V. "Black and White" for True Writers
Judgment, A Story in Six Scenes
I. II. III. IV. V. VI.
The compound was small and the thousand armed Fae that surrounded it seemed overkill. The trembling proud man who walked out from the door as the one who would speak for them couldn’t be more than twenty five at the oldest. So young and she was sure the rest of those there would be even younger. There would be no joy in destroying this group, none of the satisfaction she had hoped to find. Not when they were little more than children with weapons they could never understand.
“Will you surrender?” She asked to ease the conscience she would never admit to owning. There was the small chance he would take her offer, be willing to save himself and the others. Maybe he wasn’t the fanatic who could never be stopped. Maybe there was something left in him other than hate and foolish faith.
“Never. We will not let ourselves be taken by the monsters we swore to destroy, forsaking the rights and privileges of our own race to do so.”
“So be it.” The man before her and all that he had gathered to follow him lived in a world of black and white with no room for the grays in between. They had founded a monastic order, so she knew there would be no children within the walls to pay for their parents’ mistakes. Only more young people, too young who decided it was acceptable to destroy a land that did not fit into their beliefs. The idea of it was probably never real to half of them. No more real than a movie. And for this they would die.
All she had to do was picture the dead of her own land, the children who had known no better, done nothing wrong and she found the will to do what must be done. “Kill them all, don’t leave a single body to seek revenge. Burn the compound then sew salt into the land.” Fanatics bred fanatics, leave one and more would follow. This would end here with a warning to any other who wanted to try this. So she watched impassively as a thousand soldiers destroyed a cell that was probably less than two hundred and felt no guilt.
I. II. III. IV. V. VI.
The compound was small and the thousand armed Fae that surrounded it seemed overkill. The trembling proud man who walked out from the door as the one who would speak for them couldn’t be more than twenty five at the oldest. So young and she was sure the rest of those there would be even younger. There would be no joy in destroying this group, none of the satisfaction she had hoped to find. Not when they were little more than children with weapons they could never understand.
“Will you surrender?” She asked to ease the conscience she would never admit to owning. There was the small chance he would take her offer, be willing to save himself and the others. Maybe he wasn’t the fanatic who could never be stopped. Maybe there was something left in him other than hate and foolish faith.
“Never. We will not let ourselves be taken by the monsters we swore to destroy, forsaking the rights and privileges of our own race to do so.”
“So be it.” The man before her and all that he had gathered to follow him lived in a world of black and white with no room for the grays in between. They had founded a monastic order, so she knew there would be no children within the walls to pay for their parents’ mistakes. Only more young people, too young who decided it was acceptable to destroy a land that did not fit into their beliefs. The idea of it was probably never real to half of them. No more real than a movie. And for this they would die.
All she had to do was picture the dead of her own land, the children who had known no better, done nothing wrong and she found the will to do what must be done. “Kill them all, don’t leave a single body to seek revenge. Burn the compound then sew salt into the land.” Fanatics bred fanatics, leave one and more would follow. This would end here with a warning to any other who wanted to try this. So she watched impassively as a thousand soldiers destroyed a cell that was probably less than two hundred and felt no guilt.