“I do quite love an execution.” Godrick mumbles as we step out of the shadows and into the outer edge of the city square.

  I can feel every hair on my body stand on end as I hear his familiar voice again. I know for certain that he wasn’t there prior to our arrival. From my point of view, he merely appeared out of thin air.

  “What justice could ever be superior to execution, eh Godrick?” The Hermit says out of the side of their mouth, their words dripping with derision.

  I instinctively reach out and grab Prisha’s arm. She places her hand over mine, giving a gentle squeeze. I turn towards her, she gives a reassuring smile. This woman is better than me. She has gone through her own struggles yet stands taller and more firm than I ever could. I want to be like her when I grow up.

  “When one chooses to rebuke the will of the world, should their punishment not be equal to their level of malcontent?” Godrick spews, every word dripping with venom and disdain.

  “Ah, so after countless years you have finally admitted that your goal is punishment rather than justice.” A smirk forms on the Hermit’s face.

  “Are punishment and justice not simple synonyms my dear Hermit?”

  “Only to the weak minded who can not fathom a world outside the feeble constraints of their own delusions.” The Hermit gently pushes past Godrick and starts walking towards the scaffold in the center of the square. “Now if you will excuse me, we have an innocent life to save.”

  We begin walking towards the center of the square, but Godrick doesn’t let us walk alone. He skips quickly and takes our steps in stride.

  “Haven’t you got somewhere else to be? Some other fascist state to rule over?” I ask, though the words almost get caught in my throat. I’m trying my damnedest to be snarky, but he makes it really difficult.

  The violence that hung heavy around The Arcana Killer, or Trevor I should say, is nothing in comparison to the aura of this man. I am not sure how he can walk through the world without anyone even noticing him. His sense of power and entitlement oozes off of him like a tsunami ready to crush an unassuming sea town. Perhaps those who can’t sense magic are unable to feel it, and I’m just the unlucky fellow who can.

  “Dear boy, please do keep quiet the grown ups are talking.”

  I go raise to my fist to punch him squarely in his stupid face but the Hermit gently places their hand on my and pushes it down. Where Godrick’s energy feels like it could choke me, the Hermit’s is the exact opposite. It’s calm, wise, and beyond comforting. The energy they hold reminds me of that vanilla scent and warmth that I get from the ambient energy in the world. It instantly calms me down.

  “The person that will stand before us momentarily has been deemed a terrorist by the Order; but what act of terrorism has occurred? How is that supposed act of terrorism different than those of the Order who would destroy entire cities for the sake of upholding the supposed peace of this world?” The Hermit inquires, Godrick doesn’t miss a beat before responding.

  “One is meant to uphold the peace of the world while the inverse seeks to destroy it. My dear, find a better argument.”

  “And who decides what is peace? Is it merely the lack of violence, or a lack of discontent? It is true that acts of violence perpetrated by citizens has dropped steeply during the Order’s reign; however executions by the selfsame authority have risen proportionally. Some may believe that perhaps you are not fostering peace, but rather creating fear of expressing discontent.”

  I want to interject but I know that it’s pointless to do so. Two virtually immortal people are having a discussion, what could a twenty something guy not from this world add to the conversation that they haven’t already experienced. Prisha was clearly listening to every word being said, but she wasn’t breaking eye contact from the scaffold in the center of the square.

  Tate hasn’t been brought out just yet, so all we can do is wait for them to be brought out.

  “First there was chaos, and from that chaos order was born. There are many who seek to destroy that order, but to what end? To further the chaos? Impose their own ideals? What knowledge do they have that their world will be better than the existing one?” Godrick asks, but it doesn’t feel much like a question, it was more pointed than that.

  “Yet again you have changed the topic rather than answer a simple question. Perhaps you are incapable of doing so.” The Hermit turns to Godrick and just stares at him, he smiles. It’s sleazy.

  “On the contrary, I did answer your question. You inquired about the concept of peace, but rather than discuss peace I chose order. Peace is merely an ideal that can never be achieved because where humans exist, so exists conflict. Peace can never exist alongside sentient beings, but order can. So rather than focus on peace, why not question why someone would choose to create chaos amongst order.”

  “Answering a question with a question,” The Hermit begins, “you never cease to amuse me Godrick. I will play along with your little game. Let’s say for the sake of your argument that peace is impossible and order is the only tangible alternative, who gets to decide that order? If you were to grant a single individual power over the masses, I would classify that as control, not order.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  “In order to maintain that, you would have to prevent anyone from speaking out against the one who holds control over the masses. The only infallible course of action would be a culling, lest that disdain fester among the masses. You could distribute that control to a greater number of people, spreading out the disdain; alas that still requires the few controlling the masses and culling appears to be the only solution to avert chaos.

  “Say you hand the power to people to create order amongst themselves, but how would you do that? Every religion, race, tribe, faction, etc all have different cultures that they hold dear. They genuinely believe their way of life is the preeminent one, and should be held in such esteem. So much so that they are willing to scorch the earth in order to maintain it. So, how does one create order in a world like that?”

  “The flaw in your logic dear Hermit is that you believe people are equal, they are not.” Godrick and The Hermit are now standing face to face for their discussion. “While they may be created equal, their existence beyond that is anything but. The Ancients for example were individuals who rose far beyond the comprehension of their fellow man. Gods among men would be an appropriate way to describe it. Should beings such as them have an equal say over the world, or should their control be equal to that of their power? The average man of this world can not walk hand in hand with the Ancients, so why should he have equal say? With that I say that allowing the masses to create order themselves is illogical and serves no purpose. Someone must carry the burden for creating that order.”

  “I see.” The Hermit smiles and they place their hand gently on the cheek of Godrick. They look at him with eyes of pity. “You are a feeble man who felt inadequate next to The Ancients, and as long as they walked this Earth you could never truly hold power for you are not fit to to do so when they exist. So you cast them out, along with us to ensure that you remain as the only truly powerful one and would use that opportunity to create the demented world you had always dreamed of.”

  The Hermit lowers their hand, and turns their gaze towards the ground, their face falls.

  “I suppose Lucias and the rest of us could take blame in that for believing we could change the world for the better.” They raise their gaze back to meet Godrick who was staring at them, mouth agape. “But I refuse to take blame for the actions of a narcissist with a god complex. For ages I have tried to fathom how you could commit such atrocities, and to what end. No matter how much I pontificated on it, I could never come to a conclusion, until today. Your narcissism knows no bounds and in defense of it, you were willing to finally confess why you did what you did all those years ago. I don’t know what your future plans are, but I can at least be content with knowing this one thing. It also brings me great joy knowing it’s all because you are simply a weak, pathetic, and feeble man.”

  The Hermit turns and motions for Prisha and myself to follow. Godrick stands unmoving, glued to the spot. He doesn’t even blink, just continues staring at the spot where The Hermit was several seconds ago.

  “Do not pay him any more mind today. He will vanish before long to go cry to his mommy.” The Hermit chuckles, they cover their mouth. “Sorry, that was a bit crass of me.”

  “It’s quite alright. He definitely deserves your ire.” Prisha responds, a rather large grin on her face.

  I’m just astounded. Are you telling me the big bad’s motivation is that he has small penis energy? Seriously? I was expecting some grand plan and in the end it’s literally just that.

  Though, I shouldn’t be surprised. I don’t know why some grand reason would make more sense than just a crazy man who was upset that there were others who were powerful than him. It obviously may not be as simple as power, it could be intelligence, good looks, or even that fact the world believed them to be gods. There is a countless list of reason he could have despised the Ancients, doesn’t change the fact that it’s childish.

  I mean, there were plenty of men who went to my gym that were hotter than me, and got all the guys without much effort. Some of them even had it all. The hot body, the hot boyfriend, and money! You didn’t see me crashing out and deciding to destroy the entire world.

  “What a loser.” I mumble out loud with a chuckle. I glance back but he was gone at this point. I definitely exhaled a sigh of relief at that one. If he heard me call him a loser, I’m a little worried he would take my head off. I would very much like to keep that one on please.

  “Let us not focus on him any longer for they are bringing your friend out now.”

  “How are we going to get them out of here without causing chaos?” Prisha asks and she looks around the square, taking in her surroundings.

  “Maybe we just grab Tate and get the hell out of Dodge?” I ask wondering if perhaps the best thing we can do is just do it and run.

  “I fear we are far passed that. Our comrades are most likely locked in battle with the Touched and we are currently in the city square with a large crowd of people. We are not simply walking away from this one, but I’d rather not be the cause of lost lives or destruction.” Prisha stares at the platform, the cogs in her mind clearly working overtime.

  “Perhaps what we need is spectacle. Drive the crowd out and once they have dispersed, rescue your friend. It’s not perfect, but I feel it’s the best we can do in such short notice.” The Hermit motions towards the platform where two members of the Touched are escorting Tate.

  “What’s with all the Touched?” Prisha wonders out loud. “Why are they all in the same place? It’s rare for them to all be together like this.”

  “Well, we don’t have a lot of time to think about that one. Ugh, I’m going to hate this.” I only have one idea on how to make a spectacle and it’s to basically look like some super villain with a booming voice. The kind that shows up during the climax, lights flashing, and scares all the towns people to death before the hero rushes in to save them.

  I don’t want to look like the villain, why is this the thought that crossed my brain. Why couldn’t Prisha be the one to do this one?

  “Just make me sound scary, okay?” I say to Prisha before taking a step back.

  “Um, sure, I guess.” She agrees, not sure to what though.

  I take a deep breath, and begin focusing my mind.

  “Hypogravity.” I whisper as my feet slowly lift off the ground and I begin drifting upwards above the crowd. I haven’t practiced a ton of magic, so there isn’t much I can do spectacle wise so I focus on pulling all the water out of the air and condensing into little drops, causing it start raining in the city square.

  “Lightning would be good too.” I whisper out loud, trying with all my might to picture it in my minds eye. Thankfully, it works, and a bolt of lightning shoots across the sky. I look down towards Prisha, she takes a deep breath.

  “And Jame’s voice boomed above the crowd terrifyingly.” Prisha shrugs and then nods. I guess that’s my cue.

  “Sirius!” My voice booms, reverberating through the square. Ooh that sounds scary. “It is I, the Magician of the Major Arcana and I’m here to destroy the Order!”

  “Oh gods, what are we doing?” Prisha face palms and shakes her head.