Chapter 170

Neia's face was swollen. Pain thudded through it. 'It was still worth it.' She thought to herself when she recalled the stupefied face of Remedios Custodio when Neia waved from the back of the wagon. Now she had chains on her wrists secured in front of herself, and the Commander of the Paladin Order had been fuming for days over being made to look foolish.

'My face didn't help. Most of them would just 'toss' me food, and not very well either.' Neia acknowledged the unending truth that her face looked filled with hate and loathing for whomever was looking at her, but for the moment at least she was past lamenting it.

There was no real reason to lament anything, 'You knew the price you'd pay the moment you lowered your bow, now you're going to pay it.' The unutterable sorrow and fear in that broken dragon's eyes, the sense of absolute loss, she still could not help but pity it.

'I made the right choice.' She knew that much, the wagon was still rolling and rocking underneath her, and now there was only one real fear left. 'If my mother and father are stationed here… what will I say to them? Will they understand? Will they forgive me?'

Neia had no idea, but that question haunted her at every waking and every sleeping hour. But every now and then, she turned her thoughts to her patient, her partner, her friend. 'He got away at least, hopefully he is alive and this wasn't all for nothing.' That was an ugly thought, though she didn't regret saving his life, even now that she was facing the price, the idea that it was all for nothing was like the taste of ashes on her tongue.

All the stale bread and lukewarm water in the world couldn't have gotten rid of that taste.

Outside, Remedios was shouting. "Remedios Custodio here with a prisoner, Neia Baraja, traitor and collaborator."

Low rumbling anger pierced the fabric of her confinement, and a moment later the draped tan fabric overhead was yanked away with a flourish to leave her exposed in full view. "Booo…" Judgement came down on her from the stone walls, more than a few echoed it, some in uniform, some in work clothes, but the words 'traitor and collaborator' were muttered with great loathing, and a rotten tomato struck her in the face from above.

It hit her swollen cheek with a wet 'splat' and the flattened remnant landed on the wooden cart.

"Shut up!" Neia bellowed and turned her eyes up to the wall, "Shut up! I'm no traitor! I'm no collaborator! I protected this country you bastards!" The injustice got to her and vitriol poured out of her mouth, she shot to her feet, rattling her chains, "I hunted the wilds, slew the demihumans you incompetents let slip through! I lived and did my job while you sit here guarding against an invasion you pray will never happen while I fight the invasions that do! Go to hell! I just did what I thought was right! How dare you all judge me for it!"

A heavy blow to the back of her head sent her falling to her face, but her fearsome stare had reached them even if her words had not. As she slipped into unconsciousness, she heard a few muttering, "Put down the monster…"

She woke up hours later in a stone cell, a pile of straw and a moldy blanket tossed nearby, her uniform and armor were long gone, instead she wore what amounted to nothing more than a sack and some chains. The stone was cold under her feet and she could see the moon through the bars on the high window.

The breeze was slowly cooling, 'It'll be autumn soon, I've always liked autumn.' Neia reflected and sat on the floor, drawing her knees up to her chest, she touched her cheek. The bruise was gone, somebody had healed her while she was unconscious.

The stone at her back was as hard as it was cool, she wrapped her arms around her knees and stared at the other wall without really seeing it.

Hours passed alone in the dim and the dark and the dank. A wooden bowl of water that had a wet piece of bread soaking in it sat nearby. She had no interest in it.

But her ears took everything in.

And that was why she heard the door and a pair of voices whispering harsh words to a guard. It clinked open, then shut, and swift, heavy feet approached. 'Why am I surprised?' Neia asked herself when she heard them drawing near.

She saw them out of the corner of her eye, even in the dim light of a distant moon she couldn't have failed to know them. But they had the added benefit of a torch which they stuck onto a sconce on the opposite wall and grabbed the bars as soon as they came close.

They clanged with the mailed fists striking at them, and Neia scrambled to her feet to rush the bars herself. "Mom! Dad!" She shouted and stuck her hands through the bars. They drew closer, allowing her arms to hug around the backs of their heads and put their arms around her at her back.

"You came!" Neia exclaimed and when the embrace broke, she stood, as did they and she wiped her fearsome eyes of previously unshed tears.

"Of course we did!" Her father said, looking down at her with eyes like those of his daughter.

"How could you think we wouldn't?" Her mother said with a fragile smile on her face, "You're our daughter… no matter what… of course we would come… but tell us… is it true?"

"Please, just tell us the truth." Her father implored, his hands folded into Neia's own, the metal between his fingers and her flesh was not enough to keep back all warmth, and Neia savored what she felt.

"I'm not a traitor! I'm not a collaborator!" Neia swore, "I promise, I swear on the gods! I… yes… yes I spared some demihumans, and a dragon too… that much… I don't deny it! But they were hurt! They were helpless! Just little ones calling for their mothers and fathers… they're no different from us and I just…" Neia didn't lower her head, she felt no shame, instead she leveled her eyes at them both, "I did what I thought was right, every time. That's all."

"A dragon, though?" Her father asked.

"He was broken, in pain… he asked for help. Helping the weak is common sense, isn't it?! Isn't that what you taught me?! Help the weak! Be brave! Isn't that what a paladin is supposed to do!" Neia exclaimed and shook the bars until they rattled and dust came down.

"For humans, to protect humanity." Her mother reproached her, "How could you help those… creatures?"

"I'm a creature to most humans, mother." Neia reminded her, and her mother and father both reared back as if they'd been slapped.

"Take a good look at me… a good, long look at me. What do you see?" Neia demanded of them both, her face caught in the light of the flame, shadows danced around her evil unblinking stare.

"My daughter." Her father said, "A daughter I've always been proud of…"

Neia bit her lip but said nothing even as her heart broke at his words.

"By all the gods… I never really realized just how much like your father you really look…" Her mother said and put a hand on Neia's face, she ran a thumb around the shape of one of Neia's eyes, and Neia nodded.

"If I'd been born a man, maybe this fierce look would be admired, respected, but as a woman? It made me ugly, it made me look spiteful, cruel, evil. One look at me and I'm judged badly before I say a word or do anything at all. I'm sorry, dad… it isn't your fault…" Neia said and took his hand, removed his armored glove and kissed the top of his hand. "But I never ever fit in anywhere. So of course I took pity on broken things… they're no different than I am. Demihumans, dragons, they're people too! We live the same, bleed the same, die the same. I don't hate them as much as I'm hated by the people who sent me out to die."

"Neia, I didn't know! They didn't tell us you were getting sent out to the wilds!" Her father said, a shimmering in his eyes was matched by that of his wife. "We'd have done something if we'd known…"

"Done what? Sent some other unfortunate to die in my stead? I made my choice, and I survived out there. You have no idea how often Demihumans actually got around your walls one way or another over the years. I hunted so many to their ends, using every trick in my arsenal, and now look what I get for it? Another month and we might have even had a dragon ally to guard the wilds, but that's over now. And who will they send in my stead, huh?! Some unprepared fool they want dead. That's our Order. Our Order wanted me dead and sent me out there to die, now I'm being slandered and executed for how I survived."

Neia spat in the stone. "I'm glad that uniform is gone. You were both right, it never suited me."

"Neia, my daughter, my precious girl… I'm sorry we weren't there for you… I'm sorry… but we're here now!" Her mother insisted and reached through the bars, drawing her daughter as close to her as she could. "We'll get the best defense we can for you! We won't just let you be killed… I… I don't agree with what you've done. But you've always been different… different than me, different than your father. Different from everyone else, and I'm so sorry I never understood that." Her mother said and slid her shaking hands up Neia's sides to run her hands through her daughter's golden hair.

"We'll do something, think of something… maybe we can get it knocked down to a-" Her mother stopped when Neia put a finger to her mother's lips.

"Dishonorable discharge? Thrown out like trash? Take away my honor, my pride, shame our family name?" Neia asked quietly.

"At least you'd be alive." Her father said, "I have only one child, and you can't be replaced… I know I was… distant, but not because I wanted to be! I always thought we could make up for lost time, but if you die we lose it all! There won't be any more time, I'll never see what kind of woman you become… I'd rather die in your stead." He whispered roughly, his teeth ground as he looked down at the stone and spat on it in contempt.

Neia stepped back from them, slowly letting their touches slip away, withdrawing from the torchlight. "You've said in minutes what I've hoped for all my short life." Neia said and let her hands fall at her side. "I know what they'll ask me to do. They'll ask me to recant, to publicly proclaim my hatred for demihumans, for all nonhumans. They'll ask me to express remorse, regret for every act of healing or mercy I ever gave to anyone. But I'm not sorry. I'm not and I never will be. Frankly, I'd rather die." Neia gave a weak smile at her parents.

"Thank you both for coming, but I won't bend here, I won't apologize, and I will defend myself on my terms. We both know how that will go, and I'd rather not see it happen. Just do me a favor, and don't watch. Also, if it isn't too much trouble, slit my throat that night so I don't suffer for too long. I love you both, now please… just go." She wiped her eyes again as her parents reached through the bars to her again.

"Remember me as I am, and that I died bravely. For any way I failed you, I'm sorry, and I'm sorry for making you suffer now. I love you both." Neia said, and stepped back to the far wall where she took up her moldy blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. "Go." She said, and their arms fell away from their grasping stretch to hang limp instead.

"I was never not proud of you… neither of us were ever anything but proud of you… but we just thought you should have done something different." Her mother said, and her father nodded in agreement.

"I know. Maybe you were right, but so much for that, I'm… tired, I'm going to get some rest, I'll see you at the trial. I love you." She said, and watched as they left her alone. When the door closed out of sight, Neia grimaced, kicked over the bowl of water and drenched bread to see the bowl shatter into splinters at the wall and the contents fall with a splash and wet plop to the stone floor. She then lay down on the old straw, curled up, and tried very hard to fall asleep.