Chapter 26: The Aftermath.


    Stradale’s night had hit, and hit hard. The cold sank its teeth into Nero’s skin and muscles, burning them with a smokeless fire.


    He’d gotten used to the cold lately however, and had several layers of cloth around his arm to shield him from the bulk of its wrath.


    That was not what made this night pleasant however, Hell’s nights were still brutal, and the town was still in shambles from the morning’s affairs.


    Still, there was something intangibly good about tonight, he could feel it in the corner of his eyes, the air and most of all in the loudness.


    He was sitting outside the town hall, at the side of the building, obstructed by shrubs and a random assortment of junk.


    Still he got a good view of the frenzy of celebration that overcame the town.


    Celebratory fires burned as the Chieftain’s corpse was paraded about the town, hefted in front of each home as if to serve as definite proof and reassurance that the monster was really, really dead and would never hurt any man woman or child again. It took several Mighty to heft him, even dead and unresisting, but dead he remained.


    “That’s because of you.” Ember chimed, a proud smile on her face.


    Nero glanced over at a mother clutching the lifeless corpse of her daughter.


    “That’s because of me too.” He noted.


    Ember’s tiny face fell. “That’s not fair on yourself.”


    Perhaps it wasn’t. But had he not spent so much time trying to protect his skin and actually thinking of a way to put down the Chieftain, could he have done it in a far less bloody way?


    Almost certainly yes.


    Guards, hunters and any other Mighty who had fought for the Chieftain were dragged by crowds up to the stand where Nero was supposed to have been killed today. One by one, they had their heads forced into nooses and were hanged to death despite their desperate pleading.


    Nero searched his mind for how he felt and found conflict. He simply did not have it in him to care all that much about the guards who’d tortured Stradale, but perhaps at least some of those Mighty, like Selvas, were just trying to keep Stradale safe by appeasing its Demon.


    His eyes fell on Ember instead and he saw her staring at them with her face squeezed into a frown. Before he could tell her to look away, the Imp spoke. “They sided with the Demons, they deserve to die.”


    The hot conviction in her voice startled Nero. For a second it was hard to believe it was the same bubbly girl that Nero was speaking to.


    It seemed much of that cadence evaporated at the sight of Demons and gave way to something Nero didn''t know what to make of.


    He supposed he could understand some level of the hatred however. No, not some level, fucking all of it. He’d been running from them for what felt like an eternity, every shadow in the night was a Demon coming for him, every footstep was one approaching to uncover his identity.


    If he didn’t hate Demons then he loved everything else by comparison.


    Nero said nothing to Ember however, instead, he let the exhaustion take him for the second time today and slipped into unconsciousness once more. This time the sound of a roaring town was his lullaby.


    Morning came quickly, and the sound of shuffling feet on the town hall''s wooden floors woke Nero up. It told him the place was getting filled with more and more people.


    They were having a meeting.


    Murmuring filled the air, and though he couldn’t make out what any one individual was saying, there was a lightness to how they spoke. It was not in whispers or hushed tones, but clear and bold.


    “Welcome everyone!” A familiar voice cut through the noise and all fell silent at the sound of Selvas. Her voice sounded different though, all hoarse and rough like she had gravel down her throat. He heard her walk through squeaking wood and stop in front of the room.


    “The Chieftain is dead.” She announced, and was barely done speaking before the room erupted into a sea of cheers and whoops.


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    The joy lasted a while and Nero could only imagine Selvas smiling as she drank it in. Would she actually smile, or would she just stand there all stone faced. Selvas was an interesting woman.


    “But this is not the end.” Whatever her expression must have been, her voice was now free of all levity and hanging like an anchor above the crowd’s head. “Stradale is a rebel town now, which means the Circle will want to make an example out of us.” She said, “But that also means we get to decide our own fate, no more will we be the playthings of a Demon.”


    The conviction in her words was as strong as the very chains that once to hold Stradale. Nero imagined to some it wrapped around them tight like a warm blanket, and for others it was like a noose being fastened around their neck.


    One of the latter parties spoke up with a quivering voice. A woman, or perhaps just a very shaken man. “What about the Light Breather, where is he?” They asked.


    Silence.


    In that moment, the people’s hope was like glass, both an impossibly tangible thing and incredibly fragile as well.


    Selvas’ next words shattered it. “After slaying the Chieftain, Gunther and Cain took him to the apothecary and healed him. When they got back, he had left and hasn’t been seen since.”


    Panicked murmurs broke through the crowd and feet shuffled uneasily atop the oak floor. It seemed like the people were one more piece of bad news away from scurrying out of the town hall like a pack of rats and never looking back at Stradale ever again.


    Much of what Selvas said was correct, his body still quivered and quaked in agony at every rudimentary motion, but thanks to the rags wrapped around him, Nero would still consider himself healed when juxtaposed against the state he''d left it in after the fight.


    He was still hiding.


    Why?


    “You’re gonna run.” Ember breathed, her words curiously enough lacking any judgement. It was more just a statement of facts. Fact that she certainly did not approve of, but facts no less.


    “I can’t stay here.” He whispered as if trying to keep his conscience from hearing. “They know my face, my name, they know what I am.”


    “And they love you for it.” Ember replied.


    “They love a hero from prophecy, not the king of financial fraud.” He sighed


    “Can’t you be a hero for them?” Ember asked.


    “I don’t think so.” He shook his head.


    “How about for her?”


    Speeches were never really Selvas’ preferred pass time. Hunting was, not the stalking, tracking, trapping, but the killing. Yes, just the killing. The electric feeling of holding absolute power over another life, and choosing when it ended. But she could hardly kill the people of her town now could she?


    Well, I could, very easily in fact, but it would be unethical.


    She chose words instead of violence. “Calm down.” She said, only to find out it was the exact wrong thing to say by how the crowd almost seemed to calm up in reaction to it.


    Nero was gone, possibly long fucking gone by now. He’d helped free the town, killed the Chieftain and saved her father. But now he was gone, and as much as she wanted him here, moping about it wasn’t going to change that.


    Now she just had to convince the citizens of the same thing.


    “When they come for us, how are we going to survive without the Light?” Enzo asked, he had three boys, a girl and two sisters to take care of. It made sense that he was worried.


    “We’ll work on creating manned stations around the town, barricades-.” Selvas began, only to be cut off.


    “Why did he leave?!” Mariam asked, the adolescent son clutching her thigh.


    “I’m sure he had his reasons.” Selvas said softly. Wrong answer again, and this time someone else chimed in with an answer they thought was better.


    Noah the blacksmith commanded the attention of the crowd with his gruff voice and severe eyes. “It’s because he hates us, you turned on him Selvas, tried to offer him up on a platter to that red bastard.”


    “I was doing what I thought was right.” She replied, feeling something tug inside of her. It wasn’t necessarily pleasant to be reminded of what happened between her and Nero.


    “And who’s to say you won’t decide turning him in is right again?” He asked.


    “I saved him, I changed my mind.” She explained.


    “And nothing’s stopping you from changing it once more.” He shot at her.


    He was being emotional, but in some ways logical too, and worst of all charismatic. A combination of those three was the perfect concoction to draw in the crowd. And Selvas couldn’t compete with that.


    She looked at the distress in their eyes, there was hate aimed at her, but overwhelmingly the people just looked lost. They couldn’t live like this, much less defend from an invading force.


    Dead men.


    She was looking at dead men. All of her friends, family, every single one of them, dead waiting to find out.


    Fuck.


    “Fuck.”


    Selvas turned at the voice.


    Nero was standing at the door, back leaned against the frame and with an arm in a sling. “Who forgot to invite me to the meeting?” He chuckled.


    But no one laughed. No, they merely looked at him as if he were something ethereal unreal; A substance, object or being that by all known laws should not be real and yet... There he is.


    He limped more than walked through the room, face tightening with exertion at each motion. Yet if Selvas was judging by the awe in the people’s eyes he might as well have been levitating his way through the air.


    The room was loud with silence, only briefly interrupted by the footsteps of the Light Breather.


    When he got to Selvas he grinned and she failed in her efforts not to show a hint of a smile.


    “I thought you left.” She whispered.


    “The thought never even crossed my mind.” He smiled , lying through his teeth.


    He placed a hand on her shoulder and with a groan, used her as leverage to turn and face the crowd.


    “I’m not really good at giving speeches.” Nero began, then hesitated. “Actually, no, I’m great at them, it’s just that usually they’re made with the purpose of tricking whoever’s listening into believing I have their best interest at heart.”


    Confused glances went through the crowd and Nero hurried to continue. “But this is different.” He added quickly. “I uhm… I’m here.” He said, eyes burning like an inferno with a certainty greater than one might be of the colour of the sky. Selvas felt him squeeze her shoulder tighter. “No matter what happens next. I will be here for it.”


    She turned to him, opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the voice of another.


    “There’s an Imp on your shoulder!” Mariam said.


    Selvas’s eyes narrowed and widened. She was right, there was, in fact, a bright, golden Imp.