Gaspard took a moment to think himself a fool.

He had stepped out of the dead philosopher’s manor for a moment, to breathe air that was relatively free of the iron-heavy stink of blood. He had forgotten, carelessly, that the bloody air he fled from was sweet ambrosia to other things lurking in the city. Far more idiotically, he had left his sword inside.

The universe had showed him some mercy, in that the creature which jumped on him was relatively small. It had likely been a dog once, in some other life, and had not been swollen to monstrous size like the hound that had nearly claimed Gaspard’s arm. This beast dug it’s fangs into Gaspard’s forearm, but they did not pierce the armor he had been smart enough to keep on. Rolling away from the beast and kicking at it with one leg, Gaspard managed to dislodge it from his arm. While it rattled from the impacts, Gaspard dove atop it.

The beast was sickly and starved, barely capable of mustering the strength to bite Gaspard, much less to wrestle him off it’s back. It struggled and gave out a bloody gurgle as Gaspard dug his bare hands into the stringy flesh of its throat. His fingernails pierced the surface without even trying, leaking dark blood onto Gaspard’s hands.

The beast that had once been a dog struggled under Gaspard’s grip, letting out a single panicked whine, long and slow. The sound of it almost made Gaspard relent, but the twisted visage before him reminded him that his foe was no longer the beloved household pet it had once been. Only for a moment, as the last gasps of life choked out of it, did Gaspard see even a shade of the loyal companion it had once been.

As the beast fell silent, Gaspard stepped away, and cleaned bloody hands. With silence once again returned to the street, Gaspard found a safer place to rest, and dared to close his eyes.

In the absence of sight, the stench hit him first. The beast had brought the miasma of decay with it. When the wind changed, some relief from the inescapable rot presented itself in the form of the sulfurous scent of ash and burnt flesh. A reminder that the ruins of the palace still smoldered. Yet the fire had not purified it, not in any way Gaspard might have hoped for.

He had seen fire as some form of purification. But in the end it proved to be just another form of decay. Faster, perhaps, and cleaner, but just a more accelerated form of the entropic rot that was consuming everything around Gaspard. Like that which would soon be settling into the brutalized corpse of the philosopher, left to rot in the dining hall.

Only now, with his bloody mission complete, did Gaspard feel any hesitance towards his objective. It had been a goal, yes, but now Gaspard wondered if there had been any purpose. The stench of decay and ash on the wind proved that his crusade had changed nothing. The world was still choked with death and fire. The dead hulk of the beast and the blood on his hands proved that his revenge had made nothing better.

But there was silence, at least. Within and without.

Gaspard supposed that was enough. The death of the beast had earned him silence without, and the death of the liars had earned him silence within. He no longer lived with the burden of their deception, no longer had to pursue some blind justice.

Gaspard had not brought any good into the world -but he had removed evil.

With that small satisfaction driving him forward, Gaspard rose, and went to retrieve his sword. There was still a great deal of evil left to be faced -though Gaspard had little reason to pursue it. Better to find himself a place place in which to hide and wait out the world’s decay, leaving the monsters to consume themselves or starve, as they most certainly would without his interference.

But perhaps before taking that well-deserved break, Gaspard would see to a few other things. He had yet to thank the red-haired woman for saving his life, after all.

With the corpse of the lying philosopher behind him, his sword at his side, and a city of death in front of him, Gaspard set out. This time on a mission of gratitude, not vengeance.