[What differs a Daeva from a common human (aside from power) is that Daevas are immortals. They bind their souls to a Obelisk, a magical stone in their homeland and when their body dies, it resurrects by the Obelisk. Obelisks can be condensed into Kisks, a sort of portable Obelisk, so they can bring them where they like. The only way a Daeva can permanently die is if he’s too far from the Obelisk (or the Kisk), or if the Obelisk is corrupt or if he never binded to any.]
Oh dear Aion, it’s an Asmodian. Oh dear Aion…
Outside, bathed in the sunlight, it seemed like a nightmare. How could an Asmodian be there?
Eilan was heavily panting, her back leaning at the cave entrance, a hand on her crazy heart.
An Asmodian… for Aion’s sake, an Asmodian! What do I do? Will he come out? Will he try to kill me?
No, of course he won’t… didn’t you see, he’s injured! He’s unconscious!
A Guard. I need to call a Guard.
Shacking and scared, the girl started running towards Agairon village. The Asmodian was likely to be part of the other night’s raid… he was probably injured and his companions left him behind. How typical of those Demons, they didn’t even care for their own people. The Guards would take care of him. Yes. No?
Eilan stopped running as the thought hit her like a lightning strike. Take care of him? What was she thinking?
Nobody would take care of the Asmodian… well, not the way she was meaning it.
The Asmodian was an enemy. A deadly enemy. The Asmodian was to be executed, immediately and without any trial.
The Asmodian was to die.
The girl glanced back, in the cave direction, still shacking.
Yes, she knew she was right… if she reported what she found to a Daeva, that Asmodian’s minutes were counted. Still, why should she care? Asmodians were beasts, sworn enemies. They were evil.
And yet, her mind was suddenly ported back, to a conversation she had years ago, with one of her dearest friends.
“… no, I didn’t want to do it.”
“And yet you did.”
The fire was slowly dying in the fireplace and his last, dancing flames, lightened Yurik’s face. The Daeva was looking sad, his eyes lost in the fire, his fists clenched.
“As a member of the army, I had no choice. But I don’t expect you to understand.”
Seventeen year old Eilan drank the last bit of her tea. “Well, try to! Even if I’m just a human, I’m not stupid, you know.”
Yurik smiled and turned to her. “You’re not, aren’t you? Well then… but promise you’ll never tell anybody about this. It’s not allowed, you know.”
“I promise!” was the obvious answer. Eilan was very proud about having a Daeva friend even though she knew she was like some kind of puppy to him. How else could a hundred year old Elyos look at her? But she didn’t mind… as long as he trusted her.
“Have you ever done something you’re deeply ashamed of, Eilan?” The Ranger looked at her but stopped her from replying. “I just want you to think about it. Think about how you felt, how guilty, how “dirty”. Remember the feeling. And now… think about what you would feel if you had to do it again. And again. And again.”
“That’s horrible!” The girl exclaimed. “I would never do it!”
The deep blue eyes of the Elyos chained with her as he whispered. “Now think that if you won’t do it, a lot of people you care for, a lot of people you love, will die.”
And Eilan froze. Her eyes suddenly filled with tears as a sense of impotence gripped her heart. Yurnik smiled sadly.
“That’s it.” He resumed. “You feel you have no choice, don’t you? That’s what I feel too. I don’t like going to Asmodae, I don’t like sacking their villages, casually hurting their humans, killing Asmodians. And if we Elyos ever succede, if we manage to shatter the remaining of the Tower of Darkness… Asmodae will be no more.”
He traced a tear on Eilan’s cheek, cupping it with his hand. “But if we don’t do it, Elysea will be destroyed. We will all die. People I care for will die. You will die. It’s either them or us, Eilan. That’s why even if I don’t want to do it, I will still cross the rifts and try my best to rip their tower apart. And somehow, I feel that some Asmodians think the same as me. If only there was a way to survive without destroying each other…”
Maybe that Asmodian was the same as Yurnik. Maybe, like the Ranger, he had no choice. Maybe he had a wife, or a daughter or a mother waiting for him. What if his kisk was destroyed? Eilan knew all about kisks and Obelisks and resurrection. And even if it was unlikely, she knew that sometimes a dead Daeva was really dead and could never return.
Without even realizing it, she had made her way back to the cave and was now kneeled before the wounded Asmodian.
He seemed young, but the girl knew his appearance had no meaning. Daevas never aged. His skin was a dark shade of blue, his features were beautiful even if pained and dark short hair was sticking on his sweating forehead.
If not for the skin colour, this could as well be an Elyos face… can I really just let him die? Can I turn him in?
Her hand carefully brushed his face; he was burning with fever.
“You sure don’t look so dangerous now…” she whispered.
Another low moan from him made her step away fast, but when she noticed he was still unconscious, she relaxed.
Standing up in the cave, the low light of the lamp reflected on his dark body, Eilan stayed still for some minutes, watching her race’s sworn enemy wounded before her.
Just a call. She just had to make a call to her Guards and he would be no more.
He would never knew about her selling him away, he would never come back to have his revenge.
But when Eilan headed home that night, she already knew there would have been no calls for help, no executions. She was a healer, not a killer.
She just couldn’t let him die without trying to save him.
For sure, just one Asmodian wasn’t so important in the great balance of things.
She could spare him.
She wasn’t a soldier. She had a choice.