Stains of the Hunter

The order of dragon slayers didn't offer their conscripts this much recovery period after injury typically. Maybe three days was enough, stitching wounds, receive the medical mage on staff, and a last day for recuperation if the damage was extensive. The average civilian hospital didn't seem to keep trained medical mages on staff however, so my injuries were set to be healed the mundane way. time, medicine, boredom. and it was too much of all of those things. restlessness wasn't tolerated or even understood by the nurses. When Arthur came to visit he was the only one who even seemed to listen to my grievances. It gave us a lot of time to talk. too much.

Arthur was the type who wasn't content to let a moment pass without a word to its passing. In our time together here I already knew about his job, his time in the Order, his childhood, his preferences for food and hobby. He waxed poetic about the country side out here and the sun shine. In between each comment he speckled questions about me. My refusal to answer never discouraged him either. So this morning when we sat in silence for several hours, watching the the clouds pass and the sunlight turn orange, I knew our conversation yesterday must have affected him. He was being... polite. His quiet silhouette by the window was like the sunset itself. Gold hair and purple shadows across his face, expression of contemplation stiffening his brow. I liked him like this, I remember thinking all too soon.

He turned to face me finally, the look of curiosity on his fine features once more. "You know I've got some dark deeds in my past too," he offered sympathetically.

"so... you joined the order?" I found the words when it was clear he was looking for my input, an annoying behavior of his I hated indulging.

"Actually, its why I left." His eyes crinkled with a slight smile. So this is what he'd been thinking about this whole time. Had I not been firm enough last time? I would be returning to the order after this, no matter the opinion of an ex-hunter.

This time I held my tongue when he tilted his head. The edge of that smile was beginning to irk. But, he kept his resolve, and his persistence like a true hunter and crossed his arms.

"You know, from my view, it was only because of the order I finding more guilt." His expression hardened slightly, remembering it all. Yes, guilt. It is a pillar of the human experience, something that apparently few monstrous creatures can feel. My remorse is what makes me so unique, it is what allows me to pay back the world for my crimes. I would have told him so if it weren't for the purse of lips.

"I've killed a lot of creatures like you. Stole a lot of material from innocent peoples. After a time, the pain I caused while wearing the coat became more than I had ever caused being a troublesome kid. I was destroying all that history. Killing the only mouths who could tell the tales. I couldn't live with it after a while." He looked at me with patient expectation.

"So, you left." I finished the thought for him, the response he wanted it seemed, he smiled again. the friendly, understanding one.

"So I left. Now that I'm out I realized I was never protecting anyone with all that... and the magics and rituals were sent to the fires so I never even got to read them. You don't really find peace just doing what you're told to do. Rinsing out those stains is a personal choice, no one else can make you clean again."

I felt a pain hearing that, up in my throat like hot iron. I was about to tell him he was wrong, but I couldn't speak. He needed to be told it seemed, if he thought sins like mine could ever be forgotten or forgiven, he was wrong. He'd said it just to irritate me, I was suddenly certain.

"You think I'm lying." Amused disbelief crossed his face. And he waited, again, an agonizing amount of time, just for me to wrestle out something to say. He was the utmost fool for even daring to suggest that. What did he think should happen when a monster eats a child? or when a man bludgeons his fellows? There was no world where punishment should be withheld. Especially for a crime like mine. It felt like it took ages but words came to me.

"We pay penance for our sins." it grated in my throat

"And I'm saying that the order is never gonna give you what you're paying for. If your seven years hasn't been enough, how many more will it take?" Furiously I opened my mouth to answer. He waited patiently for my answer but it never came. He sighed and took his coat and hat from the hook. The black of the church, of the night itself, and he covered himself in it.

"it's not what you'd wanna hear I think. But don't just take it from me big guy. Think about it. and I'll come back tomorrow."

He closed the door gently. The lock clicked and I listened to him walk down the empty hallway. I would never have had this much time to sit and think if it weren't for him, nor would I have so much to think about. How would she have responded to this? Would she have wanted me to let go of her? of her suffering?

Maybe... maybe I would ask him, when he returned tomorrow.