Rituals, Regrets, and Really Dumb People

Chapter 2: The River--Eh--Not-So-Red, Part 1

The trip so far has been rather quiet. We were heading north from the central mountains, towards my castle, Brutality. You know, thinking about it, maybe I should give it a better name; how about Murder Incorporated? Larynx Crusher Central? Red Hills? Bleh, thinking about it, all those names are terrible and—truth be told—I kind of don't want to think about murder right now.

There was an air of failure all around us—each and every one of us—in the march. No one bothered talking to me since we left; everyone felt defeated, as they should have felt. All for the better, I suppose. I had too much on my mind to worry about, too much going on in my brain. I began thinking of new things that simply hadn't bothered me before the priestess cursed me and I let the kid go.

I began to question things. An example? Was it right for me to crush the plebeian masses? For the longest time I had said yes, they were disposable automatons who never critically questioned their lots in life. They were peasants and foot soldiers at best, a means to an end, a small pile of corpses to climb to get to the top. Now, suddenly, I can place myself in their shoes with a sort of emotional clarity. What if some wizard just came down from his mountain and began shooting lightning bolts at you? Would really ruin your day, wouldn't it? I know it'd ruin mine if I hadn't studied and amassed all these spells and resources.

Or, well, how about this. Was it right for me to resurrect Stitches? You may think so at first glance, that my cat died unnaturally, but he came back a rotting, festering corpse. I've had him for nearly over a decade and a half now; he even came over on the boat with me when they dropped us off on Carcer. I have—some vestigial love for him. But was it morally right for me to do that?

What about killing my master? What about rejecting my parents? Sending men to die? Worshiping an evil goddess? Tax fraud? Murdering bards? Ghosting my only friend as a teenag—

"Master."

My thoughts broke up quickly as I turned my head to my right. The march had stopped so the men could rest, and it seems Jo has decided to annoy me. Well goody-fuckin'-gumdrops, it's not like I had problems beforehand, now I got all this shit in my head and I can't properly express it or think it out. She's just got to give me more problems. She probably wants more funds for the engineering department. I—I shouldn't let this annoy me; she doesn't know. She's never rejected a command or let me down before. I need to control myself.

"Yes, Josephine?" I asked.

"Josephine, master?" she asked me. "You've never called me Josephine before."

"Sorry, I have a lot on my mind." And then some. "What can I do for you?"

"Do you want me to issue the command to head out? I know you hate when the men stop for break."

I felt appalled. What if they were hungry? Thirsty? We had time. "Let them enjoy themselves a moment. How long until we get to the castle?"

"Three hours, tops. Master?"

"Yeah, Jose—Jo?"

"Are you sick? You're not acting like your normal self."

"How do you mean?"

"Calling me Josephine, the fact you never call Brutality 'castle.' You always enjoy saying that word. You're even letting the men take a break, you never let that happen."

"I just—my head is flying from losing the Seal." I'm getting too comfortable with lying now, it makes me sick. "It's a lot to deal with."

"Mind if I share my mind on the subject?"

"Sure."

"Kind of glad you failed, sir."

I looked at her with my bunched eyebrows. The statement kind of socked me in the gut. "You're glad I failed?"