Spring 4989, 09 Kuromoth
Shon buried his face in his knees without hearing the Major General's answer. It didn't matter, he already knew. It was him, he wasn't worthy. It had been made abundantly clear during the vigil that he wasn't good enough. Yet there had to be something specific. Something fundamental to his being, that couldn't be changed or developed as he continued to grow as a Paladin. After all, no one was perfect. They'd been taught since the beginning that Hengist knew even their faults, and that they could overcome them with his divine guidance... Once they were accepted as Paladins.
Shon could hear the Priests and Paladin chanting, but was too absorbed in his own self-loathing to comprehend what it might mean. Was it his cold dispassion when fighting? Even killing? Should he have felt something more then? Was it his desires and fantasies? He knew they were less than honorable. But he never intended to play them out anywhere but in his mind.
A hand landed on his shoulder and Shon flinched violently, looking up again to see Major General Selibra kneeling before him, glowing faintly blue at the edges. "Come on, Squi- Shon..." He whispered in the silence of the cell.
The Cleric squeezed past them to retrieve Shon's sword. He was glowing too. Shon looked past the Paladin to see the other priests haloed in faint light, and shivering. Ice grew thick on the stone floor of the chapel, raiding out of his cell. Out of him. Their prayers had been for protection. Protection from him.
Was that it? Was it his ice that made him unworthy? He was a danger to everyone around him, even with the sealing item. His mental anguish had overloaded its capacity to absorb his magic.
The Major General shook him, "I'm so sorry... I know it hurts, try and pull it in, we'll get through this."
He knew? How could he possibly know? He'd exposed himself as Shon had, and had been accepted. Forgiven. Shon could practically feel the cracks in his soul seeping life. Broken. Just like all his efforts and dreams. Shattered, never to be reknitted again.
The Cleric and Paladin of the only god Shon had ever identified with -loved- pulled him to his feet, gently guiding him out of the cell. Master Daunas and Smith Nangran stood in the chapel doorway, shivering as the ice continued to spread toward them. Had his cold filled the entire fortress?
Shon was hurting them, even now he was proving that he'd never been worthy. Zihler's words from over two years ago came floating back to him, "Shon's cold is uncomfortable, like trying to hold onto ice with bare hands, but it doesn't hurt. Well, maybe if you hold on too long, it might eventually, but I figured you'd just go numb first..."
Numb... The ice followed his emotions. It would be better to be numb than to feel this. To feel anything.
Taking a deep breath he tried to pull the power in, wrapping his bleeding heart and soul in ice. Numb... better to be numb...
The ice slowed but didn't melt and Daunas and Nangran braved it to make their way into the chapel to Shon's side as Selibra and the Cleric sat him in the front pew. Numb, emotionless...
The command spoke in whispers around him as Shon stared unseeing at the altar of Hengist, slowly being encased in frost, while his mind attacked him like no opponent before.
"What happened?" Daunas asked.
Wasn't it obvious? Shouldn't it have always been obvious? Even before he awoke as a Sorcerer, but especially after...
"Infirmary," Nangran suggested in his terse way.
What could they possibly do there? No one could heal a broken soul. He'd probably just corrupt it with his presence. Just as he was corrupting this holy place, a place he'd always found comfort.
"We can't leave him alone." the Cleric argued.
Alone? He was already alone. Would always be alone. The gods themselves had rejected him.
"He's right... he might..." Selibra's voice had dropped further, but not far enough.
Might... what? What could he possibly do? There was nothing left. No future. A pointless, wasted past. He was irredeemable. Shon had seen his sins, all of them, they remained vivid in his mind, while his accomplishments faded to nothing.
"But suicide, Selibra? Shon would never-" Daunas started weakly and Selibra shot a glare at the Weaponmaster that had Daunas taking a step back.
The ice began to melt as Shon solidified the shield around his heart. He felt nothing, finally numb. He knew what he had to do, what he should have done years ago...
He might as well. He was already dead. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ryuuko squawked in distress, and Shon closed his eyes. His death would mean the death of the little dragon, and the pseudodragon had done nothing wrong, not like Shon. And yet Shon continued to convince himself that he felt nothing, and prayed. Let me die. If he wasn't good enough then just let him die... that way he wouldn't endanger anyone else. And he could see Hengist, ask the god directly what had made him unworthy.
Someone knelt before him and Shon focused on Master Daunas's face.
"It's alright, son..."
No, it wasn't, but it would be. It would only take a moment...
"You're still the strongest warrior I've ever had the pleasure of training..."
Yes, Shon had seen that too, he was a strong warrior, good only for killing. Well, there was only one more death left to cause...
"Not everyone is meant to be a Paladin..."
Obviously...
"You can still serve the cause of good. Like old man V..."
"Serve..." Shon whispered, and whatever else Daunas was going to say faded off as Shon's eyes shifted back to the altar. That was it, that was how he would get these men of honor to leave him alone. "I swore an oath to serve... that's still true," Shon said, his voice as dead as his soul.
Shon stood, looking around at the command, who all took a step back from whatever they saw in his cold emotionless eyes. "I'll serve." Shon said, "I swore an oath to the Temple, and Hengist, to serve. That's still true."
Selibra looked to the Cleric, and the kindly man cleared his throat, "I'm sorry, Shon..."
Was that all anyone could say? He didn't want their pity. He didn't deserve it. He deserved this. That was all. Now if they could only let him do the last honorable thing left to him...
"You should-"
"Enlist," Shon interrupted, and they all went quiet again, "I'll enlist. I'll return to Smilnda tonight. Now."
"You-" Selibra started, then stopped as Shon closed his eyes and turned his face away.
"Don't make me stay here... Please," he whispered. Not only did Shon not want to wait, he didn't know how well his shield would hold against the pain trying to beat its way out of his chest. This had been his home, his hope. He couldn't face the other Squires again. Thom... Rerves... They would exit their cells at dawn as new Paladins. And Shon? He would only taint their achievement.
The command were whispering to each other again, "He can't be alone..."
But Nangran spoke up louder, "I'll go." Shon opened his eyes to see the Smith nod at him, "I have errands in the city anyway." Shon looked away. Oh well, the Smith would have to sleep sometime. The road to Smilnda was the safest in Clearhelm, Nangran would be fine making it without him.
Sir Selibra sighed, turning his back on all of them to face the altar. Silence stretched, broken only by the steady drip of ice melting from Hengist's raised sword. Finally, the Major General nodded. Without looking at them he said, "Very well. You can take the priests' horses to speed your way."
Shon snapped to attention and saluted the Paladin, who flinched at the sight as he turned, but returned the gesture. Without another word, Shon made an about-face and marched for the chapel doors.
But he still wasn't alone, Master Daunas followed, speaking once they were in the hall, "I'll come with you to your room, son..."
Shon couldn't even feel annoyed, he nodded, then turned for the stairs to his dorm for the last time. He wouldn't need any of his belongings, but if it made them more comfortable to think he was actually going to make it to the city then so be it.
