Honor and Obligation

A Promise Made

     Zaak has been growing frail since that day. Even more so now that the others make war down in the valley. He hasn't spoke in months. He struggles to draw himself from bed. And even when he is able, he sits out front of this shack we have made residence in and refuses to move. Only once night has fallen is he able to be coaxed back into his bedding. I fear, more so with each passing day, that he will remain this way forever.

     I occasionally make my way down to a nearby village that has remained out of the conflict so far. It is a quaint little gathering that reminds me of my home back in my original life. The shops I frequent  are cheery and welcoming. All sorts peddle their wares and have wide enough selection to meet our needs. Zaak still takes meals. That much is a comfort. I think he hasn't quite given up yet.

     Yesterday, as we were turning in for the night, a courier came. The young girl passed us a letter penned by Vincent. We have kept in touch since the shattering. I open it and read it quietly to myself.

     "Sin, I appreciate your persistence in the matter. But as I have stated before I have no interest in wasting my aid on a living dead man. Should Zaak find the strength to come and request my cooperation himself, I will consider returning. But until that day My answer remains no."

     The rest of the letter is updates on the tide of battle and influence. So far He, Omega, Saedysm, and Alistair have been deadlocked. Neither able to earn much purchase against another without losing ground to one or both the others. Borders have all but settled. I considered throwing my lot in with them. I do believe I could rule. I could bring order. I could save this sleepy land from the horrors inflicted on it.

     A callous dream. Nothing more. In the end I am no better than my counterparts. I draw deep breathes as I meditate on it. Besides, supposing I did, what would become of Zaak? The deep gnawing bite of my pride urges me to champion him. It tells me that because no one else stayed it is I who must remain. Maybe the compulsion is true. Maybe I'm just yearning for purpose after having lost all else. I lie down. Zaak is already fast asleep. I will remain.

     Zaak refuses to leave his bed. Even worse he will not eat the dish I prepared for him this morning. He stares listlessly into the distance. Not reacting to my voice and barely noticing my touch. I shout. It does nothing. I shake him as hard as I can. He bobbles about weakly and then nothing once I stop. My anger pitches. I seize my sword and draw it from its scabbard raising it above my head. I'm not sure if it is just a threat or if I actually intend to remove his head. Zaak turns his attention to me at last. He regards the sword. Then offers up his neck. A scream chokes its way out of my lungs. I swing the sword and it cleaves the wall behind him in two. 

     Slamming the sword back into it's scabbard I storm out of the shack. I'm not sure where I'm going until I am in town. I know that I am making my way to gather the men of the village. We will make weapons. Armor. War. I am in the town square standing on the announcement platform. People have gathered. I must have stormed in well enough to garner curiosity at least. I will give a speech. Their hearts will alight with the fires of war. I will take that war to the others and return us all to order.

     My ambition is stopped cold. There are a number of children with wooden toy swords and helmets. Mothers fretfully soothe their youngest who cry out amidst the bustle of the markets. Men tend to work or watch me for what they aren't sure they should suspect. I know most everyone here by name. I hear Alistairs voice in the back of my mind. He would rage against this were he here. He would shout and fight and plead and I would relent. His bleeding heart would soften my resolve and we would find another way. I step down from the platform.

     I pass a woman on the way up to the shack. I give her a cautious quizzical glare as we pass. What reason does anyone have to come here? Then I sense it. Zaak. He's awoken from his stupor. I rush up to the shack and find him on his bed sipping a bone broth I had planned to use for dinner. He's eaten the rice and chicken I made for breakfast. I begin to speak.

     "Who was that?" I ask in wonder of how she might have achieved this.

     "Hope." Zaak answers plainly. A gentle yet wickedly sly grin pulls at the corner of his mouth. "Sin, I have a purpose to bestow upon you. If you are willing."

     I take to one knee and bow my head. "Of course. Simply say the words." He knew exactly what to say to me. I can feel the spark of his power flickering as he takes a long draw of the soup. He stands.

     "I am not strong enough to return the others. I've languished for far too long and the ebb of my power left me a mere shell." Zaak explains. "But you have not erred in your devotion. As such It must be you who does this task in my stead. You will go forth and reclaim my Core Existences. You will gather my scattered selves and make us whole again. This mission. This duty. This honorable obligation is my command and your purpose should you choose to undertake." 

     "I accept this task." I say affirming my fealty. Suddenly I feel an influx of power and authority. I look up half expecting him to have vanished. The look on my face must belie my usual confidence. I felt as though I had assimilated him. As though I had absorbed his will and claimed of his power for myself. Zaak smiles and sets back down on the bed. I realize what has happened. 

     Zaak himself, despite being the avatar of all our joined Wills is still counted among the six Core Existences. What has now found purchase in my heart is not the Zaak that is the avatar, but the undying fire of his enduring Will. The man before me is Zaakielo the being. The god. The man at the very root of all we are.

     "I will fulfill this purpose you have given me and return all our missing pieces. This I swear. This, I Promise."

     I gather my gear. Travelers clothes form my first life. A cloak and cape to keep the elements from me. A wide brimmed hat. And my sword. The katana slides into my sash like the innumerable times before.

     And I set out to bring all of my lost self home.