right and wrong

" So? Still feel guilty for the deaths you caused now?" he heard master ask. Rumius turned around. So this was what it was about.

Master knew. But it wasnt like he was trying to hide it. By now, several of the caged up people had noticed them and were calling out for help. 

" Let's free them first, Master. We…can talk later." He said. 

Master shrugged and walked off.

The cages were locked at a small metallic plate, consisting of a standard barrel bolt that was kept in place by a lock. Rumius didn't have the keys, but he did have his magic. 

Compressing the spell as much as he could, Rumius aimed downward and fired the white beam through the keyhole. The blast punctured the metal cleanly and emerged on the other side, drilling a hole in the ground. 

Rumius undid the lock and opened the door. 

The people inside rushed out like a tide. Rumius staggered back as a stampede of legs pushed past him. He heard sobs, yells of relief as the stream of people scrambled past. Some, who were too weak to walk, crawled. The worst of the. pulled themselves with their bony arms. Rumius could sense their desperation, but also their overpowering relief. 

Looking over to the other two cages, it was almost the same sight. Master was working on the last one. People were dropping to their knees, left and right, thanking the heavens in garbled sobs and cries mixed with laughter. 

' There must be over 40 people here. At least.' He thought. ' This is terrible.' 

' It is. Do you still feel pity for the lives you took?' Master's question returned to haunt him. 

The sight in front of him made it even harder to answer. He saw relieved and free people. People who could return to their families. And their families who could cry and hug and kiss their husbands, sons and wives again. 

It was almost as if the tent disappeared when Rumius looked back in the direction he had come from. Rumius could hear the dying breaths of the bandits even now, carried by the wind like a bass to the cries of joy that played the melody.

' They can now see their families again because I…no we…massacred their captors.' He registered numbly. ' Killing them was the right choice. Yes. Killing them was the right choice.'

It was okay. He wasn't evil.

Because in the end…in the end, he had saved people.

People which the bandits were basically about to kill. People whose lives the bandits were about to ruin.

So it was fine. 

It was fine.

It was not fine.

It was not fine. It was not fine because inside, under all this moral and philosophical and spiritual and righteous and high-horsed talk, Rumius still couldn't escape the hollow feeling that right and wrong had ceased to be a part of his decisions. He was just making excuses and averting his eyes. 

If given a chance, Rumius would do the same thing again. If given another chance, even after that, he would still choose the same option. And after that. And after that. And even after that. Rumius had only realised it now. No. He had only been forced to realise it now. 

His throat dried up.

Where had it all begun? Was it when they arrived in the city? When he didn't protest master's brutal killing of that ox-man? Was it even further back?

Rumius recalled the windy mountain where he was made master's slave. His hand unconsciously came up to brush against his neck, as if feeling for the collar that wasn't there. Was it then?

When he had put his wants on even ground as his family? When he didn't flat out reject and spurn master's promise for power because he had a moral responsibility to repay his mother and Rennie for all they had done for him?

It made Rumius scared to think even further back. Could he have changed so much over so little time?

' Am I even….myself anymore?' His throat tightened in fear. ' Am I…that different now? Why? How?' 

A voice purred him his ear.' Perhaps not….but think about it. Is that really a bad thing?' Rumius physically staggered backwards, swivelling around in search of the voice.

' No. No. No. I can't change so much…because…' 

' Because of what? You realise that you're not making any sense?' The voice laughed hysterically. It sounded so familiar yet he couldn't put a finger on it.

' Since when? Rumius wondered. ' Since when did he become this way?' 

Rumius saw the flutter of a familiar blue fabric enter his field of vision. When he looked up, he saw master's expectant face.

" You seem to be thinking deeply. Oh, don't mind me, I'm just here for your answer." She chuckled. One of her eyebrows went up. 

" Your face looks white." She clicked her tongue." You can go back to the shade if you need to. Just don't pass out."

" Master. What is…right?" Rumius suddenly found himself asking. 

With her back to the sun, Rumius couldn't see his master's eyes, but her smile alone was visible. It was the smile that made him doubt if it was wise to ask her for advice. 

" That's an awfully deep question that you're asking." She paused. " Was killing those bandits already enough to affect you that much?" 

When he didn't answer, she signed. There was almost a hint of disappointment in her voice. The though of it struck him like a knife to his chest. Self doubt began to bubble to the surface. He shouldn't be doing this. He should have moved on already. Why was he letting it get to him? Master was fine! Be like her! 

But in the end, Rumius simply couldn't. He couldnt just force his way out like she wanted him to. 

Master spoke again:" What is right you say? I believe that there are two types of rights in this world." 

" T-Two…types?" Rumius asked. He had never heard of such a thing. 

" Yes, two types. Not one." Master said whilst smirking. " You must understand that the world is not black and white. In fact, it is largely grey."

" The times where you find yourself faced with a situation where there are only two choices. One which is absolutely wrong and one which is absolutely right….pffft, you'll only ever find that in a good dream." She said flatly. 

Her voice took on a hard tone as she fixed him with an icy stare. Her blue eyes seemed almost like an answer in itself." If you're going to live a life by your pacifist ideals, then you won't survive, kid. Even if you have the strength, you will not last mentally." 

" This is a desperate world. People kill to survive. That means other people and monsters alike. If you can't stomach the killing, then you might as well give up and stay cooped up in your fancy house." 

Her words were as heavy as actual blows. And they hurt just as much. It was like she was forcibly shoving all the things that he didn't want to see and didn't want to think about in his face.

" The freedom you seek, it won't come for free." She said.

That was the last straw. It was like finally having enough with a naggy phrase that you've heared too many times. Or having enough with putting up with an annoying problem and finally deciding to get it fixed. 

Every word master said resonated with him. Like a truck, every word master said struck him heavily. Every word master said pushed him closer and closer to breaking.

" I don't have a definition of what is right for you, kid. But if I will tell you the two types of rights I believe in." She raised one finger. " What makes me feel good is right."

She popped up a second. " What makes me feel good is right." She finished.

" What makes me feel good…is right?" Rumisu repeated.

" Yes. That is the best way to live." Master said, nodding. 

' What makes me feel good…'

' But…killing these people doesn't make me feel good.' Rumius lamented. ' It makes me feel terrible. Even knowing that they're bandits doesn't help that. What…what should I do?'

' Then that's easy.' The familiar voice returned, his voice, breathing into his ears. ' We just have to make a slight change.' 

When Rumius went to find his master again to give her his response, he had a different look in his eyes, a different beat in his chest. 

Master looked down at him as he pulled on her robes. 

" Have you gotten your answer?" She asked.

" Yes." He replied. Then fell silent for a moment before continuing.

" ....you asked me if I felt guilty for the bandits I killed, right? I don't. I don't anymore." 

" And why?" 

" Because even though I don't like killing them. I can't help it if they get in my way. I don't want to live this life for someone else. " He looked up at the sky and this time, he saw the blue and white world above looking back at him. " That is my freedom. And that is why I won't be going home." He said firmly. " Im not living my life cooped up in my fancy house." 

" Hmmm….I can't say I understand this…freedom of yours. But that'll do for now." Master said. " What will you do if we end up having to kill people again then?" 

" I'll do it. But once I'm strong enough, I want to at least give them a chance to surrender first. Only once I'm strong enough. " He reassured her.

" I…see. I suppose that is acceptable."

The conversation died away and the two of them stood side by side in silence. 

" Did my advice help?" Master suddenly asked. 

Rumius nodded. " What benefits me is right." He said, noting the small hop in master's eyebrows. " Because I don't particularly like killing so.." 

" ' Benefits' eh?" She cut him off with an interested muse. "Well, not too bad philosophy to live by." She grinned. " Albeit a little vague."

Rumius nodded in response, his lips tweaking slightly upwards.

" I'll work on it." 

Then, Master seemed to jolt, causing Rumius to look up.

" Master? What's wrong?"

" Ah by the Primachs." She breathed. " The flare. I completely forgot."