The Slaughterer's Philosophy
"Hah..."
Shit.
"Witch……."
His voice was cracked raw — the sound of blood scraping up through a throat scorched by fire.
"Witch!"
A low rumble rose from deep inside Alduin's throat.
Grrrr.
I lifted my hand slightly.
"It's okay, Al."
Alduin stopped, though his golden eyes stayed locked on the survivor. I shook my head just a fraction.
"Just watch for now."
I'm holding back because I want to kill him too.
Alduin's rumble sank lower.
The survivor's face went even paler at the sight. Even so, he would not stop talking.
"A witch who… who commands dragons!"
I didn't dodge those words. I couldn't. In that man's eyes, I already looked exactly that way.
"You sent it." The survivor spoke through clenched teeth. "You sent that monster!"
"No." My answer was quiet. "I didn't send it."
"Liar."
"I'm not lying."
I didn't step any closer. I didn't want to cut off his path of retreat.
"I only just found out that child was gone. At mealtime, the seat was empty — that's when I came looking."
"That child?" The survivor laughed. It was closer to a blood-flecked cough than a laugh. "You call that a child?"
"Yes." I nodded. "To me, it is a child."
The survivor's face twisted.
"Then what about our child?"
I swallowed.
He beat his ash-caked hand against his own chest. "What was our child supposed to be?"
"Your child was a child too," I said slowly. "Of course."
The survivor stopped — just for a moment.
"I don't know your child's face," I said. "I don't know the name, or the voice, or the food they liked."
His lips trembled.
"But I know they lived here."
"……."
"They might have hated getting up in the morning. They might have left food unfinished. They might have asked someone to carry them."
The flames wavered inside the collapsed house. Listening to that sound, I went on.
"That life burned."
Anger filled the survivor's eyes again.
"You know that and you still protect it?"
"I'm not protecting it."
Khing.
The child flinched. I spoke gently to it.
"You did wrong."
"Khing……."
"Even if you were hit first, you shouldn't have burned everything."
The child lowered its long neck.
I looked at the survivor again.
"But your words aren't the whole truth either."
His eyes sharpened.
"What?"
I pointed at the spear and iron chains scattered across the ground.
"This child was attacked first."
"So what?" the survivor shouted. "So because it got stabbed, it's fine to burn an entire village?"
"No." I shook my head. "That's not it."
"Then why say it!"
"Because we have to see both."
He stopped breathing.
I continued in a low voice.
"You're in so much pain right now that you can only see one side."
"……."
"That's not because you're a bad person."
The survivor's hands trembled.
"But I have to see both."
I looked at the spear and the chains.
"I have to see that this child was attacked first."
I looked at the burned village.
"And I have to see that this child burned the village."
"……."
"If you only look at one, the other becomes a lie."
The survivor clenched his teeth.
"Shut up……."
"Your grief is real," I said. "No matter what anyone says, it's real."
He glared at me.
I looked at the wound.
"And this child's wound is real too."
The child cried softly.
"Kii……."
"And this child's sin is real too."
At those words, the child's crying stopped.
I tried not to shake. I wanted to cry. But if I cried now, the survivor would hear my tears as an excuse. So at least for now, I couldn't cry.
"I know what you want me to say," I told him. "You want me to call this child a monster."
"It is a monster!"
"Yes."
The survivor flinched.
I nodded gently.
"To you, it is a monster."
Alduin's golden eyes wavered as well. I didn't look back at either of them.
"How could the being that burned your home look like a child?" I said. "How could the being that took your family look pitiful?"
The survivor exhaled roughly.
"Then……."
"But to me, it is a child," I said quietly. "Because I raised it."
"……."
"I've watched it since it was small. I've seen it drool at the smell of meat, lower its head when scolded, hide its wings when hurt."
The child cried very softly.
"Khing……."
"So to me, it's a child. And you lot came to hunt my child… well. There's no polite way to put this. You're bastards."
I didn't look away from the survivor's eyes.
"And that child committed a sin."
When those words fell, the sound of the flames seemed a little farther away.
The survivor said nothing.
I continued slowly.
"Even if it's a child, the sin doesn't disappear."
"……."
"And just because it looks like a monster to you, that doesn't mean the wound never happened."
The survivor's face twisted.
"Then what am I supposed to do," he asked low. "What do you want me to do."
"You live."
My answer was short.
His eyes widened.
"What?"
"Live," I said again. "What you need to do right now is survive first."
His lips trembled.
"Don't make me laugh."
"I wasn't trying to be funny."
"Why should I live!" he screamed. "Why am I the only one left alive to see this!"
I couldn't answer right away. There was no answer I could give to that question. No matter how long you live, you can't lightly answer a question like that.
I had lived five hundred years.
And I still didn't know.
So I said I didn't know.
"I don't know."
The survivor froze.
"……What?"
"I don't know why you survived either," I said. "If I claimed I knew, that would be a lie."
His eyes wavered.
"But you're alive right now."
"……."
"Then right now, you need to breathe."
"What does that even……."
"You don't need some grand meaning to be alive."
I tried to choose simple words. The flames before me were too vivid to bury under lofty language.
"If you're still breathing, you're alive. If you're alive, you take the next breath."
"……."
"After you take the next breath, you can say one name you remember."
The survivor's pupils trembled.
"A name……."
"Yes." I nodded. "A dragon's breath burns a village and takes lives." I spoke slowly. "But a human's breath can take in air — and speak a name."
He swallowed hard. He looked toward the collapsed house. Who had been there, I didn't know. But he would.
"If you die," I said, "this village remains only as one burned village."
"……."
"If you live, you can leave behind who lived here."
The survivor's face twisted — whether from anger or grief, I couldn't tell.
"What does that change."
"The dead don't come back," I said. "That doesn't change."
Anger rose in his eyes again.
"Then why……."
"But it doesn't become something that never happened," I said quietly. "I can't bring them back — but I can keep them from vanishing as something no one ever knew about."
He stopped breathing.
I couldn't tell if he understood. Maybe he couldn't understand anything right now. Still, I had to say it.
"What I can give you is little," I said. "I can't return your family. I can't rebuild your home. I can't make you forgive me."
"……."
"And I have no intention of that either. When I think about what you people did to my child, I want to tear you apart."
The survivor looked at me.
I spoke very quietly.
"But you don't have to forgive."
"……."
"You don't need to forgive me."
"……."
"You don't have to forgive this child either."
The kid flinched.
I spoke gently to the child as well.
"Even if you're never forgiven, you still have to learn what a sin is."
The survivor's lips parted.
I slowly drew a breath. The reek of smoke scraped the inside of my lungs.
"I'm going to take this child with me."
"No." He answered at once. "Kill it."
At those words, Alduin's eyes narrowed.
I raised my hand to stop him.
"It's okay."
Alduin's rumble cut off.
The survivor saw that and sneered.
"See. It stops again."
"I won't kill it," I said.
"Why!" he screamed. "Why won't you kill it!"
"Because it's my child."
"Even though it killed our child?"
"Yes."
My voice trembled. But I tried not to let my tone waver.
"Even so, it's my child."
The survivor looked at me as if I were insane. I didn't avoid that gaze.
"So I'm going to take it and teach it."
"Teach it?"
"Yes."
"After it burned everything?"
"Yes."
"After it killed everyone?"
I swallowed.
"Yes."
His face twisted.
"Is that supposed to be a punishment?"
"It will be punished too."
"Don't make me laugh."
"It will sound ridiculous to you." I nodded. "That's fair."
"You have to kill it!" the survivor screamed. "That's what's right! If it burned people, it has to die! If a monster kills people, you kill it!"
The child's body trembled. It probably didn't fully understand the word death. But it felt the survivor's hostility. A small spark tried to leap from inside its throat again.
I spoke at once.
"Swallow it."
The child stopped.
The survivor saw that and wailed again.
"Why does that thing stop at a single word from you — but it didn't stop for our screams!"
At those words, this time I froze.
The sound of the flames faded too. I couldn't hear Alduin's breathing either.
The survivor's words were neither polite nor calm. But they were precise.
It didn't stop for their screams, did it.
I had to find an answer. It didn't take long. The answer had been there from the beginning. I simply hadn't wanted to put it in my mouth.
"Because that's how I taught it."
The survivor's eyes wavered.
"What?"
"I taught it to stop at my word."
The child was looking at me.
"I haven't properly taught it yet how to stop for the screams of other lives."
When those words left my mouth, my chest sank. I slowly bowed my head.
"That's my fault."
The survivor said nothing. Alduin didn't move. The child that had burned the village didn't cry.
"This child's sin doesn't disappear," I said. "But I have a sin too."
"……."
"If I'm a mother—" I clenched my fists tight. "I should have taught it how to stop even in places where my voice isn't there."
The inside of my throat burned.
"I failed at that."
The survivor was looking at me. The hatred hadn't vanished. The anger hadn't vanished. But in his eyes, for just a moment, something like a crack appeared.
"So what," he asked. "You say you're sorry and that's the end of it?"
"No." I raised my head. "I haven't even talked about your sins yet. That was me being considerate — but should I just go ahead?"
"……."
"But if we forgive each other, from today on these children will learn again."
"What does learning change."
"The next village might not burn."
The survivor clenched his teeth.
"Our village already burned."
"I know."
"My child is already dead."
"I know."
"And you're talking about next?"
He laughed. The laugh ran like blood.
"Because of the 'next' you're talking about, I lost my now."
"You're right," I said. "So it won't be any comfort to you."
"……."
"But I still have to do it."
The survivor glared at me.
"Just because I can't save the dead doesn't mean I can let the living die too," I said slowly. "Just because it's already burned doesn't mean I don't have to stop the next fire."
The flames wavered inside the collapsed house. I stood with that light at my back. Before me was the survivor. Beside me was the child that had sinned. Behind me was Alduin. All of them were looking at me.
"You can curse me," I told the survivor. "You can tell the kingdom. You can tell the knights, you can tell the mages. You can say there was a witch who commands dragons."
A low rumble rose from within Alduin's throat. Without looking back, I said,
"Alduin. Stop."
The rumble stopped.
I kept looking at the survivor.
"I won't stop your mouth."
His face hardened.
"Why."
"Because you have to speak."
"What?"
"Because you have to speak of this village."
"……."
"Because you have to speak of the people who died."
The survivor's lips trembled.
"And—" I drew a breath. "If you speak, I can't run away either."
Those words were also for myself.
If no one knew, it would have been easy. Bury everything in the fire, take the child back to the canyon, and live as before. Then time would pass, memory would fade, and someday this village would grow hazy inside me too.
I hated that. It felt like something I must not do.
"If you live and speak, I can't forget."
The survivor looked at me.
"So live," I said quietly. "Live while hating me."
Tears fell from his eyes. This time, anger couldn't hold them back. Tears ran down his ash-covered face. He clenched his teeth, but he couldn't stop the crying.
"My daughter," he said. "Her name was Milia."
I stopped breathing.
"She was seven."
"……."
"She hated the thick crusts of bread."
He looked toward the collapsed house.
"This morning she cried saying she didn't want them, and..."
I couldn't say anything.
"And." He looked at me again. "Now I'm the only one who remembers that."
I nodded.
"Yes."
"Only me."
"Yes."
He glared at me.
"If you forget, I'll kill you."
Alduin rumbled low. I raised my hand. Alduin stopped.
I looked at the survivor and said,
"I won't forget."
"I'm supposed to believe that?"
"You don't have to believe me. But I won't forget."
The survivor looked at me for a long time. There was still hatred in those eyes. The fact that the hatred hadn't vanished strangely put me at ease. If he had forgiven me, it would have been harder to bear.
"Go," I said. "If you want to live, go. My patience has limits too."
The survivor braced himself against the wall and stood. One leg wouldn't move properly, and he nearly collapsed several times.
I reflexively reached out a hand.
He snapped sharply.
"Don't help me."
I stopped.
"Okay."
"I don't want your help."
"Alright."
"Don't give me orders."
"Understood."
"And don't let your dragon move."
"I'll keep it still."
I still spoke gently. That was all I could do right now.
The survivor clenched his teeth and moved one step at a time — past the burned fence, past the blackened path, toward the edge of the forest the flames hadn't yet reached.
He fell several times. He got up several times. Each time, Alduin's body shifted minutely, and I raised my hand to stop him.
At the edge of the forest, the survivor looked back one last time.
"Witch," he said.
This time it wasn't a shout. Still, that word hurt.
"You didn't save me."
"Yes." I nodded.
"I survived on my own."
"Yes."
"Don't get it twisted."
"Yes."
"And you haven't been forgiven either."
"I know."
He clenched his teeth.
"Milia."
I looked at him.
"My daughter's name. Remember it clearly."
I said slowly,
"Milia."
The survivor's eyes wavered.
"Don't forget."
"I won't forget."
He said no more. He disappeared into the shadows of the forest.
I stood in place until he was completely out of sight.
Even after he was gone, I couldn't move for a while.
The flames were still burning. Black smoke rose into the sky.
Alduin carefully rumbled.
Grr…….
Only then did I exhale.
The tears I'd been holding back rushed up all at once to my throat.
"Hh……."
Covering my mouth did no good. The tears kept falling. The strength left my knees. I sank down in the middle of the burned village.
"Hic……."
Alduin lowered his body in alarm.
Grr?
The child also panicked and stretched its head toward me.
"Kii……?"
I raised my hand to stop them.
"It's okay."
My voice was wet.
"No." I shook my head. "It's not okay."
They both stopped. They listened even now. That hurt even more.
"Just—" The words broke between sobs. "Let me cry a little."
No one could answer.
I cried for a long time.
Much later, I finally wiped my face with the back of my hand. Ash and tears tangled together into more of a mess, but I didn't care.
"Let's go back."
My voice was completely hoarse.
Alduin carefully rumbled.
Grr…….
"Yes." I shook my head. "I'm not going because I'm okay."
Because there's a mountain of hard things ahead, and peaceful days won't be that many.
"Mom cried it all out in advance."
Because I always have to show only a strong face in front of the kids.
"You two should plan on crying a lot today."
"Grrr?"
Because I'm going to lecture you endlessly.
Brace yourselves.