"How many, when presented with a hated enemy who was responsible for the deaths of their loved ones right before them, would be able to refrain from exacting vengeance upon them? How many would be able to cut off the circle of violence, and forgive?

Violence only begets more violence and lest one party takes the initiative to stop and forgive, to let go, the cycle would never stop, and just result in more pain and suffering for all involved, why can't all those warmongers see this truth?" - Demetrios Veritas, philosopher and scholar from the First Elmaiya Empire.

"What options do we have?" Aideen said to break the silence that descended as everybody in the room pondered the reports and grandpa Aarin silently waited for them to speak.

"Well, there are basically two paths you can take before you, in my opinion," Nec Aarin replied with a bony smirk on his face, as everyone raised their heads and listened to his next words. "One route leads to violence, where you take your armies and attack, avenge the wrong you have received with your own hands."

"Should you do this, I will offer my support, and help ensure that nobody will interfere, so it will just be a matter between you, and this Beragonys to settle," continued the Bone Lord as everyone waited for him to say more. "Or you can choose to let go of the matter. You have left the land behind, have you not? Started new lives here, new families. Why risk everything for sentimentality, or something so hollow as vengeance?"

The family pondered together, and they gathered, discussing their opinions with each other. Some incongruent points were brought out by some of them, that others couldn't help but to agree with, and after a while - during which time the Bone Lord patiently waited for them - Maebh stepped forward, having decided to ask the question that bothered her.

"Grandpa Aarin, no… Bone Lord, I just would like to ask one thing…" she said with some obvious nervousness in her voice. Aideen laid a supporting hand on Maebh's shoulder and helped her remain steady. "You have such power in your hands, and I doubted that even if Antemeia and Junora allied in their prime, neither would have been able to stop your armies. So why have you allowed them to exist for this long?"

"Or for that matter… why would you even allow the current Vitalica to exist at all?" Maebh said as she finished her question and took a deep, nervous breath.

"The main reason I can give to that, child… is some lingering sentimentality," replied the Bone lord in a kindly, yet melancholic tone. "The first Flesh Artisan, the founder of their order, was once my disciple. So was the original spirit servant. The nations they left behind, are in a way the last reminders of their lives in this world to most."

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"Though I am not so sentimental to stay my hand should their successors or descendants crossed a line," he continued on, with a somehow sad smile on his skeletal face. "Like what brought about the end of Junora, for example."

"But what about the people who live there?" Maebh braved herself to ask. "Does their suffering mean nothing to you, grandpa?"

To her surprise, the Bone Lord just gave one of his chittering laughs in reply, as if what she had said was funny.

"Child, do not be fooled into thinking that just because I treat my people well, it means I care for people's well being in general," said the Bone Lord after he finished his laughter. "I have lived far too long for that, and to me… most people are little different to ants, their lives ephemeral, there and gone in but mere moments, often with little to show as proof that they had once existed."

"I would make sure that those who lived under my protection would live well, yes, for that is just common courtesy to offer when you place yourself so high above them, yet to them I barely feel anything," he explained straightforwardly to Maebh. "My disciples, and their families, like you all, are probably amongst the few I actually care for, yet even so, I understood that compared to me your existences would be ephemeral, and thus I am content to allow you to find your own paths in life for the most part. I would only provide the rope, so to speak, and whether you use it to climb higher or to fashion a noose to hang yourself with, is entirely up to you."

The family remained silent as they listened to the Bone Lord's words, his viewpoint, one they could not truly understand themselves, yet at the same time, time might indeed lead someone to think that way. It also brought to Aideen's mind that grandpa Aarin had existed since long before any of the current countries existed, and it filled her with some dread for her own future.

"Does that answer your question, child?" Asked the Bone Lord to Maebh in a kindly, grandfatherly tone once again.

"I will not pretend to understand, because I fear I cannot yet at the moment," Maebh replied honestly. "But yes, that clarified many of my doubts, thank you… grandpa."

"You're welcome, my child. Think nothing of it," replied the Bone Lord. "Has it helped you ponder your options as well on what to do?"

"Do we know what was done to the residents of the land after Antemeia took over?" Maebh asked towards old Myrddin with some more firmness in her voice.

"The majority are demoted to serfs and put to work rebuilding the damage from the war," Myrddin reported as he flipped some pages from the report in his hand. "A select few had been chosen as assistants to overseers. These are the ones who switched sides during the battle and survived. The militia's losses are about one in every two people, and the dead has since been raised and added to the Antemeian horde."

On hearing the report, Maebh returned to the family and conferred with them. After a short minute she walked back out, with a determined look on her face, and looked straight at the Bone Lord.

"Grandpa Aarin, we choose to fight," she said firmly. "Not for the sake of vengeance, but to help out former countrymen who were now downtrodden as serfs. For this cause, we request your permission and support."

The Bone Lord seemed to smile wider, somehow, as he looked at the gathered family with satisfaction, and with a nod said a single word that sealed the fates of many.

"Granted."