Chapter 217: Airing of Grievances (2/2)

Mike felt the anger ebb out of him, leaving him tired and empty. He watched as his friend sat back down on the bed, face in his hands. ”I know you probably won't believe me, but the only time she interfered was during the fight against the Tenundians.”

The beastman scoffed, ”It doesn't matter. You were right. I have been doing this half-heartedly. I never asked to be the King of Thieves, or get involved in territorial acquisitions, but I didn't fight against it either. When one of my subordinates suggested we help the defense forces against the invaders, I didn't even stop to think about the consequences.”

His voice took on a hollow cast as he continued. ”I led them there, to that hell, and they followed me willingly, never doubting me. They trusted me to protect them in battle, and died believing that they were helping me. Even now, with so many of their fallen comrades filling pauper's graves, they still look at me with hope.”

Brenden looked up at him, despair wrought in every line of his face. ”Even when I failed to protect my subordinates, they treat me like a hero. How can I go on like this? How can I lead them in battle again, knowing that even more will pay for my hubris? How do I carry the burden of their expectations?”

For a moment, Mike was silent. The words had struck a chord in him, reminding him a bit too much of the worshipful way people had been looking at him when he wore his mask. Like he was their savior come to deliver them from all of their problems.

He also heard the quiet recriminations of a certain dark being calling from the depths of an abyssal pool. One that pointed out his own failures and inadequacies. His own powerlessness to prevent the suffering of the people around him, and his own unwillingness to make the hard choices that were required of him.

[So this is what it looks like from the outside. Kind of ridiculous, now that I think about it.] The more he thought about it, the more he felt relieved of some unnoticed burden. Something that he'd been carrying around without ever realizing it.

”Brenden...” He started uncertainly, before growing in conviction. ”You aren't perfect, nor are you all-powerful. No mortal is, and from what I've heard about the gods, I don't think they are either. You are beating yourself up about this failure of yours, but let me ask you this, if you really failed, would we be having this conversation right now?”

The beastman blinked, ”What do you...”

”If the gate had fallen, and the Tenundian army had entered the city, do you think we would have the luxury of worrying about the death toll? No, we'd be fighting for our lives, running from the city in ignominy, or laying dead in the streets. And that also goes for everyone who is staying at this inn right now.”

Brenden flinched, as if he'd been visibly struck. ”But if I had done better...led them better...If I had gone all out from the start, then maybe...”

Mike sighed. ”People die in war. Neither you nor I can change that fact. Its something that every man and woman that followed you into battle must have known, but they chose to stand beside you anyway.” A sad smile split his face, as he relived the memory of the fight. ”In many ways, I'm a little jealous. You've only known these people for a week, and they were ready to lay down their lives because you asked them to. Because they believed in what you were doing. That's not something I've been able to accomplish.”

”They were just protecting their homes and families.”

”And yet, I didn't see any of the other gangs fighting at the gate. It was only those individuals you led, people that many would see as common criminals, who risked everything to keep us safe from the invaders. You were the one to inspire them.” His smile deepened, ”Lara was right. You are the real deal.”

Brenden stared at him for a few moments, a question forming on his lips, when he was interrupted by a sob.

They both turned to look at the door, where Lara and several others were standing with tears in their eyes. It wasn't clear how long they had been listening, but neither of them had heard the door open. She clasped and unclasped her hands a few times, before running up to Brenden and throwing her arms around his neck.

A small army of beastman children followed her example, mobbing him in a crying tide. Mike observed with some measure of satisfaction that Brenden's face went slack with shock, before morphing into indignation, and finally settling into amusement.

”You're too hard on yourself, kid. I can promise you, that nobody blames you for what happened.” A rough looking bear beastman commented from the doorway. Mike vaguely recalled him as being the leader of a rival gang, one that had become a subordinate of Brenden after losing to him.

The erstwhile King of Thieves couldn't bring himself to reply, obviously feeling emotional.

Mike saw this as his cue to leave, and started heading to the door. He had a feeling that the rest of the conversation could wait.

”Mike...” Brenden called, arresting his progress. He looked like he wanted to say more, but didn't seem to know how to start.

”I'll be back.” Mike replied to the unasked question. ”There were a few dishes on the menu that I still wanted to try.”

He left the tavern and started heading to the market district, feeling better about things than he had in a long while. Although, he had to admit, it made him a bit lonesome as well.

Perhaps sensing his discomfort, Audra popped out if her pocket for the first time today, crawled up onto his shoulder, and nuzzled into his neck.

”Well, good to see you up and about. I was starting to get worried.” He murmured while scratching under the little dragon's head.

With a smile on his face, he left the slums, moving onto his next destination.