The Arena

The gods that don't exist

Although he didn't make any promises, Tellor kept Alera’s wish in his mind and didn't join the fights. And each day that followed, Alera would find her daggers staring at her in the changing room. She remembered the fondness with which the two blood elves soldiers talked about their original weapons and up until now, she couldn't comprehend how one could feel anything for a piece of metal, but in the last few days, she started to understand. But when Asendriel and Tellor spoke with attachment, as if talking about an old companion, she felt angst and displeasure for her daggers, because every time she saw their cold shine, she feared that she would be forced to fight Tellor in the arena. So every day she would try to spot him in the prisoners' groups and discreetly show him her weapons to warn him and to make sure he wouldn't try anything.

A day passed, then two, then three and each night they would reassure each other that Asendriel was alive and well, but with each day passing without any news, the words started to feel hollow.

‘I wanted to ask you something for some time, but I never had the chance.’, Alera said one night.

Almost a week had passed since Asendriel was taken away and she desperately needed something else to think about, to replace the thoughts of him. ‘Why do you dislike fighting?’

As soon as the words left her lips, she realised they sounded wrong. No one enjoys fighting. Even she detested it.

‘That's not what I meant!’, she quickly added and then proceeded to explain, while Tellor was waiting for her to finish.

‘I mean every time you had to fight, you had this sad look on your face, as if the world would crumble beneath your feet…’

Tellor remained quiet for a short period after and Alera suddenly felt like she had done something bad. She didn't know what was in his past or what shadow was creeping above him that made him feel or act like that.

‘I'm sorry!’, she added before the blood elf could answer. ‘I think I crossed a line. Please forget I ever asked.’

‘It’s alright’, he answered in a gentle voice. ‘I don’t mind. The answer is actually quite simple and it’s not like it was a secret.’

He took another pause, as if searching for his words, while stroking Alera’s fingers.

‘I’m a paladin’, he said simply. ‘And when I joined the Order of the Blood Knights I took an oath to serve the Light and the just causes. I swore to fight to protect my homeland and my brethren, not to destroy or kill needlessly. What I must do here goes against my teachings and my principles…’

‘But you went to war, did you not? Don’t tell me that you believe the killings that happen on the battlefield are justified…’
‘No. But I went because I wanted to protect my home and my family. Don’t believe that all who join the army do so just for the thrill of killing. Most of us join because we have to, because we have loved ones and we want to provide a better life for them. Because we are loyal to our   Reagent Lord and our legacy and culture. Because we want to survive.’

Alera’s thoughts went back to Asendriel and she wondered what was his reason for going to war. What was he protecting?

‘What is this light that you serve?’

‘This’, said Tellor and Alera could feel a warm sensation engulfing her palm. She looked and saw a faint white light washing over her fingers, as if coming straight out of Tellor’s hand. It was a peaceful sensation, if she could describe it. It was soothing. The light disappeared as soon as it appeared, to avoid attracting the guards’ attention.

‘The Light is simply Light. It’s the embodiment of everything that is good and pure in this world. It blesses us and guides us to be better than we are, protecting us from the evil that tries to cover our world.’

‘And where is your light now?’ she asked, her question sounding more harsh in the quietness of the dungeon than in her mind. She had heard of other gods and good entities that were supposed to protect their followers. But they all failed eventually.

‘I don’t follow.’, Tellor said slowly. He had stopped stroking her palm and the peaceful sensation that she felt earlier was gone. In its place, crept the coldness emanating from the stone floor.

‘Why didn’t your light protect you when you got captured by Baruing’s men?’

Tellor remained quiet, but Alera continued:

‘I know of other guardian entities as well. Where was Elune when her children, the night elves were dragged here? Where was she when Mi’lune was heading to Baruing’s chambers? Where were the Loa spirits when Baruing’s men captured Safina and brought her here? Where were the elements when Lorum had to fight in the arena? Where were the other gods when my family was killed??’

Alera realised she was trembling. She was angry. Angry and annoyed at all those made up gods and goddesses that only existed when their followers brought them gifts. That were present only when good things happened so that they could take credit. That demanded respect and glory unconditionally, in return for fake promises. That disappeared whenever something bad happened.

She stopped believing in these imaginary beings long ago, after she saw how ruthless the world could be to a mere child. She had no need for guardians, fake or real. Because if they were all real and they permitted the heinous crimes that took place in the arena, they were far more evil and did not deserve any recognition.

‘Why did the light permit you two to arrive in this horrible place?...’, she added in a small whisper.

Tellor gripped her shaking hand, covering it with his other palm. 

‘Maybe it brought us here to find you.’

His hands were big and warm and she started calming down. She felt her cheeks burning mildly.

‘I’m sorry.’ she said softly, pinning her eyes on the stone floor. She felt horrible.

‘I’m sorry, I went too far.’ she added, gripping his hand back.

‘It’s alright, I understand.’