CHAPTER 63: SOLTAIR

I passed the rest of the banquet on the stand, trying not to associate with anyone. The heroes wandered about, returning frequently for more wine or a brief reprieve from the intense social climate, but soon departed again. Occasionally, someone approached and engage me in conversation, but it soon became apparent I was only an object of curiosity, and soon forgotten.

As the night wound down, Soltair returned, collapsing in the seat next to me. Although he carried himself well, his collar was moist with sweat and I could see a slight slump in his shoulders.

A few minutes later, the Pope rose and gave some final words, thanking the attendees and formally beginning the festival. There were cheers, claps, and some final toasts, and then guests began to file away. I shivered as more than a few guests clung to whatever maid happened to take their fancy, no doubt intending to take the celebration to their bed chambers.

Soltair regained his feet and offered his hand. I gave a small wave to Korra before accepting it, allowing the Sun Hero to raise me to my feet. His hand was clammy and cold, and there were subtle hints of anxiety buried deep within his tone.

"Shall we go?"

I nodded, allowing him to lead me by the arm again. Although I permitted the gentlemanly gesture, I couldn’t bring myself to stand too near to him, keeping far enough apart our bodies wouldn’t accidentally brush against each other. If he noticed he gave no reaction, and we returned to the slave quarters in quick order.

Once we arrived outside my door, Soltair sighed, pausing for a moment before opening it. "Xiviyah, a word?"

"As you wish," I said, giving him a slight curtsy before entering the room.

He stiffened at my subservient tone and a shadow crossed his face as he followed me in. The door shut with finality, plunging us into an awkward silence. I sat on the bed, folding my arms and staring at him.

He pulled up the one chair in the room, which creaked under his armored mass as he settled down. He squirmed under my gaze for a moment, then rubbed his head and sighed. "I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to. Xiviyah, about tonight... I’m sorry."

The turmoil I’d kept in my heart threatened to burst, but I maintained my composure and just waited quietly, refraining from judgment. I’d thought of several conclusions, but I at least owed him a chance to explain himself.

After waiting a moment to see if I’d interject, he continued. "Yesterday, the Pope made his intentions clear to me and asked that I not interfere. Naturally, I fought him on it, but his argument was compelling. The truth is, this world functions on entirely different principles than our old ones, and you’ve been caught in the middle of it."

I shifted uncomfortably at his words, dropping a hand to stroke my tail, which lay beside me on the bed. "Does this have something to do with your little adventure with Trithe?" I asked, trying to understand what he was getting at.

After a brief moment of hesitation, he nodded. "Where I’m from, we judged a man on his merit, not his background. Those who did evil were considered evil. Those who did good were good."

"And is not this world the same? Don’t we all have the freedom to make our choices?" I asked, as much to reassure myself as anything.

"Free?" he laughed shortly. "You should know better than anyone that’s not true." His expression sobered again, and his tone regained that touch of uncertainty. "This world is different, not because of moral blindspots or social inequality, but because of power. If one is to be judged on merit and granted universal rights, there must be a standard of equality. But how can that be when the elves live for a thousand years? The short lifespan of a human cannot possibly span the gap between knowledge, education, and personal ability. Man for man, an elf is worth significantly more than a human in every way, and thus holds an intrinsically greater value to society."

I thought of Selena, and shook my head. "That can’t be true. The elves are nearly slaves here!"

"Maybe here, in the Sun God’s sphere of influence, but not outside. Two of the heroes are elves, yet not a single discriminatory word was spoken to them, even by the residents of the Divine Throne. Furthermore, there exist far more intelligent species than what we’ve seen here. The more powerful dragons of this world are capable of taking on entire kingdoms by themselves. Why would a dragon choose to respect a human life when the same difference exists between it and us as man and ant? Even I’d get upset if someone told me an ant’s life was equal to my own."

His rebuttal caught me off guard, and I couldn’t help but agree. Even so, something didn’t quite feel right. "But Soltair, this isn’t about dragons or ants. It’s about us. Me and you. I don’t believe you’re comparing me to an ant, but what else are you referring to?"

He rose from his chair, pacing back and forth. After several steps, he paused and turned, resolve hardening in his eyes. "The difference between us isn’t that of physical power, like a dragon, but of morals. I’ve seen the demonkin, Xiviyah. They are pure evil. While humans can be persuaded to desire good or evil, it’s different for them. It’s not something that’s learned, but inherited by blood."

I gasped, feeling the blood drain from my face. "But can’t they choose to be good? Surely not all of them delight in shedding blood! How else could they coexist in the Beast Kingdom?"

"I don’t know," he said bleakly. "But the records and histories are very clear. I’ve heard rumors that they were treated as outcasts, even in the most tolerable nation in Enusia. But this I do know. When Trithe and I led that squad of knights, a demonkin cult opposed us. They sacrificed an entire village: men, women, and children, so that they could open a demon gate. By the time we arrived, the gutters were slick with blood, and the bodies lay in rotting heaps about the fiendish alter. Screams lingered in the air as their souls were ripped from the world, devoured to rend the barrier between the Demon’s land and our own."

His voice had fallen to a hollow whisper by the time he finished, and I could see the horrendous scene reflected in his eyes. I curled my tail tight about me, suppressing a series of shivers that shook me to the core.

"But not me," I said softly, almost pleading.

"Not yet," he corrected, voice barely above a whisper.

I shuddered, almost unable to process his response. "Is that how you see me? As a demon?"

The question paralleled something I’d once asked him, barely days after he dragged my half-dead body from the warehouse. His loving resolve, which had sustained me through many lonely nights, was dimmed.

"I’ve lived in denial, scorning the words of the leaders of this world, but I can’t hide from it anymore. You are a demonkin," he said, tears leaking down his cheeks. "And nothing I can do will change that."

His words penetrated me to the core, tearing at what little trust and love I’d managed to gather in my heart since he first held me in his arms. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I lowered my head, allowing them to flow unhindered.

"I want to protect you," he said shakily, his voice breaking, "and care for you as I once did, but that feels impossible now. The entire world needs to be united against the demons if we are to win, and I’m supposed to lead them. Every time I try to help, I end up making things worse, like at the banquet. I just don’t know what to do."

For a brief instant, I got a glimpse of what was going on inside, and my heart softened. He was torn between two worlds, and I was a symbol of the old. It wasn’t that he cared for me less, or thought me less important. He was being forced to choose, and to let one side go.

"Soltair," I murmured, catching his gaze, "I’ve always thought that I could face any problem as long as you were with me. Even on the darkest nights, I refused to give up knowing you would be there in the morning. I don’t care about being a demonkin, or a slave. I only care about being with you. If it’s my comfort, dignity or life... those are sacrifices I’m willing to make. Just don’t leave me..."

I broke off as sobs wracked my body. A moment later, a strong hand fell on my head, stroking my hair comfortingly. I looked up and saw Soltair’s tear-stained face level with mine.

"I’m sorry for hurting you, and I can no longer protect you," he said softly, "but if you are willing, I want nothing more than to have you at my side."

"Even if I turn into a demon?" I asked tentatively, hinging my heart on his reply.

"Don’t," he said, pleading with his eyes. "Just don’t. I can’t do this without you."

His words were less than reassuring, but what alternative did I have? My tail tingled as I thought of the church’s plan to ship me off to some heartless noble. Even if Soltair’s duty as a hero meant he could no longer act the same way toward me, I knew that, in his heart, he was the same lovable man I’d tied myself to. Once we left the Divine Throne, wouldn’t he be able to drop the act and care for me openly once more?

I clung to that hope and nodded, wiping away the tears in my eyes. "I’ll put my faith in you. Just please don’t leave me..."

"I’ll remain by your side as long as I can," he said firmly.

He remained for a while longer, and we discussed a great deal of topics. It’d been some time since we’d truly had a chance to communicate, and I embraced the opportunity to speak with someone who would listen. But, all too soon, Soltair had to retire. As he turned to leave, I sprang up, throwing myself around him and burying my head into his chest. He gasped, taking a step back at the sudden advance, but awkwardly returned it, patting my head gently. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to ignore the tension in his body and pretend everything was as it used to be.

After he left, I collapsed onto the bed and began to sort out my feelings. From the humiliation of the banquet to the conversations with Korra and Soltair, I was worn out. Yet, despite the troubles, I felt peace. Fate’s words echoed in my mind, urging to me live life as it was, and seek to find happiness no matter what came. Perhaps that’s what she stood for. Accepting the truth and living as best one could.