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The cheerful summer sun gently embraced the green canopies of the mighty forest. Breaking through the lush foliage, carefree rays of light softly caressed the tired faces of the warriors, stained with mud, sweat, and dried blood. The travelers carefully descended to a small forest stream in a gentle lowland. The swift waterway, struggling to find its path across the sandy bottom, was bordered by banks of thick grass and low scrub. The merry chirping of birds, the sound of a light breeze, and the lively melody of other forest creatures allowed them not to worry about betraying their presence to a potential enemy, and so, for the first time in recent days, the warriors were able to breathe a bit easier.
—Quite a skirmish, eh? — Tao's friend finally murmured, his reflection playing cheerfully in the noisy currents of the transparent water.
—Cowardly bastards. — Tao cursed, then drank greedily from the river.
—But they can be understood. — the friend noted, filling an empty flask.
—Only disgraceful nobodies attack from ambush and take hostages. — Tao stood his ground firmly.
Having washed in the clean water, the servants of the goddess marched with quick but cautious steps along the riverbank through the parting Grove. The carefree nature surrounding them inspired peace and tranquility, but both knew that it was precisely in such places that the most dangerous traps were often to be expected.
—But tell me, friend Tao, would we not have done the same? — meanwhile, the warrior's companion continued the conversation. His voice dissolved like a quiet echo into the forest clamor.
—A worthy warrior of the Goddess would never disgrace his own name! — Tao struck his chest with his fist menacingly. — Dignity is strength, and strength is right.
—If all of Ira's servants thought this way, soon there would be none of them left. — his interlocutor smirked. — The goddess's teachings do not simply teach one to act "strong." They teach how to recognize the strong. To recognize, respect, and strive to reach their level.
—Your words sound like the excuses of a weakling. — Tao snorted with slight contempt, kicking a twig lying in his path.
—But the entire army culture is built upon these words, my friend. If every soldier contradicted and argued with their commander, they would all meet a single end.
Tao remained silent, and his friend continued:
—Now imagine two warring countries: one fights with dignity and courage, while the other fights with cunning and malice. In the end, the second side wins. So, who in the end was stronger than the other?
—The one that won, of course... I mean, khm, it's certainly unfair, but... — unable to complete the thought, Tao fell silent.
—If you had read Ira's teachings, you would know that there is not a word in them about what a "strong" person should look like. So, where does strength lie, brother?
Tao was silent again, mechanically running his palm over the scabbard of his Roman sword.
—... And where does weakness lie, Tao? The teachings say that the weak are less than human, the weak are animals. But does Ira teach us to humiliate defenseless and mindless beasts? Did you not protect a kitten from the village bullies? You do not place the weak on your level not because you must hate them, but because you take responsibility for their lives.
—Where are you leading with this? — Tao asked, confused.
—Did we not set out for Aeolia to protect the weak and the downtrodden? Is this not the true goal for a servant of the Goddess? To survive and become stronger, but not for one's own ambitions or notions of honor and valor. But because the stronger you become, the more of the weak you have the "right" to protect. And only when no one dares to dispute this right will you truly win. Win as a warrior and as a human.
—... This is all too complicated for me. — Tao finally spoke slowly.
—Do not deceive yourself, in your soul you know I am right. — the confident words of his friend echoed in his mind. — As long as a noble goal lives in your heart, defeat must not be the end, and death must not be a desired reward. As long as your existence can save the lives of your comrades and the people who trusted you, you have no right to act like a smug fool who only wishes to return to the earth as soon as possible.
At these words, Tao turned to his friend, but saw only the dark silhouette of his own shadow in the middle of the deserted thicket.
Tao stood on the edge of the black forest, tightly clutching a broken medallion in his hand. His soul was torn apart by anger and pain, but he could only helplessly swallow his own rage. He had recognized the strength of the demonic bandits, and thus realized his own insignificance. He could have died bravely, could have personally ended his disgraced life, could have at least severed his own wrist or gouged out an eye as punishment for the shame he endured, but all of this would have weakened their squad; it would have decreased the chances of the downtrodden Aeolians to be liberated. His warrior's heart ceased to belong to him alone; he involuntarily became a willless instrument of the Goddess to achieve a higher, noble goal. And how much is one disgraced soul worth against thousands of peaceful lives at stake?
Now Tao had only one option: to use the experience he had gained to turn his weakness into strength. And this was exactly what he intended to devote all his time to.
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Arandor
