Half an hour later, a servant let me into Xilarion’s study. It was still as minimalist as before, a small, simply decorated place, oriented to function over comfort.
Master Xilarion sat at his desk as he went over a pile of papers. He seemed to be writing letters, and I wondered if they were to the parents of our lost comrades. It seemed like the sort of thing Xilarion would do.
“Take a seat, Ethan Murphy,” he said.
I settled down across from him. “You wanted to see me, master?”
“Indeed.” Xilarion set aside his papers. “I have three things to say, but I will try to be quick about them. We all need our rest.”
I nodded.
“Firstly, I want to thank you again for your extraordinary action against the Wysaro. Not for the first time, you have shown your incredible value to the guild. I hope that you will work with us for a long time to come.”
“Thank you, master,” I said. “I hope so, too.”
I was surprised to realize that it was true. These days, I hardly ever thought about returning to Earth. My life here was too rich, my studies with the guild too fascinating, for me to want to go back.
“Secondly, I want to talk with you about Hamon. Many guild masters would execute one of their members if he betrayed them the way Hamon did. But this is not my way. Responsibility for today’s carnage lies on the shoulders of Lord Wysaro, and the son should not suffer for his father’s sin.”
“Hamon attacked us too,” I said. “That was his choice.”
“It was, and he will be punished for it. Once I have found a way to stabilise his condition, to give him some sort of body that can survive in the world, he will be cast out. Dishonored and guildless, he will lose the status that he has always felt entitled to. No guild will train him, no court offer him shelter. For a man like Hamon, that will be a great punishment indeed.”
I shifted uncomfortably. I’d seen enough movies to know how that sort of act would end. After what had come between us, Hamon would be a thorn in my side for as long as he lived, a wound that risked becoming rank with infection and killing me. The angry rival was sure to return for his revenge, no matter what mercy or help any of us gave him.
“Master Xilarion, I understand that peace is important to you. Surely saving Hamon will only bring more violence later?”
“The Path of Peace does not allow us to pick and choose who we save. When your choice came, did you leave the Wysaro injured to die”
“No, master.”
“Then do not let your history with Hamon poison your heart. If you do that, then your victory today grows smaller.”
“Yes, master.”
I knew that I wouldn’t win this argument, and in a way, I didn’t want to. Giving in to the urge for vengeance would make me more like the Wysaros, and Xilarion was right—becoming like them wasn’t winning, however the fight went. Except pragmatism had to have its place. Hamon was deadly alive, but I could do nothing to end his life while Xilarion wished to spare it.
“You said there were three things?” I asked.
“Indeed. And given what I have just said about your value here, this may seem the strangest. But I have decided to send you away.”
“To send me away?” I frowned. “What about my training? What about rebuilding the guild?”
“This is to help with the rebuilding of the guild. Or rather, to help with its long term survival.
“The defeat of the Wysaros creates an opportunity for us. While they are leaderless, we can increase our own influence, to strengthen our position against whatever challenge comes next. I need someone I can trust to go on a mission, someone with the skills, the intelligence, and the determination to see it through no matter the odds. I can think of no-one better than you. Will you do this for me?”
I was torn. I felt honored just to be asked and excited to see more of this world. But at the guild I could train, could learn, could spend time with my friends. It would be a shame to leave that behind.
Just as it would be a shame not to seize the opportunities I was given.
I bowed my head. “Yes, master.”
“You will go to the Diamond Coast. I wish for you to deliver a letter to Guildmaster Horix of Resplendent Tears. I have a second letter for King Beqai of the Qihin Clan. They are both old friends of mine, and they are currently at odds with each other. I wish to prevent what happened here from occurring between them.”
“So, you want me to be a negotiator between them?”
“Yes,” Xilarion said. “Although I am troubled by their conflict. I believe something more sinister may be at the root of it.”
“Sinister?”
Xilarion nodded. “I will prepare the letters. You will leave at dawnbreak.”
Being a glorified messenger wasn’t exactly my dream job, but the Seven Realms had so much to offer that I doubted it would be quite as simple as that.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Dawn came quickly, and I bathed before venturing outside the guild house. The smell of ashes hung in the morning air. The evening’s rainfall had doused the last embers of the arena fires and turned the charred ground to a gray sludge. Yet there was a sense of excitement about the guild. Servants were up early to clear the debris and prepare for the day’s work ahead. Master Kyu was out with a measuring string and something akin to a theodolite as she assessed the work that would be needed to make everything right.
Though the servants were up, most of the guild members were still asleep. No one greeted me or asked where I was going as I walked across the courtyard, the Sundered Heart Sword at my back, a rolled blanket over my shoulder, and
