Japan in Alagaësia

The Punishment of God

The Punishment of God

Jeod did not remember much from his walk back to the city. He was barely aware of a guard saluting him at the entrance, or of the culminations of daily auctions within the town square, where the shouts of the bidders grew ever louder in their last moment efforts to obtain whatever goods were on offer today. If there were other happenings, he did not register them through the fog in his mind.

His feet stopped, and he absentmindedly took in the edifice of his house, before he skipped inside.

His feet climbed the stairs, while his mind saw the monster verge on him for the hundredth time, and then the other Eyes crumpling to the ground, blood splashing everywhere, and then the terrible darkness swallowing everything...

He had not even attempted to bury the other member of Arcaena.

Jeod abruptly entered his personal chambers. Not taking his coat off, he scrambled to the drawers, went down on his knees, and fumbled for the key that would lock the door of this room, his mind struggling to remain in the present.

He did not find it.

"No..." he raved.

In desperation, he stuck his hands into the shelves and hurled out his possessions, one after the other, without the slightest care. Thuds of objects hitting the floor reached his ears, and even the shattering of glass—a material so expensive most peasants could not afford it, but Jeod did not waver in his ransack, not even to have a glance at the wreckage.

Finally he had uprooted everything in the drawers, leaving everything in disarray around his room, and he stared at the empty, keyless shelves.

He clenched his fists and vacantly noted the stinging pain in one of his fingers—he had probably cut himself on something sharp during his rummage. Still on his knees, Jeod stared at the wall before him, without actually looking at it.

Then someone knocked at the door.

Jeod started. "No!" he exclaimed, his voice quivering. "Don't enter! I..." he faltered.

"... Master Jeod?" came the familiar voice of Rolf. The butler sounded confused. "Supper is almost ready. Wine or brandy, master Jeod?"

Jeod drew a deep breath. He needed to compose himself. For them.

"You should serve them some apricot brandy for today," Jeod answered. At least his voice was steady. "I will not be joining you. I am busy with... some important matters. Tell them..." He wavered. "Tell them that I am not to be disturbed for this week. No one is to enter my chambers." He swallowed, trying to gather strength to finish his instructions. "Do not disturb me, even if I do not join you for meals or other routines. And you do not need to send for meals up here. Understood?"

"Are you sure about—"

"Understood, Rolf?"

"I understand, master Jeod," said Rolf. "I will do as you ordered." Nothing more was heard from him but his retreating footsteps.

Slowly, Jeod crawled through the mess of his room to the bed. The last of his resolve expended, he crashed on top of it. Then he did something he had not done in a very long time.

He cried.

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"Are you sure he said ten murders?" inquired Kazuhiro.

"Yeah," answered Tsubasa.

"Hmm... with median estimates of Teerm's population from several divisions converging on twenty-five thousand... the corresponding homicide rate would be roughly forty per one hundred thousand in that case. Compared to 14th and 15th century Western Europe specifically, this is a decent rate." Kazuhiro leaned back in his chair on the lower deck of the red seal ship, the decorations of the wooden interiors minimal beyond work equipment. Despite being technically indoors, they both wore hantens over their kimonos, as the lack of central heating and limited insulation meant the insides of the ship were somewhat chilly, though the stoves—using smokeless briquettes as fuel—were moderately helpful.