Ashes and Oaths

Chapter 64: Black or White, No Grey

“You find entertainment in my internal conflict,” Luz stated calmly. “The more I resist what you have bound me to, the stronger it grows. It is that simple.” His black gauntleted hand rested on the hilt of his sword, a familiar gesture that grounded him in the present while his mind raced through possibilities. The hidden white ribbon on his wrist felt like a brand against his skin. “I saw a knight that could be saved,” Mestre Escuro said with a strange smile. “One that was actually honourable. I through perhaps in time you would come to see out struggle. See us as more than just monsters. But you kept your distance.”

Luz’s amber eyes widened slightly, the amber flicker becoming more pronounced as he processed Mestre Escuro’s confession. The idea that he saw something redeemable in him– something worth saving– was both absurd and unsettling. “You saw a knight who would burn his own soul to save civilians,” Luz said, his voice carrying a note of dark irony. “That is not honourable. That is just tragic.” He turned away from Mestre Escuro, pacing along the shattered marble floor of the cathedral. The sound of his armoured boots echoed through the ruined space. “All this time I thought you were testing me– seeing if I would crack under pressure or prove myself worthy of your trust,” he continued, running a black gauntleted hand through his ask-silver hair. “But you were just waiting for me to break down and give in to what you put inside me.”

“I was waiting for you to see us as human…” Mestre Escuro said calmly. “You saw Supervivente… what the Santo knights did to him. They have been doing it to our kind long before I started this war. Treating us like monster, just because of how we look.” Luz’s pacing stopped abruptly, his amber eyes fixing on the Mestre Escuro with a newfound intensity. The mention of the Santo’s knights’ treatment of Corrompido struck a chord within him, tapping into the same righteous fury that had once defined him as a commander. “Do not compare you war to my crusade,” Luz said sharply, his voice carrying the weight of his past beliefs. “The Santo’s order targeted threats– corrompido who preyed on innocent lives, who desecrated sacred ground, who brought chaos to peaceful kingdoms.”

Luz’s armoured hand moved to rest on the hilt of his sword, fingers brushing against the frayed white ribbon hidden beneath his gauntlet. “You are twisting my memories to suit your narrative. The knights I severed were protectors– not monsters.” The black veins along his jawline pulsed slightly as he struggled between his loyalty to his former life and the undeniable truth behind Mestre Escuro’s words. “I was there when the order started,” Mestre Escuro said a bit louder, the tension evident in his voice as memories threaten to flood back from the surface. “I saw what they did. Do you know what happens to recruits that fail the Santo order trails. Or those with magic who refuse to bend the knee?”

Luz’s amber eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as Mestre Escuro’s words struck a chord with memories he had long suppressed. The mention of the Santo order’s brutal initiation rites and their treatment of magical recruits brought back flashes of his own training– months spend fasting, enduring physical punishment, and being conditioned to see anything outside their dogma as evil. “Those rituals were designed to break spirits and forge weapons,” Luz admitted through clenched teeth, his voice carrying the weight of someone who had both witnessed and participated in that system. “Survivors became fanatics– zealots who saw demons as lesser being deserving only destruction.”

Luz’s black gauntleted hand flexed against the hilt of his sword, the hidden white ribbon on his wrist feeling like a brand against his skin. The black veins along his jawline pulsed in response to the emotional turmoil brewing within him. “Magic users who refuse to submit were branded heretics,” he said softly. “Like Lady Escuridade was,” Mestre Escuro said softly. “She was just a child, when they burned her house to the ground. When I found her, she was a child living along in an abandoned manor in the middle of nowhere.” Luz’s amber eyes widened as Mestre Escuro’s words registered. The mention of Lady Escuridade’s past struck a chord within him, connecting to memories of his own childhood– the village he grew up in, the family who raised him.

“A child?” Luz repeated, his voice losing its commanding edge and taking on a note of genuine shock. “They burned a child because she had magic?” his armoured hands clenched into fists at his sides. The hidden white ribbon on his wrist seemed to burn against his skin as images of Amelia– of the innocent life he has sworn to protect– flooded his mind. “Lady Escuridade is one of you most powerful allies. She has become one of your most ruthless commanders,” Luz stated, though his tone lacked its usual conviction. “Because, we decided to fight back,” Mestre Escuro said. “To free out people from the Santo order. But in order to do that, we needed more power.”

Luz’s amber eyes fixed on Mestre Escuro, his expression shifting from shock to a cold understanding. The pieces began to fall into place– the ruthless efficiency of the Corrompido armies, the strategic targeting of holy sites and knight battalions. “Power,” he repeated slowly, his voice carrying the weight of someone who had seen what unchecked ambition could do. “You bound yourself to an entity that feeds on desire to gain strength. And you have been building an army of monsters who do the same.” Luz’s black gauntleted hand tightened around the hilt of his sword, the hidden white ribbon on his wrist feeling like a brand against his skin. “So, this entire war– our conquests, the razing of holy cities– it as all been about gaining power?” “Yes,” Mestre Escuro said simply. “For six years now, we have been fighting. I though our fight would be… I through it would be over by now.”