Nixon began telling this mesmerized young man minor details of his history, and each time Aryu had to agree death was the most necessary course of action to reach the ends Nixon was bound to if these tales were true. After twenty minutes, Aryu wondered more and more why this Hangman of the Lord was letting him live to hear them.
Were he to enter the head of this Heavenly Avenger, he’d see that that was the exact same thought in his head as well, with the simple exception of the one powerful, overlying fact.
This time was different. This time nothing was as it should be. The world had changed, moved beyond what was considered normal for so many years. This simple fact seemed to break every barrier Nixon had. The routine was broken, the patterns shuffled. It now went beyond a need for answers. In this conversation, Nixon had convinced himself that although he may find some, a satisfactory one would not arrive.
By the time the talking was finished (or at least, all the important parts, as full stories of all Nixon’s past and targets would likely have gone on forever), Aryu was certain that despite his certainty on the matter, Nixon had all but talked himself out of killing the young man, and Aryu was not about to remind him of his pledge. Not after all those stories. Not after all he knew now.
All for the luck of finding that one little sword amidst the rubble. Nixon informed him that he could not recall a time anyone had happened upon it simply by accident, and although he wasn’t about to call this the first time, he certainly couldn’t dismiss the option. For all either of them could see, that was all it was. Aryu was not powerful or worldly, and beyond his obvious difference (which he was not self-conscious about at all while with this man), he was just a young man only beginning his path in life. His direction could not be determined yet. His intentions were not, as Nixon had said, worth punishing.
“So do you doubt your God’s intentions now?” Aryu regretted saying it the moment it slipped from his lips. He hadn’t reminded him of his task outright, but he had just stepped into the next best thing.
Nixon lost his radiant smile. The darkness consumed them both as the baseless fire died down, seemingly tied to the emotions Nixon suddenly found himself entrenched in.
“No. Ne’er tha’ far, but I do doubt His ability t’ predict and command the powers tha’ control me so long after his leavin’ this world. Just t’ say tha’ may be considered blasphemy by some I knew, but I am afraid tha’ while I have always considered his power beyond great, it was not so great tha’ it was infinite and everlasting in his absence. He drew power and strength from the world and tha people tha’ inhabited it. Even gone, His strength was eternal as long as the faith remained. When the false god purged tha power and the eternal peoples tha’ possessed it, in one swoop he abolished what remained of any great belief in Him. It’s a sad fact, actually, as it was the false god who cast him away, essentially destroying him in the first place. It is only bitterly fittin’ tha’ he cast the final blow. Thousands of years dunna’ make rememberin’ easy. Quite the contrary, it blooms new myths and misinformation, and ‘ere we are inna place where the machine, once revered, is looked upon as evil, and tha false god is remembered fondly and worshiped while his far-more noble predecessor is dust in tha wind.”
The fire was nearly dead now, fading more and more as Nixon became lost in the gloom. Aryu, desperate to return his spirits and resist returning to a world with dead parents and a destroyed home, said the only thing he could think of to perpetuate the conversation to a lighter place.
“Nixon. I’ll go with you east. I’ll help you find your path and do all I can to help you sleep again. For not killing me yet, and it was something you were clearly set on, I think I have to. I am clearly a link in a chain you need to piece together, and from what you’ve told me tonight, you are someone worthy of helping.”
It sounded so cheesy coming from his mouth. Not contrived, but not far off. ‘A link in the chain’? Not Aryu’s usual choice of words, but he was trying to sound as sincere as he could. A few days ago, it was just as likely that he’d have pissed himself and cried after this meeting, but growth came in pouncing on someone who’d been through all he had in that time.
Nixon looked at Aryu, reading his sincerity (or perhaps just trying to cut through the schlock). The fire grew after a moment and Nixon spoke.
“You’ll na’run? Not attempt t’ escape until the deed is done? Ya know if ya do what my reaction will be.”
“You’ll find me and kill me, yes, but that’s not why I’m agreeing. I will not run because I don’t want to.” It was true. Despite Aryu’s need to confirm what the Herald had said and done, something triggered in his head. This was something he wanted, and he had good reasons for it.
Nixon gauged the answer. He was no fool, and he was not tricked easily.
