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Epic Fantacea #20 The Bastard
Epic Fantacea #20 The Bastard
The figure in the antiquated Shadrakin armor was called Orlokx, and he was the shame of Justarius.
"Stay the hell away from me," thought Justarius, contempt oozing out of his every pore.
Orlokx, whose every movement echoed with the clanking and jingling of heavy full plate, stood within arms reach of the middle-aged commander.
Justarius was seething and his hatred toward the undead knight did not go unnoticed by him.
"I can't expect you to forgive me, Justarius, nor can I expect you to try and to understand, but there is one thing I want you to consider through your pain and your angst.
They betrayed you," said Orlokx, pointing out toward the burning city. "At least, you did not betray them," he said emphasizing 'you' and 'them.'
"Don't let your anger consume you--don't forget who you are and what you believe in."
"What you believe in," Orlokx continued, and much to Justarius's annoyance, his large, undead ancestor slapped him on the chest, "is right here." "Your Love," he said with another slap, "your passion,"--another slap, "and your devotion. Do not forget the Prophet, and do not forget your God."
"Please, leave me alone," Justarius said, turning away from his walking, talking, and deceased ancestor.
"Leave you alone? Sure, I shall leave you alone, if it is Hell you truly desire. For Hell is the Great Alone."
With that last statement being said, the undead knight named Orlokx, who was known as 'the Bastard' turned and walked away from Justarius, toward a shadowy and uninhabited part of the ship.
Justarius tried his best to ignore the other's departure, and tried without success to ignore his words. A breeze, hot and smokey, blew in just then, causing both knights' capes to flutter violently in its wake.
The others, for their part, had seemed disinterested in the conversation shared by the two Shadrakin knights.
Justarius looked back and forth between Lukifell, the long-haired wilder half-man-half-elf and Feyd, the clean cut noble elf.
Undoubtedly those two had heard the entire exchange. At least they had the decency not to show it.
Justarius glanced over to where he had last seen Orlokx, walking away. He was nowhere around.
"He's used to being alone," Justarius thought, "dead without peace, alone in a crypt, thinking without being able to move or speak until summoned under the right conditions...
What thoughts went through his head for over a full century without sleep or comfort?
Why do I care? To the hells with him! He is a bastard traitor--why should I be concerned with him?"
FORGIVE YE THEN, EVERY MAN'S TRANSGRESSIONS AND A NEW LIFE WILL IN YE BE MADE.
Those words of the Prophet, Shadrakus, echoed through Justarius's head, and through his beating heart.
"Dammit," swore the knight, feeling completely like a hipocrite. It would be easy--too easy--to shut out the teachings of Shadrakus. It would be much too simple to disregard the prophets, all of them, as charlatans and to blame the gods for the way things were.
"Do not confuse the institution with the principles," someone had once said.
"Dammit," was all Justarius could say, and that was putting it lightly.
--to be continued--