Filthy Mess

Zariah sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose for a moment, eyes fluttering closed as she tried to reign her temper in. ”That you are in your twenty-second year, and you cannot yet wrap your mind around the methods of our family that have been refined over generations, what makes you think that I can bring clarity to it for you?” she said with an exasperated sigh, looking back up at him with a glare. ”Over centuries, we were bred to fight at the behest of the king, as you well know. We were his mightiest of warriors, implements of death and destruction, sent into the most violent and dangerous of engagements. How do you prepare your children and siblings and cousins for inevitable torture and suffering at the hands of an enemy who cares not if you die? Who would do anything to weasel out whatever information they can from you?” she waited for a moment, wondering if perhaps it might click into place for him. Why did the Launceleyns torture their own? Why were they seemingly needlessly cruel in the pursuit of strength? ”We were tasked with conditioning ourselves to survive hell and use it to empower us to crush our enemies, making the ultimate of sacrifices for our people every day of our lives. Our family trains the way we do so we would survive, not just physically, but mentally. And it is why we value our loyalty so much, why we bend out of our way to protect our own. No one else would protect us, for we were the ultimate protectors, and no one else in the world understood the sacrifice we made for them.” That she had to put it so plainly to him was like a knife between her ribs, but it did not show on her face. That he thought he needed to point out how messed up it was that they existed this way was insulting. No one, she included, had ever been blind to it, but instead banded together to support their fellow Launceleyn, the family who sacrificed everything for a people and crown who saw them as nothing more than a weapon. As for the rest of his little speech, his excuses and technicalities and twisting of metaphors for his purpose – she had addressed it all in what she said, as far as she was concerned. But when he brought up war, and the lack thereof, she stared at him in shock, near horror. How blind was he really? ”There is no oath, yes, but do not pretend that there is no threat.” she said lowly, a short, unamused laugh bubbling up at the pure absurdity of it. ”There are gods and forces here the likes of Northwind and Northaven never knew, prepping to go to war with each other again as we speak. The people in this world are one passive insult away from rioting at any given moment because the world has changed and they don’t like it. War is inevitable. And we can choose to either be prepared, or watch those we love die for it.” she said, pressing her lips together. ”Think whatever ills you wish of me, Loren, but I will always choose to stand and protect my family, and see them prepare to stand should I fall.” zariah If my strength intimidates you, I hope you realize that is a weakness of yours.