Gustave Delacroix had always thought he had a solid grasp on how the world worked. Of course, he couldn't comprehend things like God's plans, the weather, and other such forces. But overall, he thought himself rather grounded in his view of the world.
Two days after he witnessed demons descend upon a village and a man who was immortal so long as people feared him, Gustave was still unsure what to make of those circumstances. Even though he'd thought about it so much that his men were beginning to worry.
The townsfolk believed God had sent the creatures to punish them. He considered that, however, that conclusion came to blows with his theological education. And that was the closest thing he had to an answer.
God didn't punish that way. Suffering came as a result of a choice to turn away from God. One brought it upon himself.
He also thought that perhaps demons had risen from hell simply to cause pain. But...even the devil was smarter than that. The devil fought against God by converting people to atheism or paganism.
So did that mean the pagans who had killed that demon were actually among hell's rank and file? A question for a future less confused Gustave.
Gustave snapped out of his thoughts and returned to the present moment. His mare had stopped to eat a patch of grass. He pulled her away with his reins and caught up to his men, the townsfolk, and the mercenaries.
Well...Gustave wasn't sure if they were mercenaries. He wasn't sure of anything right now.
He envied the less educated in that moment. Even his men, who were the sons of noblemen in the country, only had a rudimentary understanding of esoteric dealings like God and Hell.
Gustave often asserted himself as an authority because of his education, but in this scenario, that education made him even more lost than those who grew up on farms.
There appeared to only be about six people who actually knew what was going on. So at their midday break, when the villagers and his men divided scarce rations while the mercenaries ate, to their hearts' delight, Gustave approached them. Specifically, the Sklaveni woman they called Taya.
Gustave collapsed into a cross-legged position, his lamellar armor clanking as he did.
"Sklaveni." Gustave muttered.
"How can I help you?" Taya asked absent mindedly, as she drank tea from a metal cup.
"What...what the hell is happening?" he asked.
"I was wondering when one of you would ask." Taya said.
"My men wouldn't speak to you without my permission." Gustave said.
"Why?" Taya frowned.
"Because it'd be insubordination if they did so." Gustave said.
Taya shook her head, "I think that's just a good soldier getting shit done."
"Whatever you want to call it, I would like an answer to my question."
"Well, you're going to need to be more specific. 'What the hell is happening' could mean a ton of things. Do you mean what are we supposed to do with this life? What are we currently doing?"
"You know very well, what I'm talking about, woman. Don't play games with me. The demons and dragons and whatever unholy abominations we encountered that day." Gustave said. He paused before shaking his head. "Why am I even trying? You're all a bunch of pagans."
"Ahem." the shorter woman among their group got his attention, "Not all of us are pagan."
Gustave frowned.
YOU ARE READING
The Call of Crows
خيال (فانتازيا)Bjorn Stormtamer's world has been turned upside down in more ways than one. His shipmates have left him for dead on an island for quarantining victims of a disease that he now has. His partner in battle despises him, his family thinks he's dead and...
