beneath the barren ground. She feared for the deaths that may come. She already woke in cold sweat at times, thinking of those who had already lost their lives in this struggle, both innocent and not. And yet hope remained deep within, that Nero’s dream of fixing the tainted Jewel could still come true. And in that, she could help Nero find his own redemption. That the streets need not flow with blood. That countless lives need not be lost. And yet, in holding on to that hope, she had already seen an entire family's bloodline die. Even though he had promised to become a better man since, there were times when Roen still battled her own apprehensions, despite the love she held for the man. Had she not come to find him this day, fearing him to have betrayed her?
Was her heart blinding her to the truth? Or was it giving strength to her faith in the man who truly needed it? Who would not be saved otherwise? And the city that would be left to rot as others turned a blind eye? She had to believe in the latter.
“Perhaps if I can talk to Ser Crofte and Broken Nose, to see where they stand on this…â€
"I think you should avoid them for now,†Nero said matter-of-factly. "Despite your good opinions of them, all they can see is the status quo. That order is maintained. Good people as they are, both are incapable of seeing beyond that image."
Roen felt a her chest tighten with dread. "I had hoped to enlist their help. I had hoped that others would see what needed to be done. That we were not alone in trying to do this." She realized then, it was not dread. It was loneliness.
"But we are."
"No one seems to see it," she whispered. "Or want it."
"They've turned a blind eye to it. Can you blame them?"
Roen turned fully then, facing his back once more. Her voice shook. "What we are doing. Is it so extreme? Is it worth it?"
"Is it worth it..." Nero echoed the question, pausing in his work. "To be honest, I don't know. Perhaps all of this will be for naught. Perhaps the city will be even worse off when we're done." He sighed. "I do not know if it will be worth it. But I do know that things cannot stay as they are."
The paladin shook her head, slowly at first, then the gesture grew emphatically. "I have to believe it will be worth it. It has to be. Else all that has happened, all the deaths and suffering for even a chance at changing something..."
"If none of it is worth it…if nothing changes..." the smuggler seemed to falter, he stopped again. "Then I suppose the only thing left for me to do would be to atone for those I have harmed."
Roen scowled deeply at the implication. "I meant what I said. That after all this is over…I wish for some peace and happiness for you."
"You are too kind,†Nero said quietly. “I know what I've done. How loudly will the dead howl at me, if after taking their lives all I end up doing is living a life of content satisfaction?"
"Then call it a selfish thing,†Roen snapped, stepping forward. "I do not wish to imagine the end you see for yourself." She exhaled sharply, her words turning into a plea. “It is never too late to choose to do the right thing. To show mercy. To spare lives. To atone."
Nero set the tools down and leaned back as he took the magnifiers off his face. "Perhaps not. But what form will that atonement take, if I fail?"
Those words haunted her even now. Roen had no answers for him then. And as the darkness began to descend with the arrival of dusk, the sun having fully retreated from the sky, the paladin still had no answers to give.
Roen sat on the beach watching the slow descent of the sun, its reflection on the waters setting the horizon ablaze with golden ripples. The night air was growing chillier; goosebumps ran up along her arms, but the paladin did not notice. The distant whispers of the foaming waves did little to sooth her troubled thoughts as she recalled the conversation just a bell ago.
She had confronted Nero, asked him directly about the bandits and their Vylbrand-made guns. She at first thought he would dodge the subject, he had not even deigned to face her, so intent was he on his task--carving a filigree onto an elaborate silver plate. He spoke to her, but his eyes were hidden behind his magnifiers, his form bent over his workstation. But when she asked, his answers came direct and clear.
He admitted that he sold weapons to the bandits in Ul’dah--that he sold weapons in many places, as others of his profession did as well. He also confirmed that there were guns along with the refugee supplies, those that she had helped him retrieve from the Brass Blades so many moons ago. That was the primary reason he wanted that shipment back. It had started all the way back then.
"From the very start I never knew the whole truth. How much do you not tell me?" she asked him.
"I did not know you very well back then. If I had told you that there were weapons, what would you have done? Had me arrested, perhaps. Insisted the weapons be thrown away or destroyed. What reason could I have possibly had to tell you that I was carrying weapons? If nothing else, our little spat at Lost Hope cemented the notion that you would never tolerate that kind of information, and lo was I correct.†His calm tone never wavered, and he did not turn his attention away from his work; his hands never stopped in their moving of the tools as he inlaid thin strands of metal and ceramic beads into the engravings.
"Have things truly changed since then? Do you only tell me what you want me to know? Because I am starting to wonder." She scowled.
"Roen, I've learned to trust you. I trust you to be honest to a fault, and ever the idealist. I also trust that you will never understand the concept of doing bad things for a good cause, much in the same way that I will never understand how you think this world can operate entirely without bloodshed." He only paused for a moment. "No, that's not fair. I should say that I will never understand how you think bloodshed is not necessary."
The paladin squinted but said nothing in answer.
"I am curious. Are you angry because of the weapons in Ul'dah, or because you did not know about them?"
Roen paused. She had come to him wanting answers, but...was her anger because she felt that she was betrayed that he had not told her? Or was it because he was selling weapons in Ul’dah? The latter was something his kind had always done. Had she expected that all his criminal activities would end when he agreed to work with her? Nero went onto to add that the shooting in Pearl Lane was in retribution for the killings and the violence that the Hammerbeaks had already committed against others. But that did not justify adding more fuel to the fire.
“I suppose both,†she muttered with a hint of indignation. She turned away from him. “Sometimes I feel as though I am supporting something that I have yet to realize what it will exactly do. That I am hoping for a result without knowing the full extent of all that will be broken and all the suffering that will be incurred along the way. I fear that I am on a path that will exact all the things that I once swore to protect people against. I fear that I am losing my way. And I have been defending you, to so many people and yet I know not what you are doing."
"Perhaps you do not want to know.†His quiet tone remained neutral, as ever. “Perhaps knowing exactly what I am doing will drive you to stop me. You weren't prepared to kill me before. Do you think, if you had to stop me, you'd be prepared to kill me now?"
Roen felt a chill run down her spine. She could naught but stand frozen still and stare at the wall ahead of her.
"I see.â€
The paladin bowed her head with a pained expression, as if struck through the chest. "I gave my heart to you,†she whispered. “The very thought of you coming to harm..." She paused, shaking her head. “I do not know what I would do."
The sounds of tools and beads came to a pause. "I do what I must, Roen. That is all I have ever done,†he said quietly. She could hear him turn in his seat, perhaps to look at her. It was her turn to keep her back to him. "The weapons, the deception…do you believe that I would have done any of that, if I did not believe it to be absolutely necessary?"
Roen’s gaze drifted toward some burning coals nearby, the small sparks of ember taking flight only to be extinguished moments later. “Nay,†she rasped. “You told me that you considered all the options. And that you only choose violence if you believe there is no other choice. I believe you."
A sigh could be heard behind her and she heard him turn back to his work again. "In any case, this should turn the focus towards the Monetarists. If the bandits are expelled from the city, then so much the better."
Roen glanced over her shoulder to the back of his head once more. "One of the bandits, an Elezen, he implicated you through me. The Immortal Flames, the Sultansworns, and the Brass Blades. They will turn their attention to you."
She could hear the wry smile in his response. “Trust the authority figures to completely miss the purpose of the message. But then, I suppose that's not a surprise.†His hands resumed their work, maneuvering tools over the silver plate. “The one thing a man with power fears is losing that power. Maintaining that farce of 'law' is the only way they can think of to keep their power. The second I can turn the Flames and the Sworns against the Monetarists, when they stop chasing their tails and look up to see the bigger picture…that is when we win. Raubahn bears no love for the Monetarists, but he hesitates. The only thing required to be in power is for you to be willing to do what your opponent won't."
Nero let out a quiet sigh. "There is always some destruction before creation. Some demolition before rebuilding. As soon as people understand that…things can change for the better."
Roen did not give voice to her own doubts. That she too feared this destruction he spoke of. This process of tearing things down so that a better future can emerge, like a seed sown beneath the barren ground. She feared for the deaths that may come. She already woke in cold sweat at times, thinking of those who had already lost their lives in this struggle, both innocent and not. And yet hope remained deep within, that Nero’s dream of fixing the tainted Jewel could still come true. And in that, she could help Nero find his own redemption. That the streets need not flow with blood. That countless lives need not be lost. And yet, in holding on to that hope, she had already seen an entire family's bloodline die. Even though he had promised to become a better man since, there were times when Roen still battled her own apprehensions, despite the love she held for the man. Had she not come to find him this day, fearing him to have betrayed her?
Was her heart blinding her to the truth? Or was it giving strength to her faith in the man who truly needed it? Who would not be saved otherwise? And the city that would be left to rot as others turned a blind eye? She had to believe in the latter.
“Perhaps if I can talk to Ser Crofte and Broken Nose, to see where they stand on this…â€
"I think you should avoid them for now,†Nero said matter-of-factly. "Despite your good opinions of them, all they can see is the status quo. That order is maintained. Good people as they are, both are incapable of seeing beyond that image."
Roen felt a her chest tighten with dread. "I had hoped to enlist their help. I had hoped that others would see what needed to be done. That we were not alone in trying to do this." She realized then, it was not dread. It was loneliness.
"But we are."
"No one seems to see it," she whispered. "Or want it."
"They've turned a blind eye to it. Can you blame them?"
Roen turned fully then, facing his back once more. Her voice shook. "What we are doing. Is it so extreme? Is it worth it?"
"Is it worth it..." Nero echoed the question, pausing in his work. "To be honest, I don't know. Perhaps all of this will be for naught. Perhaps the city will be even worse off when we're done." He sighed. "I do not know if it will be worth it. But I do know that things cannot stay as they are."
The paladin shook her head, slowly at first, then the gesture grew emphatically. "I have to believe it will be worth it. It has to be. Else all that has happened, all the deaths and suffering for even a chance at changing something..."
"If none of it is worth it…if nothing changes..." the smuggler seemed to falter, he stopped again. "Then I suppose the only thing left for me to do would be to atone for those I have harmed."
Roen scowled deeply at the implication. "I meant what I said. That after all this is over…I wish for some peace and happiness for you."
"You are too kind,†Nero said quietly. “I know what I've done. How loudly will the dead howl at me, if after taking their lives all I end up doing is living a life of content satisfaction?"
"Then call it a selfish thing,†Roen snapped, stepping forward. "I do not wish to imagine the end you see for yourself." She exhaled sharply, her words turning into a plea. “It is never too late to choose to do the right thing. To show mercy. To spare lives. To atone."
Nero set the tools down and leaned back as he took the magnifiers off his face. "Perhaps not. But what form will that atonement take, if I fail?"
Those words haunted her even now. Roen had no answers for him then. And as the darkness began to descend with the arrival of dusk, the sun having fully retreated from the sky, the paladin still had no answers to give.
