Epilogue

In life, it isn’t a matter of whether someone is bad, but, rather, a matter of whose side they are on.

The man held his glare the best he could, tried to hold onto his belief system and his loyalty to what he’d dedicated himself to. Like most things, however, the man was broken under the weight of the right method of persuasion.

Katalene had blinded him with sands already, a fact, not a euphemism. She had stuffed the grains down his socket beyond any sense of repair. Leaving him sat in a seated position, restrained with rope, she made swipes every now and again, cutting off his ear in one instance, stabbing him in the leg the next. She walked around him in a circle, with him blinded, he was left constantly trying to place her whereabouts.

“They sent me to try and gather up all bodies, said they deserved a proper burial. But, I am an odd-job man, before everything went down, the only job I had was to bring cargo from The Thief’s Network to The Sanctuary. I don’t know anything about where The Hallows’ located, I never cared! I swear to you I am telling the truth.” The man cried out, or, at least, he would’ve cried out, had his eye-sockets not been clogged with sand, saying he whimpered was more accurate of a phrase. The man was distraught by Katalene’s account.

Katalene said nothing to the pleading man. She didn’t have very many words she felt much confidence in. Part of her wanted to threaten him, tell him that it’d only get worse unless he started amounting to more than simply an “odd-job” man. The other part of her only wanted to hurt someone, and he deserved it, after all. The man that supplied and enabled the man that killed was no better than the man that killed.

Katalene readied the blade of her gauntlet, staring through the eye-holes of her wooden mask, a family heirloom she had taken from her parents’ household before bidding final farewell to Wilson.

Taking off one of his limbs might also very well take away any loyalty he had toward The Hallow, but it might also force him to bleed out before he breaks.

Katalene felt Uncle Morgis’ hand on her shoulder, “I understand that you’re frustrated about all of this. I am frustrated too, but I don’t think this man has any information that can help us. Something horrible has happened, and I know that, but you can’t let it turn you into a monster.”

Katalene looked down at the pathetic man that rested on his knees in the sands. The man only looked alive in the technical sense, his eyes were stuck shut, and he was slouched in such a way that made it look like he’d drop dead at any moment. If he felt the sword approaching him, he’d plead, but, other-wise, he might as well already have been finished. But, she’d keep him alive. He needed to be alive, after all. To send home the message that she no longer had anything to be taken from her, and that, now, the real reckoning could begin.

The person before him that Katalene talked with said that whatever she did to him, Dr. Rindan would return the favor a thousand times worse. Katalene felt inclined to change that opinion about what she was capable of.

“You will never place your hand on me ever again, you will never touch me, and, if you do, I will feed you to Sol.” Katalene turned over to Uncle Morgis who had a grimaced, exhausted look on his face.

“Your dragon eats rocks, I doubt its stomach could even handle digesting a human.” Her prisoner, Uncle Morgis said as an act of rebellion.

“Then, I’ll eat you, and if I puke that out, I’ll eat that too.”

Uncle Morgis’ face stayed cold and plain, he turned his back away from her and walked closer to Sol.

Katalene stared at him as he left, then, turned her attention back to the blinded man. She rested the blade of her sword on his shoulder, making certain that the steel touched his neck, “You’re going to help me find them.”