Book One: Fate
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Chapter Nine: Morality
Voices echoed in and out of coherency, seemingly from all around him. They sounded angry, like they were arguing over something or about someone. Some words seemed to make sense to his disorientated ears.
“What the hell did the old man set up these kids for? Setting up the whole wreckage wasn’t worth the rubbish they were carrying!”
“…Yes, but people are scared to travel. These are the first in a while, they will have to do.”
“…Should have just killed them out in the field…”
“No, the old man said a Hunter was after us, we have to be extra careful.”
The voices got lower and lower in volume as consciousness once again began to slip away, into a restless dream.
Zan never did wait for Tylor to get up to travel outside of the village to train. He had missed a lot of chances because of his sleeping in and it seemed to get worse the older he got. Still, whenever he did manage to get up and follow his father to the hill he would be happy to train with his son. He had asked on more than one occasion for his father to keep getting him up, but he always answered that he had to make the effort, not him.
On the hill, his father stood as he always did, moving in a strange stance of his own design and looking out over the sea, towards the sun. Lowering his pose when he saw his son clamber his way up the hill with tired eyes, he laughed at him.
“This is the first time in about two weeks that you have managed to get up at this time, it’s no wonder you are barely awake.”
Too tired to really say anything, Tylor nodded and rubbed his eyes. Telling him to sit down for a while until he woke up, his father pointed to the large tree next to them. Tylor sat down and leaned his back against its trunk.
Returning to his training, his father asked how Tylor’s studies and other things were going. The studies were boring him, it was natural, but had to be done - which his father probably knew. He had made some knew friends as well while he was out playing a few days ago, especially one kid who was a few years younger than him, he made him laugh a lot. His name was Joel. They had met outside the bakers.
“…Oh,” his father said, stopping his training again, “Dawson’s boy… Yes, he certainly is full of life, that one.”
His father twisted on the spot, striking out with fists, and then returning to his relaxed pose, before raising his leg and striking it out. Tylor watched in awe. Asking to be taught how to do such skillful and fierce movements, his father explained that it was not the kind of thing he could learn yet and maybe when he was a bit older. It was always the same excuse even when he managed to get up on time; when he was older.
Tylor’s eyes slowly opened. He hurt all over, but the pain was particularly sore where his large bruise was. Everything around him was a blur, he could not distinguish between objects or people, but he could hear voices again from somewhere around him. Wherever he was it was very cold and damp. It felt like he was lying against a rock face and the room stank of pungent water. The sharp corners of the rock were hurting his back, sticking into him and piercing his shirt. He suddenly realized he was no longer wearing his armor that Karen had bought him in Cattra. He also discovered, as more senses returned, that his hands were bound behind his back with what felt like thin, but tight, rope. His knees and legs were bound also. Struggling as best he could in his weakened state only seemed to cause him more pain. The voices seemed to stop as he did it, as they noticed him. Though his vision had not returned he felt they were standing around him or at least very close.
“This ones waking up, must be the pain that’s doing it,” a squeaking voice said from somewhere. “Still, it’s not as bad as that little wench, had to knock her out at least six times, right? The sooner the boss gets back, the sooner we get to rid ‘o these kids.”
So what now stood around him was the ‘monster’ that people had been scared of. Could it really have just been a band of people using the rumors of a beast to rob and murder travelers? Had everyone been that gullible?
They certainly had been.
One of the people, most likely from the group at the wreckage, grabbed him by the neck. Pushing his head closer to the hard wall behind, he began cursing at him and calling him names. Tylor’s vision was returning, so he could make out the face directly in front of him; it was one of the men he assaulted back at the cart wreckage.
The room too, had become clearer, it did seem to be some sort of cave, but other than that he had no idea where he was. It did not look like anywhere close to the road they had been traveling along. Some tables, chairs, and a fire were the only other things he could pick out.
He struggled against the person holding his neck, but his binds and the pain made it impossible to fight back. He could only sit and listen to the man spouting abuse at him. A female voice from somewhere in the room told him to stop until their boss returned. The high pitched squeaking voice also asked him to calm down. The grip around his neck was released and the man wandered back somewhere else in the room.
Looking to his sides, Karen and Joel lay next to him, their hands and legs similarly bound. Joel lay up against the wall like Tylor, but Karen’s head was on the floor. Neither of them seemed to be awake and he was in to much pain to try to move. There was nothing that could be done, it seemed hopeless.
So is this how it’s going to end for me? This doesn’t seem right. I thought fate had something greater planned for me…I thought I was going to see my mother… I knew it was all lies…
Time passed, he could not be sure how long exactly. Tylor was sure there was an exit to the structure they were in now. It was somewhere to his left. Cold air was blown in from that direction, but no hole was visible to him.
Joel mumbled and began moving about, his eyes trying to open, but finding it hard. It looked as though he was waking up in pain as well. He seemed to come to his senses a bit faster than Tylor had and began pulling at his bounds frantically, before he noticed Tylor next to him. The kid looked scared, but more shocked when he looked over to him. It must have been the blood and cuts on his face from when he was beaten that had shocked his young friend, his face certainly did hurt, so it must have looked bad.
“Two of them are up, two of them are up!” the small, weedy, voice called.
Someone, another man, knelt down between the two boys and told them not to try anything stupid. The man seemed to be stroking what looked like a knife in one of his hands. There was nothing they could do, anyway. Tylor was too hurt to try to snap the rope and even if it was quite thin, the chances of Joel being able to break them were slim. Getting angry at Joel not paying attention, the man grabbed him and pushed his head, barely missing the sharp rock behind.
“Leave him alone!” Tylor cried. “He’s just woken up, it’s not his fault.”
A punch to the jaw was his only reply. The people in the room all seemed to laugh, laughing at his pain. To his left, Karen stirred. She did not move her body, but was breathing swifter than before. Her eyes slowly opened. Looking up at Tylor, he stared at her. She began looking around the room as best she could without letting on she was awake to the group. She surveyed the room before slowly rolling onto her back. Beneath her, her hands suddenly parted as she snapped the rope. Tylor was amazed. Trying his own binds again, they were too tight round the skin for him to be able to do it. It was possible that they put hers on looser.
Reaching behind her once again, Karen pulled out a small blade. It was not her dagger, just a small bit of sharp metal with leather wrapped round one end. It had to have been concealed on the back of her belt and seemed to be specifically there to undo bound hands. Pulling her legs round, she managed to cut off the knee bounds before anyone noticed, but as she reached for the legs one of the people on the room called out.
As quickly as she could, she cut the ankle bounds and leaped up, punching the first person to reach her. They fell backwards as she knocked them to the floor. The man who had sat between Joel and Tylor charged at her, but she grabbed the hand he was holding the knife in as he did and pulled it out of his grip. Spinning as she did it, she passed it to her other hand and stabbed him in the back with it. His body flopped to the floor beside her as she readied herself for the next person. The bloody knife still sat dripping in her hand.
Two others attacked her and one was the owner of the small squeaking weedy voice. It was a creature the same as the one they had seen in Cattra, with the strange ridges and curves on their face and the slightly bent over smaller stature than a man. The taller man knocked Karen back and tossed the knife out of her hand. It fell to the floor, away from her reach, as they tackled her to the ground. A swift punch knocked one of them off her. The other she rolled around on the floor with until she was on top and then punched that one as well.
“You little bitch, stop or this one dies!” shouted one of the women.
She was standing next to Joel, holding a knife across his throat. Tylor sat next to them, unable to help. Looking to Karen, she looked him in the eyes and then at Joel, who was crying. She looked back at Tylor one last time. Sighing, she lowered her guard as two others joined the two she had punched, as they assaulted her. As she fell to the floor, Tylor saw her bite her lip as they struck her, refusing to cry out.
“Showed your true colors there didn’t you, proves all Lis are weak!” one man shouted to the weedy fellow.
“Lucky punch, it was a lucky punch, lucky punch!” he responded, in his high pitched tone.
“What’s going on here?!” a voice suddenly called from the west.
A tall man in black stood in the doorway. Upon seeing him, all the group of attackers stopped and stood still. Commanding them to stop acting like idiots, he pointed to Karen and told them to toss her over to where Tylor and Joel were. The woman who was holding the knife to Joel’s throat slowly backed away, concealing the weapon. Karen was thrown onto Tylor, knocking him sideways into Joel. Trying to pick herself up from Tylor’s legs, she coughed hard. Red droplets fell to the ground below her mouth as she did it. Tylor could only stare, wide eyed, at the blood.
How could this happen? What have we done to them? How can they be so heartless? He thought, how could this happen, how could this happen, how could this happen…I don’t want to die.
The man in black, seemingly the boss that they had spoken of, walked slowly into the room. He did not seem to care about the body of one of his group sitting in a pool of their own blood and sat down at a table across the room from the trio.
“We only needed their belongings and to get them off the road so the Hunter would not find us, I do not recall telling you to beat them to death,” the man in black said.
The Lis of the group piped up, asking if they were still going to take care of the kids. The man in black nodded slowly, but reiterated it was not going to be as painful as a beating. Another pointed to the man Karen had killed.
“It was his own fault,” the boss said, calmly. “Remove that body, burn it outside - on the road in fact. He can be the Beast of Wex’s latest victim.”
Walking over to the three captives, he apologized to them.
“I am sorry, but this is our trade. Our contact in the bar at Cattra did not tell me that you were only children, but now that you have seen our operation I cannot let you live. I promise to make it as painless as possible. I will respect any burial rites you wish carried out.”
The man seemed to be looking directly at Tylor. He had sympathetic eyes, despite the fact he had just informed them that they would die. Something had gone terribly wrong. It could not really be how it would end for them. It was not right. He turned to Joel, who was sobbing to himself. He had failed to protect him, failed Samantha, and broken his promise.
A shout from outside startled everyone. Suddenly, there was a small sound of something clicking. A few split seconds later the man in black was falling to his side with a dart stuck firmly into the side of his head. In the direction of the doorway stood another man, grasping what must be a small crossbow in his right hand. In his other he held a long staff, only slightly smaller than his total height. The group of bandits reached for weapons from the tables around them.
The attacker ran past them all and leapt up over a table and across to the trio of captives. Looking quickly at Joel and Tylor then feeling the side of Karen’s neck he pulled back and dropped the crossbow to his feet and then grasped the staff in both hands. Karen stirred and rolled off of Tylor, allowing him to see the figure in front of him perfectly. It was Leon Sansec, the man from Cattra. Telling them to set themselves free, he passed a knife to Karen and told them to try to escape once he cleared the exit.
The bandits had not attacked yet. They seemed very weary of Leon, possibly because they knew he was a Demon Hunter and that commanded respect, or fear. At the same time, however, they did not run even though they could have, as the exit was on their side. They out numbered him and maybe they thought that was enough to beat him.
“Let’s go,” Leon said.
Jumping a few steps forward, he spun grasping the staff in one hand and smacked one of the advancing men, who was some distance away from him, directly across the face. Returning to his previous stance of holding his weapon in both hands, he beckoned them to attack. Striking out left and right one bandit to each of his sides fell back. Another in front of him slashed forward with his sword, but Leon immediately deflected it, buckling it from the bandit’s hand and leaving his body open to attack. A swift strike with the end of Leon’s staff dropped that one to the floor as well.
Meanwhile, Karen had freed Tylor and Joel from their binds. Tylor told Joel to go into the corner furthest from the fight for now until a path could be cleared out. Tylor could not stand up, the pain in his legs and sides were too much. Instead, he lay back down and told Karen to make sure Joel would be kept safe. Joel kneeled down in the corner, head hidden in his knees with his hands over his ears. Karen ran forwards and grabbed one of the bandits who was standing back up after taking a blow from Leon’s staff. Grabbing one round the neck, she pulled her arms sideways, causing a loud cracking sound. The now lifeless body fell at her feet.
While the fighting went on Joel and Tylor remained still. Joel kept his eyes tightly clasped shut and Tylor watched Karen and Leon fight with their former captures. Both of them were dealing fatal blows, killing people. It scared him that Karen could do such a thing. She was much more aggressive and powerful than when Tai had confronted them on the Sparda. This was a side of her he did not like, a side of her personality which could kill people.
The room, or long cave (as it now seemed to be), that they had been trapped in had become a room of death. Dead bodies littered the ground, scattered over tables and chairs with blood gurgling out from fresh open wounds and slash marks over their body. It was sickening. Leon and Karen returned to Tylor and Joel. Both of the boys were now watching them.
Tylor noticed that both ends of Leon’s staff had sharp metal points which he had not noticed before. They seemed too retract as he twisted a central point of it, concealing them within the hard polished wood with black finish that it was made out of.
The pain was getting worse and consciousness was coming and going, things were being said but Tylor could not hear every word.
“Your friend is hurt and Cattra is closer than Wex, you don’t have a choice,” a voice said. “Collect your things, but leave anything which does not belong to you. Let’s go.”
The darkness took over the light and then all was silent.
The room was black, as usual. No fog this time, which was strange. The voice, too, did not seem to be there this time. It was just empty. That was a good thing, as in the sleepless state he was now in it gave him time to think. To think over what had taken place in front of him.
Cold blooded murder.
Is it not what you wished on Tai?
This voice was different than the other; it was a strong, deep, manly voice. It was much lower sounding than his voice or even someone like his father, who did have a booming voice at times. This voice did not sound like it was from within him or around him either, it was simply, there. There was something menacing and aggressive about this male voice that froze him to the spot and he could not help but listen as it continued to speak.
So despondent about seeing death happen before you, yet you wish it on another? Is that not somewhat hypocritical of you?
No mention of destiny, or the Center Point, nothing that had been spoke of before, except Tai. It was strange, just like the female voice, but this voice seemed uncaring and demanding in tone. It spoke questions like they were orders and almost gave him no time to even think of an answer before speaking another. It was as if whoever was speaking did not care what answers he had, only that he heard the questions.
Did it not appeal to you? It should, for these paths that are laid out before you are coated in the blood of others. This path of bodies that trails behind you and the lingering shadow of more to come, it is… magnificent.
The things it was saying made no sense, but angered him all the same. Was this thing implying that the deaths of the bandits were also his fault, like the deaths on the Sparda? Maybe this was his own guilt talking to him? It would explain why it sounded so fierce. He had already silently blamed himself, but would not admit it out loud. Did he hate himself so much as to conceive a voice that sounded so evil?
“Who are you?” Tylor called out.
Apocalypse.
The pain did not seem as bad as Tylor awoke to a brightly lit room. The source of light was a large window on his left which hung open at an angle. He recognized nothing around him. The bed was wooden and quite long in length, with white sheets and matching pillow. The room was bare apart from the bed, window, and a painting of a country side hanging on the far wall. A wooden door at the end of bed was closed. His body had been wrapped in bandages, all around one of his legs, sides, and an arm. A cloth had been put over his forehead as well. It felt damp from either water or his sweat.
Sitting up slowly and examining the surroundings closer to him, he noticed that to the side of the bed lay his clothes, folded neatly and clean and beside that a bowl of water. While unconscious someone had cared for him, but he had no memory of it or how he was brought to the plain looking room.
Footsteps echoed on old wood outside his door. Returning to a laying down position, with the covers over his body, Tylor watched the door as the handle turned slowly. Karen and Leon entered one after the other, Karen in her usual clothing (although they looked cleaner, no blood stains remained) and Leon dressed as he had been when they met.
“How are you feeling, Tylor?” Karen asked. “Try not to move, you were very badly injured…we almost lost you…”
Mumbling that he still felt a bit of pain, but otherwise felt fine, he asked where he was.
Leon decided to be the one who answered this time, “Cattra, or more accurately, the barracks for the knights stationed here. I had our doctor take a look at you and your companions. You were hurt badly and I owed you for leading me to the bandits, though I’m sorry I did not arrive sooner.”
Looking away, Tylor sighed. As Karen wandered over to the window and leant her back on it she asked him what was wrong.
“All those people died, why?” he asked, whispering.
He was sure Leon almost smirked. Shaking his head slightly, the Demon Hunter turned and left the room. Closing the door behind him, he left Karen and Tylor alone. Karen was not forthcoming with answers and they stayed silent for a few seconds.
“The rest of your things are in another room with mine and Joel’s. If you’re ready to travel, we can leave for Wex soon.”
She began to leave the room, walking across from the window to the door, but stopped as Tylor called back to her. Asking again why all those people had died, she sighed at him and shook her head.
“It is the way of the world, Tylor. There are good people… and there are bad. We had to defend ourselves. You wanted to know what I meant by the darkness in this land, didn’t you? Today you witnessed it first hand.”
With that, she left.
Is it as simple as that? Killing someone that’s bad is okay? I don’t believe that, I won’t believe that. Who decides what’s bad? I thought I was beginning to know Karen, understand her… now I’m sure she’s lying to me and she’s a murderer. What can I do?
Outside, Karen was startled to see Leon relaxing against the wall. Their gaze met and neither looked away, both faces did not change from their blank expressions.
“He is not native to the land, nor is his young friend. I suppose that is why they do not understand the way things work, but you obviously do. Tell me, where do you hail from?” Leon asked, not moving his gaze.
Karen spoke out the answer, clearly, but quietly, “Noctern.”
“…I see,” Leon replied.
Tylor lay in the unfamiliar bed looking at the roof for some time. Almost two hours had to have past. The sound of footsteps echoed from his door and from through the walls. Voices occasionally spoke, though the words were mostly inaudible. The world was going on around him as normal. Karen and Leon were acting as if everything was fine, but it was not. How could he travel with a murderer?
His thoughts changed as he came to a sudden realization; where was Joel? Getting up and quickly dressing himself (leaving the bandages in place) he ventured out of his room and into the corridor beyond. Directly to the right of the door were some stairs, probably where he had heard footsteps from earlier and to his left a few more doors on either side of the hall. At the end of the passage was another window. The first room on the opposite side of his was empty. The decor of the room matched the one he had been in as well.
This was the trend for the next three rooms. They were all empty, though one had some bags on the bed and no covers. In the forth and final room on the left side of the hall, he found Joel. He was lying in bed like Tylor had been, but holding the pillow over his head, his stomach facing the bed, and his back to the door.
“How are you, Joel?” Tylor asked slowly, while sitting down on the end of the bed.
The kid was crying, but trying his best to hide it. Some sniffing sounds from under the pillow were the only reply he could get from his young friend. What he had seen in the cave must have scared him, or maybe…
“Joel, you can talk to me…” he said, pausing while trying to find the right words, “…you should not have seen that, I broke one of the rules we agreed on… I’m very sorry. It’s entirely my fault.”
His friend twisted himself around and sat up against the bed, placing the pillow on his lap. He looked away and wiped his puffy red eyes, but Tylor insisted that it was okay to cry. His friend took no notice and insisted on trying to put on a brave face.
“It’s…different, when you told me about… your dad I was sad, but...seeing those people…it reminded me so much…it was just like that night…the blood and screaming…”
Hiding his head in his hands again, he wept. It was not just watching people being struck down before him that had frightened him so. Tylor should have realized. It was because it reminded him of things he saw on the night of the storm at Samilo. Images of the body pulled from the wreckage appeared in his mind again. That must have been nothing compared to what he saw.
My own problems, my own situation… what does it matter? I would rather make sure he is alright. It’s not fair on someone his age.
Placing a hand round his young friend’s shoulder, he told him once more that it was okay and to cry and move on. It was not the best advice, but he could not think of something to say, for he felt much the same. He had seen death first hand too much over the last few days, and it sickened him. After instructing Joel to get dressed and get ready to leave, Tylor left the room.
“Be brave, Joel,” he said as he left.
Outside, he felt stupid for saying such a thing, but somehow he thought that was the kind of thing that Joel would understand. Downstairs, there were a few knights coming and going out of doors around the barracks. Leon and Karen were in a large hall surrounded by thin walls and many red leather seats. Leon was pacing around the seats while Karen sat against a table with familiar back packs and armor sitting in a pile on it. Upon seeing him wander towards them, she tossed him his chest piece and single gauntlet.
“Well then,” Leon announced, “I am heading to the capital and I assume you still are. Do you wish to travel with me?”
“N…” Karen began.
“Yes,” Tylor interrupted.
Pushing herself up from the table she sat against, Karen stood proud before Tylor and looked at him straight in the eyes. Whispering that she did not affiliate herself with knights and she would not travel with him, Tylor only sighed. He could have been compassionate in his answer, but she did not deserve it.
“Well, I’m traveling with Leon. Whether you do or do not is up to you,” he said, sternly.
Karen was quite shocked and taken a back by his forceful answer and her eyes grew much wider. Cursing under her breath, she acknowledged that she would as well. Tylor walked past her while placing his armor and gauntlet on and examined the goods on the table to find his satchel and checked that everything was safe inside.
Walking over to Leon he formally introduced himself, Joel, and Karen. Leon nodded to Tylor and explained that he just had to finish up some business with the knights of the town before they left and that they should wait at the front gates. Tylor agreed and called back upstairs to Joel, telling him that they had to leave soon.
After some waiting, Joel finally ventured down the stairs, staying silent all the while. Placing his gauntlet on and picking up his backpack, he joined the group, who were set and ready to go. Without a word, they left the barracks and found their way back to the entrance of Cattra. Tylor took one last fleeting look at the building they left, never remembering entering it, and wondered if he would ever be as close to more knights in the future.
A short time later Leon joined them, with no belongings apart from his weapon. He talked with some people near the gate and returned to explain that he could not arrange a cart, unless they were willing to wait another couple of days. Exchanged glances between them all did not really decide anything. Tylor spoke out and said it was fine for them to walk. Leon smiled and agreed and began walking out into the country side. Tylor followed, with Joel slowly behind, then Karen even further behind him.
Time past and the group moved on, following the same steps that had done the day before. The point where the flaming wreckage was had now been cleared, by either the bandits before Leon found them, or the knights of Cattra afterwards. The new land beyond was much the same as before; trees, grass, and dirt roads. Tylor was walking up front with Leon now. Leon had asked some questions, mostly about where he was from and how he was coping with the differences on the main land. He seemed to understand just how different and shocking it was for Tylor and Joel.
“The island is actually part of the kingdom, technically. But it is still excluded because of its location across sometimes choppy seas, though we still trade with it when we can. I went there once many years ago, so I know certain things might shock you.”
Was Leon being vague on purpose? Tylor was not sure whether or not he was not speaking about the deaths in the cave on purpose or by chance, but knew that was exactly what he wanted to imply.
“I’m curious why you wanted to travel with me despite your disgust at me killing those people,” he said and ending Tylor’s wondering.
For a moment he was speechless. It seemed although Leon looked reserved in opinion and feelings, he still noticed the reactions of people around him. And Tylor’s reaction when he first awoke back in Cattra obviously told him how distraught he was over what happened in the bandit cave.
“…I was taught,” Tylor began, “…my father taught me that those who kill without remorse are evil, but you clearly are not. You are respected and praised by people, despite what you do. I want to know more.”
Leon nodded, seemingly taking note of what he was saying. His face revealed nothing of what he was really thinking at that time. Asking if what he saw him do had scared Tylor, he answered that it did a little, but that it had scared Joel more.
“One thing that is known about the island you come from,” Leon began, “is the fact that crime is almost nonexistent. Unfortunately, things are not like that here. Peace is kept for the most part, but at times the price for this continuing peace is the lives of people who would seek to ruin it. It is the way of the world.”
The way of the world, the darkness, he thought.
Glancing at Karen, he remembered her words about the same thing. A fragile peace which required deaths to keep it in place? Things could be like that there, and he had no reason to doubt Leon. It was true what he said about Wrathe and Samilo. Although a militia was in place to stop trades from going bad, there was never any real reason for them being constantly on guard. They mostly dealt with animal attacks and the odd trading disagreement, but he had never heard of any situation in which it ended with violence, or being murdered. The main land was nothing but a place of death to him so far. The Sparda’s crew and the people from the cave were all dead.
“Do you feel guilty?” Tylor asked.
Leon smiled, causing Tylor to look away, disgruntled.
“I’m sorry if I offend you. I forget that you do not know about Hunters,” he stated, grabbing Tylor’s attention once more. “Training that initiates go through in the process of becoming a Demon Hunter helps distance your feelings from battle and the aftermath. Within feelings dwell weakness, within anger dwells rage, and within guilt dwells destruction.”
This sounded very odd to Tylor. Training too effectively shut off emotions was something he could not comprehend. Was it that easy to distance yourself from the feelings you would feel from killing someone, another person, someone with a family? Leon seemed fine with such things, but then, he must have been used to it, as he had gone through the very training he spoke of.
“Shutting off emotions, that just seems wrong to me…” Tylor muttered.
With his strange smile, Leon agreed and stated that it was not something that everyone could endure, but it had been all he had done his whole life. He had trained from a very young age to later be dispatched into the service of Atra’s army. It seemed like a very strange ambition to Tylor. What kind of person would want to learn to be an unfeeling killer? To spend their lifetime training and then going out on missions to kill people. Of course, it probably was not as simple as that, but at that point of time it all seemed black and white to Tylor. It also did not give him the answer he was hoping for from Leon, answers that would allow him to answer his own questions about what happened in the cave.
The bandits would have killed them. That much was clear to him. They had even said it to their very faces that they would be killed, but was that enough reason to justify killing them? Just because they did not care that killing someone was wrong did that mean they could then kill them and not feel any guilt?
While thinking such things to himself he could not help but think of Tai and how the assassin thought about death. Tai had killed so many people, more than he knew about most likely, but the deaths of his father and the people on the Sparda were still fresh in his mind. Tai was different to Leon. Though Leon killed people as well, he did not show any pleasure in doing it, unlike Tai.
Tai enjoyed death.
Content, for now, that Leon was a good person, Tylor decided to speak no more of such things. He was concentrating on the negative (as usual) and did not think about what else Hunters did as a byproduct of their actions. As a Hunter, Leon helped and protected people all over the kingdom. He ceased commenting and questioning his new companion’s career after realizing such things. It was none of his business, anyway. His thoughts about what happened would remain his own from then on.
“It is not just where you are from that reflects why you have trouble understanding why we do what we do, is it?” Leon asked.
He was not sure how to answer. What exactly was Leon getting at?
“I have met a few islanders in my time, as I mentioned before, but you are different from them. You have very high standards of morals, Tylor. That is why you feel the way you do about the fate of the bandits. You are a rare find, regardless of birthplace, in these troubled times.”
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