“No, no I won’t!” Gutter sputtered. “I swear, I’ll leave this place and I’ll never come back and-”
One foot planted itself in front of the other, and the bandit was silenced once more as Finn closed the distance between with slow, deliberate steps. He turned and shot a questioning look over his shoulder. “Why can’t you do it?”
“I’ve killed the other two already Finn,” Gangui said curtly, “I am trying to teach you how to survive in Etzos and be a good person. No one else will. They are evil. And the way you are acting is not the way that is true Etzori liberty is. This man wants to imitate Immortals, because they can’t handle being good.”
A frown shot across Finn’s face. Gangui made simple things sound complicated yet mesmerizing, but it was true that he’d already slain the majority of the raiders. When he turned his head toward Gutter’s puffy, scratched face however, his resolve faltered. This was not a cruel bandit who dragged women off their horses and into the wilderness, this was merely a very large sack of meat, bawling and stuttering and making other feeble noises that Finn had never heard before. How could he take the life a man-sized baby? It wasn’t right.
“Immortals have m-m-mercy…” the blabbering sound came as the man gave up on any mortal’s change of heart, casting his eyes toward the heavens instead.
“This man doesn’t look like it now,” Gangui pointed at the man’s face, “But he is Faldrun. He is Lissira. He is Raskalorn. Everything that the Immortals are he follows, but not consciously. He was mentally inoculated by these Immortals to live lawlessly. The Immortals arn’t the real creators of the universe, but merely servants of this beautiful creation, so they made us their slaves, because they are evil. And this man,” Gangui spit, “Is so weak he choose to follow that same line of thinking, to make people like YOU their slaves. To steal your money and your life. And they’ll never stop. I want you to choose the good path, Finn, I want you to see these people for who they truly are: Leeches on the back of the free market!”
The last words the barbarian spoke were full of the hot iron that was his determined will.
The rough cotton of his tunic wiped across his mouth before Finn gave a curt nod. He’d heard, and he’d understood.
“Immortals have mercy! immortals have mercy. . .I’m a good soul I have offered to you all I could spare, I have given you what you wanted now save a humble live!” the man didn’t even look at them anymore, his eyes had closed and he muttered the names of the immortals he’d prayed to throughout his lifetime. “Sintra. Aelig. Lissira. Faldrun.
Finn sneered at their names. The air didn’t rumble with Immortal vengeance, and no divine creature stepped from between the trees to save this useless pawn. It proved how wicked the immortals truly were and how little they cared for their mortal pets. He raised the dagger to Gutter’s throat and the silvery tip trembled in a vale ray of sunlight breaking through the overcast.
Steely fingers clamped the boy’s hand and slowly forced the blade against the man’s throat. The trembling man did not move. Finn stared at the squishy flesh was pricked with the edge of destiny’s razor. A single drop of blood seeped onto the blade and trickled onto Finn’s cold finger.
Gangui stopped, “Finn, we will do this together, I got your back,” His voice was firm and ominously slow.
The muscle in his arms bunched. One hand shot out to seize the man’s face while the other clutched the knife and yanked the blade across.
Gurgling erupted into a stream of blood, briefly spraying the boy in the chest as the life drained out of his eyes. The body thumped onto the floor almost as quickly as he died. Blood splattered on Finn’s feet as he stared into the dark red pool that was slowly surrounding him.
The mustachio finally released his grip. “It is done.”
A heavy breath escaped him as the dagger slipped from his grasp and fell uselessly to his side. He stared at the convulsing body for a moment, thinking that perhaps the man was still alive, but after a few trills the movements stopped and all was still except for his racing heart. Scrunching up his nose he looked down at his clothes in disgust and felt the warmth of the bandit’s blood seep through the cotton. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, like a fish washed ashore before he finally mustered the will to speak again. “I never killed someone before,” he muttered. “I didn’t think it’d be so messy.” Still crouched before the slain bandit his eyes turned to Gangui, hungry for approval, a word of encouragement perhaps.
