– Firdia, Skydiath 8,
8034 –
A cool breeze swept across the
warm bricks, slowly wearing away at the heat absorbed from the setting sun. The
day had been long, but not long enough to heat the various ruined structures to
uncomfortable temperatures, allowing Davídrius to perch on top of a scarred
building while he watched the sunset.
His gaze eventually moved away from the sun and down to the ruins surrounding him – the collapsed walls, the blasted guard towers, the pillaged homes. Bloodstains covered almost every surface in sight, the only remaining sign of the dead bodies Davídrius had buried earlier in the day. Now, his former home of Riken was but a gathering of ruins; where it was once a bastion against the terrible desert outside, it was now merely a part of the vast wastelands itself.
The Introtechnic cast a sullen glance to the side as the sound of a motor approached his ears, but made no further attempt to investigate. Instead he turned back to the sunset, sitting as still as the ruins around him, almost as if he were a part of them himself.
“I knew I’d find you here.”
“I thought I told you good-bye,” Davídrius replied flatly, making no attempt at eye-contact as Selind approached the short building he was sitting on.
“You never say good-bye,” she countered, “And when you do you never mean it. That’s why you’re here.”
The Introtechnic glanced down at her after a few moments and then returned his gaze to the sunset. Selind stared at him for a few moments before sighing and leaning against the wall, electing to join Davídrius in silence and sunset observance.
“…I killed them all.”
“Huh?” Selind looked up at Davídrius again.
“…The Bleeders,” he responded sullenly, “I found the nearest encampments, and killed ‘em all. Not a Bleeder left standing for a few hundred kilometers in any direction.”
“Wow. That’s… impressive.”
“Yeah, but… …was it right?”
“’Right’?” Selind echoed incredulously, “You’ve killed Bleeders before. What’s different now?”
“…”
“An eye for an eye, they always say.”
“Yeah, well they also say it makes the whole world blind.”
“…It’s not like you to be all philosophical.”
“Well it’s not like me to fail so massively against the Bleeders either, yet here we are.”
“This wasn’t your fault, Davídrius,” Selind glanced around warily at the surrounding ruins, “…you had no way of knowing that the Bleeders could manage such a counterattack.”
“Just like I’ve got no way of knowing whether random Bleeder joe-schmoe actually joined voluntarily or was pressed into joining and I killed ‘im for no reason, or like how I’ve got no way of knowing if I actually could’ve stopped a massive attack on Riken, or like how I’ve got no way of knowing if leaving Treséd was ever the right decision, or like how I’ve got no way of knowing if I made the right choice when I killed one of my friends half a week ago, or like I know anything, really.”
“You’ve never doubted yourself before, not like this. What gives?”
The Introtechnic gave a lofty sigh, staring out into the distance as Selind watched him warily.
“I always thought I was right,” he eventually responded, his voice low, “that, you know, that killing is the answer. Someone’s a threat to you or someone else, you take ‘em out. Don’t have the time to deal with all the what-ifs. Or, I guess… you could actually say that I just never thought about it in the first place. It’s easy to make decisions when you don’t think, and just react. That was before, though, before I left. Made some… I guess you could call them friends. I dunno. Feels hard saying that now, though.”
Selind frowned as Davídrius looked down at his hands.
“You’ve heard about the Nanocreatures, right? An’ all that metallic infection shit?”
“I’ve heard bits and pieces, yeah.”
“One of my… …one of my teammates got infected. Corrupted. Whatever you call it. Shortly after the Nanocreatures showed up and started wreaking havoc, she lost control of her body. Like… the corruption was taking over. Yeah, corruption sounds better than infection, keh. Infections don’t really cause you to attack your best friend against your will, do they?”
“…”
“She and her friend got locked in a fight, but I… cut the fight short. By killing the corrupted one. …At the time, it seemed like the right thing to do. I mean, I still think it was the right thing to do. But her friend blamed me for it, and at the time I thought she was wrong, but now that I think about it… I don’t know…”
“This…” Selind shifted uncomfortably, “…that sounds a lot like what happened with Hanas.”
Davídrius winced visibly. “I… I know. I made that comparison myself.”
“You know you couldn’t have saved her. You had done everything you were physically capable of; you would’ve had to gain time-traveling abilities to do any more for her than you did.”
“I know that. That’s why– that’s why I regretted not killing her immediately, to end her misery early. That’s why I killed my recent friend so quickly.”
“Then why the hell are you doubting yourself?”
“Because, I–“ the Introtechnic paused for a moment, pursing his lips as he clenched his fists. “…It was my fault she got corrupted in the first place. I mean, I didn’t know it happened when it did, but, in hindsight – if I had just been paying attention, if I had been a little bit faster, I could’ve stopped the damn bug, and none of this would’ve happened. She’d still be here, her friend wouldn’t be in fuckin’ jail, I wouldn’t be down here beating myself up while everyone else is off on a mission to who-knows-where…”
Selind sighed, moving her eyes off of Davídrius and up to the darkening sky above. “So, that’s it?”
“…’That’s it’?” he growled, glaring down at her, “The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”
“Earlier, when you were asking about if killing was the right thing to do – were you asking because you were actually wondering about the moral consequences of killing in general, or because it had only just hit you that you might’ve killed an innocent in the past, and you’re starting to feel guilty about it?”
“I, I don’t…”
“I’d almost thought you’d changed, again,” she closed her eyes wearily, “…I should stop doing that.”
“Dammit Selind, you keep going on about this change shit but you never explain yourself. Just fucking tell me already.”
“…Your problem is that you’re stuck in the past,” Selind responded quietly.
“…What…?”
“You take the saying ‘hindsight is 20/20’ and then run it into the ground. You act in the moment, but as soon as it’s over you think back and find every single little mistake you made and every little thing that you could’ve done better, and then you blame yourself for the whole situation. You even blame yourself for your Dad’s death and that happened while you were being fucking born. It’s why you’re a terrible protector.”
“A terrible–?! I was the only goddamn Chaotic in the region for years! I was the best Guardian this side of Tresnon. All the other compounds wished they could be under my protection.”
“No,” Selind shook her head, “You were a fine Guardian, but you’re a bad protector, because what you did wasn’t protection – it was retaliation. It was revenge.”
“What…?”
“You blamed yourself for your Dad’s death, so you took up the role of the father figure to your siblings, even though you were still just a pup. Then, you blamed yourself for your family’s deaths, so you took up the role of Riken’s Guardian, even though you weren’t even 10. You blamed yourself for Hanas’s loss, so you took it upon yourself to take out her controller and Strén. Then, apparently, you blamed yourself for your friend’s condition, so you came down here in an attempt to balance it all out by killing some Bleeders – and then, when you learned about Riken, you only blamed yourself again and decided to take out all of the Bleeders in the area.” Selind stepped away from the wall and turned toward Davídrius, her back to the horizon as the sun finally disappeared behind it. “Don’t you see a pattern here? You never think about the future, or, hell, even the present. You just get stuck in the past, blaming yourself, and then you get angry and take it out on others. I’d bet that’s why you started killing, and why you didn’t regret it until now; you weren’t trying to deter the Bleeders, you were trying to punish them. That’s not protection. That’s revenge.”
The Introtechnic scowled irately, looking away in a pointed effort to ignore Selind’s gaze. “You think you’ve got me all figured out, just like that, huh?”
“You aren’t a terribly complicated person. …Well, not to a fellow Guardian, at least.”
“Gee, that really makes me feel better.”
“Davídrius, I’m trying to help you…”
“Well maybe you should help yourself first, huh? Fix your own goddamn mistakes before you try fixing mine.”
“Look, I know… I know I’ve made mistakes. But this is exactly what I’m talking about when I say you don’t think about the future. You can’t just ignore what other people say because it hurts. A little pain now is worth it if you can prevent a lot of pain down the line, you know?”
Davídrius sighed impatiently. “I knew I shouldn’t have tried talking to you…”
“…Is that really what you think?” Selind crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing, “I’m trying to help. Do you just want me to listen to your pathetic self-doubt and nod my head in agreement?”
“As if I need your help. Or any help.”
“Cut the bullshit, Davídrius. You’re only 21, of course you need help. Everyone does.”
Davídrius glanced at Selind and then looked away dismissively. “You could really do without the holier-than-thou attitude.”
“Ha. …Never could handle a woman like me, could you?” Selind smirked bitterly, “You never liked it when people disagreed with you. I guess that’s why you liked Hanas so much, huh? I bet she never refused you.”
“You take that back,” Davídrius growled, dropping from his perch on the rooftop to draw one of his sabers on Selind menacingly.
“What’re you gonna do? Kill me?”
“I–!” he started, but stopped himself and settled into a deep scowl.
“See?” Selind replied quietly, “All you can think about is revenge. Retaliation. When you were Guardian of Riken, you weren’t there to protect their future. You weren’t trying to help the compound grow and thrive. You were there to make sure past massacres didn’t repeat themselves. And you know what? It hurts to hear, but I bet that’s why they continued to happen. You have to plan for the future if you don’t want to repeat the past, Davídrius. Only one of those things can change, after all.”
Davídrius pursed his lips again, but eventually he slowly lowered his saber. “You think it’s as simple as that?” he responded flatly, “Just… stop thinking about the past?”
“No,” she shook her head, “Obviously it’s not that simple. For you… I’m sure it’s hard. But you aren’t just protecting a small compound anymore. You’re working with the Nimaliakians, the Tekdecénians, the Riveranians. As far as I can tell you’re actually fighting those Nanocreature things. You’re fighting to protect the galaxy now, Davídrius, and the galaxy’s a big place. You can’t blame yourself for every failure out there, for everything that you might’ve done wrong, for everything that you could’ve done right. It’s too much; you’ll kill yourself.”
“Hn.”
“I admit I’ve made mistakes… mistakes that’ve forced me to stay here. I don’t know if I can ever actually leave Treséd, in good conscience…” she sighed. “But you haven’t made those mistakes. Not yet. I don’t think you realize what you have, Davídrius – you have an opportunity that most Tresédians will never get, an opportunity to get off this damn rock legitimately and make a name for yourself out there. This is one of those once-in-a-lifetime opportunities, you know. Don’t waste it because can’t get over your past.”
Davídrius stared at Selind for several moments before sighing and shifting his gaze to the horizon, and then up to the twilit sky. “…I had forgotten how wordy you can get.”
“Well, that’s why I drink,” she smirked, “I tend to get quieter when drunk. Sometimes. Really weird how that works.”
“Implying that you aren’t weird by default?”
“Funny,” Selind planted her hands on her hips, “But I meant everything I said, Davídrius.”
“Yeah, yeah…” he glanced away as he absentmindedly sheathed his saber, “I guess… I don’t completely regret talking to you.”
“I suppose I shouldn’t expect much more from you,” she smiled wearily, “Think about it, though. You’re still young. I’d hate to see you screw this up.”
“You keep treatin’ me like I’m a kid, but you’re not much older, you know.”
“…It sure doesn’t feel like I’m 23. I feel a lot older than that.”
“You almost look the part, too.”
“Hey,” she shoved Davídrius playfully, “You tryin’ to call me a hag?”
“Hah, I might be,” he smirked back, but quickly adopted a more serious expression. “You keep talkin’ like you’re stuck here, but I told you a couple days ago; it wouldn’t be hard at all for you to leave.”
“No…” Selind responded wistfully, turning back toward the horizon, “I… can’t leave. Not yet. There’s still a couple anchors here that… that I’m not sure I can leave behind.”
“Thinkin’ about going back to Austilad?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. …It’d be pretty arrogant to expect him to accept me back, though.”
“Ha. Just a little bit ago you were tellin’ me to focus more on the future, and here you are, stuck on the past yourself.”
“I never could take my own advice, could I,” Selind chuckled uneasily.
“No, you couldn’t…” Davídrius replied, “…It’s not all bad, though. We’ve all got our flaws.”
“Some broad strokes, there.”
“Yeah yeah, whatever,” the Introtechnic shook his head, shifting his gaze to the sky above, where the stars were just beginning to make themselves visible. Selind slowly followed suit, the two Tresédians staring upwards and taking in the dark sights in silence.
“…Hey, Selind?”
“Yeah?”
“…Thanks. For being here. And listening.”
She glanced down at the Introtechnic, but he continued observing the sky, either not noticing her attention or ignoring it outright.
“…Heh,” she eventually responded, returning her eyes to the skies. “Anything for a friend.”
* * * * *
==================== End of Chapter 57 ====================
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