sounded like something he would do.
"I am most curious as to why you would think that, Milady," the Crusader mused. "In fact, to be honest, I do not quite understand the divide between our two camps. Do we not have the same goals?"
"The devil is in the details. Epic would level a village to save a city." Thwarted and sour-feeling, I relented to my body's jabs of pain and crawled on top of the second infirmary bed.
"Methinks you exaggerate a tad," Archer offered with uncertainty. "Sometimes, yes, the greater good requires sacrifice but -"
"If we hadn't done something in Washington, he would have been happy to level the city fighting Reaper. If that doesn't tell you something, what will?" Archer stroked his thin, swashbuckler mustache thoughtfully.
"I certainly don't know for I was not there," he argued. "Even if what you say was true, that is an extreme situation. Months have passed and there has been nothing like that since." I let out a derisive snort.
"How can someone smart enough to make that suit be so stupid? History repeats itself." I glanced at the archer. "You can't tell me that your group's tactics haven't been a bit, oh, excessive? I'm sure you've killed a Pushcrook or two with that thing."
"I, well, yes," he glanced at the folded bow on his gauntlet. "It was necessary. Innocents would have died if I had not acted."
"I find it hard to imagine a situation where someone absolutely must die. What problem had to be solved by death when a subdued bad guy won't do?"
"A curious thought," Archer nodded slowly. "Instincts in the heat of battle don't always let us ponder that. Sometimes, we just act."
"Instincts don't absolve a person of responsibility."
"Instincts aren't always wrong." My incessant questioning made Archer bristle. "As analysis of my moral fiber seems to be your aim, let us turn the glaring light around then, shall we?"
"Sure, fire away," I said, leaning my head back to stare at the ceiling. "Do your worst." Really, what could a Crusader who had already admitted to killing a few people really bring to bear on the morality front?
"Verily then, I will." He seemed full of certainty as he stood next to the bed. "Why dost thou hate the Pushed then?" The question stung as I opened my eyes to glance at him.
"Where would you even get that from?" Rationally, I certainly denied the statement but there was something about it that made me uneasy. "It seems all I've been doing since the Whiteout is fighting for Pushed rights. It's been Pushed, Pushed, Pushed."
"Dost thou not hear the resentment in thy voice?" he pondered. "What I find most curious is that you have this ill-will in your heart towards something that you are a part of." I forced myself up on my elbows.
"I am not Pushed," I declared. "I'm a normal human caught up in this mess." I could tell he was holding back laughter for etiquette’s sake and I couldn't blame him. The blatant denial of what was fact was obvious even to me, the denier.
"I can see by the look in thine eyes that I need not recount a dozen events just this one day that counter your statement. Pushed, you may not be, but you are not normal." He made a surprisingly derisive laugh. "Would a normal woman hold any appeal for Lord Epic? What of your leader? I cannot mistake the looks he gives you to be nothing other than adoration. Even I myself, despite the dishonor it would bring, cannot deny that you stir something in my knightly soul." In one fell swoop, Archer had cut out the legs of my superior morality and, for no good reason, built them back up again.
"Hold it right there, cowboy," I argued as I now sat up straight, pain be damned. "Whatever the hell I am, it doesn't matter when people like you look down on the normal people. Not three months ago you were just like every other person on this planet, dealing with the same problems. Hell, your life was easier. It's not like you had to
"I am most curious as to why you would think that, Milady," the Crusader mused. "In fact, to be honest, I do not quite understand the divide between our two camps. Do we not have the same goals?"
"The devil is in the details. Epic would level a village to save a city." Thwarted and sour-feeling, I relented to my body's jabs of pain and crawled on top of the second infirmary bed.
"Methinks you exaggerate a tad," Archer offered with uncertainty. "Sometimes, yes, the greater good requires sacrifice but -"
"If we hadn't done something in Washington, he would have been happy to level the city fighting Reaper. If that doesn't tell you something, what will?" Archer stroked his thin, swashbuckler mustache thoughtfully.
"I certainly don't know for I was not there," he argued. "Even if what you say was true, that is an extreme situation. Months have passed and there has been nothing like that since." I let out a derisive snort.
"How can someone smart enough to make that suit be so stupid? History repeats itself." I glanced at the archer. "You can't tell me that your group's tactics haven't been a bit, oh, excessive? I'm sure you've killed a Pushcrook or two with that thing."
"I, well, yes," he glanced at the folded bow on his gauntlet. "It was necessary. Innocents would have died if I had not acted."
"I find it hard to imagine a situation where someone absolutely must die. What problem had to be solved by death when a subdued bad guy won't do?"
"A curious thought," Archer nodded slowly. "Instincts in the heat of battle don't always let us ponder that. Sometimes, we just act."
"Instincts don't absolve a person of responsibility."
"Instincts aren't always wrong." My incessant questioning made Archer bristle. "As analysis of my moral fiber seems to be your aim, let us turn the glaring light around then, shall we?"
"Sure, fire away," I said, leaning my head back to stare at the ceiling. "Do your worst." Really, what could a Crusader who had already admitted to killing a few people really bring to bear on the morality front?
"Verily then, I will." He seemed full of certainty as he stood next to the bed. "Why dost thou hate the Pushed then?" The question stung as I opened my eyes to glance at him.
"Where would you even get that from?" Rationally, I certainly denied the statement but there was something about it that made me uneasy. "It seems all I've been doing since the Whiteout is fighting for Pushed rights. It's been Pushed, Pushed, Pushed."
"Dost thou not hear the resentment in thy voice?" he pondered. "What I find most curious is that you have this ill-will in your heart towards something that you are a part of." I forced myself up on my elbows.
"I am not Pushed," I declared. "I'm a normal human caught up in this mess." I could tell he was holding back laughter for etiquette’s sake and I couldn't blame him. The blatant denial of what was fact was obvious even to me, the denier.
"I can see by the look in thine eyes that I need not recount a dozen events just this one day that counter your statement. Pushed, you may not be, but you are not normal." He made a surprisingly derisive laugh. "Would a normal woman hold any appeal for Lord Epic? What of your leader? I cannot mistake the looks he gives you to be nothing other than adoration. Even I myself, despite the dishonor it would bring, cannot deny that you stir something in my knightly soul." In one fell swoop, Archer had cut out the legs of my superior morality and, for no good reason, built them back up again.
"Hold it right there, cowboy," I argued as I now sat up straight, pain be damned. "Whatever the hell I am, it doesn't matter when people like you look down on the normal people. Not three months ago you were just like every other person on this planet, dealing with the same problems. Hell, your life was easier. It's not like you had to
Similar Books
