UL1 - Book 10 - Chapter 28

Max couldn’t help but laugh as the others all rushed him, giving him hugs and slapping his shoulder.

“Well done, Max!” Rakonath exclaimed. “For a moment, I wondered what that crow was trying to do.”

“Bah, we both know that god knew our boy was too strong,” Batrire said. “The way his eyes moved when Max started to fly almost made me snort my ale out my nose.”

As the congratulations and words died down, Max turned to face Miranna, who was looking at him from outside the group of gods. She was chewing her lip slightly and appeared to be frowning.

“What’s wrong?” Max asked as he bent down on a knee and held her gaze.

“You didn’t kill him? Why not?” Miranna asked.

With six words, the entire room went silent and everyone moved to the side so the father and daughter had an unblocked view of each other.

“Do you think I should have ended his life?” Max asked.

“You get stronger when you do,” Miranna said. “How many times have you told me that only when you kill or defeat someone do you have a chance of getting their powers? Wouldn’t it have been better to do so? Won’t other gods think you are weak because you didn’t?”

Max glanced at Tanila who was trying to hide a grin, her gold eyes darting between him and their daughter.

“We talked about this a little bit already,” he replied, rising and moving to kneel again, just a foot away from Miranna. “Mercy is sometimes harder than killing. Getting stronger isn’t always the most important thing. Sometimes–”

“But what if his powers had been what you needed to protect me?”

A pain far worse than any he had felt in so long, even worse than dying to Yukoreek, pierced his heart.

I… think I shall remain silent. What I sense inside you is impossible for me to even comprehend. Good luck my friend.

Without realizing it, Max was rubbing his chest, his fingers massaging the gold dragon scale armor he wore.

“That… is a hard question,” he finally replied. “And my answer isn’t a simple or short one. Are you willing to listen to what I say for a moment before asking me any more?”

Miranna nodded.

Rising, he held out his hand and took hers when she accepted his, and led her to a chair.

“You all can sit and listen,” Max said. “You know who I am and what I’m going to say.”

A few cleared their throats, but none remained standing. Max sat his daughter down in a chair at the head of the table.  He motioned to the one on her right and waited for Tanila to sit in it. After that, he moved to the one on her left.  When everyone else was seated, Max let out a sigh.

“Tell me, child of my heart, if you could get stronger by killing Rakonath, would you?” he asked.

The sound of a claw scratching wood came and Max smiled as his sonar told him that Sog had just put a mark in the table again.

“No! He’s my friend. But that–”

Max held up his hand, stopping his daughter. “Remember, let me finish, and then you can ask questions. I’ll answer them all, but it’s easier if you let me take this path.”

When Miranna shut her mouth and nodded, he continued.

“I could kill Rakonath and possibly get stronger. I could kill Fowl and get his powers. You know of his thorn aura and more. Doing so would make me a lot stronger. Killing Batrire might give me the magic to heal myself and others. A powerful thing in any fight. Or Cordellia and her abilities would again be a blessing to me. Or what about…” Max paused, holding out a hand, frowning when Tanila put hers in his. “If I killed the love of my life?”

“Dad!” Miranna shouted. “That’s not funny.”

“It’s not, little one,” Tanila whispered. “But the truth is, he’s right. Your dad could kill all of us, perhaps even you, just to get stronger. But what if the only way he could protect you was to kill me? Should he do it then?”

A tear started to form, and then a small dam burst, giant drops running down tanned skin and hitting the floor as Miranna shook her head.

Max leaned over, held out his hand, and turned his chair slightly. “Come here.”

In a second, Miranna was in his arms, face against his shoulder as his armor vanished and normal clothes replaced Max’s hard outer, protective shell. His hand stroked her golden hair and he kissed her head a few times.

“Just because I can kill someone doesn’t mean I should. Just because you could kill someone, and it might make you stronger, doesn’t mean you should either.  What if your friend, Abby, held a power that would make you faster or tougher? Would you end her life?”

Through the sobs, Miranna shook her head. “No… she’s… my friend.”

“She is,” Max whispered. “And Dai-Tengu isn’t my enemy. He might even be an ally sometime down the road because I didn’t kill him. Better yet, everyone who watched that fight saw that I am a man who keeps my word. And that, my child, is one of the strongest powers someone can have.”

“But… I…” Miranna wiped her face on his shirt. Sitting back, she stared at him with the same gold eyes as her mother. “I think I understand, but what if… what if you should have?”

“Classic villain idea,” Fowl muttered.

“Classic what?” Miranna asked, looking at her dwarven uncle.

Fowl’s eyes widened, and he held up a hand. “Sorry, I wasn’t meaning to say that out loud.”

“But what does that mean?” the youngest one in the room asked again.

Max smiled as his friend glanced at him. “The floors is all yours, oh mighty warrior.”

“Bah, hairy dwarf balls.”

“Hairy?” Jazzjak said. “I thought it was supposed to be hair dwarf balls.”

Everyone’s head turned to see the vorpal bunny, his head cocked sideways, and an ear flopped over.

“Uh.. no… that doesn’t make sense,” Fowl replied. “It’s gota to be hairy… otherwise–” He paused when an elbow struck his side. Max smiled as Batrire glared at Fowl, a bar of soap in her hand.  The dwarf shook his head. “Forget it, later when kids aren’t present. I don’t want to taste what Aunty Batrire has.”

“Tell her what a villain is,” Tanila sighed. “Before we get off track more.”

Clearing his throat, Fowl nodded. “You have heard the stories about… your mother and her sister and father. Your grandfather and aunt would be what we called villains. People who kill for their own gains. Neither of them hesitated to kill those who were weaker or stronger, because doing so meant they would have the power they desired. Mercy wasn’t something they gave. Your mother… she uh… gave mercy once to her sister. When they were young.  Had she killed her and taken that power for herself, bad things might not have happened to others. But…”

Fowl glanced at Max and Tanila.

“You’re fine, say it,” Tanila said.

“Uh… so… you know your mom’s ability… had she taken her sister's power, your mom might not be the woman she is today.”

Miranna sniffed and wiped the last tear, looking at her mother. “Because her power would have corrupted you?”

Tanila winced and nodded for a few seconds. “Perhaps… perhaps not. It was that mercy which made me who I am. It made me not want to be like the others. It was what eventually led me to finding Batrire and Fowl and then to your dad. Had I taken her power, not given mercy, I wouldn’t be the woman I am today.”

“But…” Miranna started and stopped. She closed her eyes, and Max could see the motion behind her eyelids. “I think I kind of understand but it’s hard. Sometimes, I feel… hungry? Or maybe…”

“Like you want to grow stronger and you’re willing to do anything to get it?” Sog interjected.

“Exactly! You know what I mean, Soggy?” Miranna asked, smiling as her eyes flew open.

A snort came from Fowl, who ignored the glare the demon shot him.

“I do, little one,” Sog replied slowly. “My entire life was built upon hurting others, taking what I could, not giving mercy and destruction. Every breath was a chance to kill and grow. Your father taught me there were other ways. He showed me kindness, mercy, and friendship. That Dai-Tengu bird, he is going to be different because your father didn’t do what many would have.”

“Which was to try to kill him,” Miranna said.

“Exactly,” the demon replied. “What’s even harder to realize is that every being who watched that fight knows the same thing. Some might think Max was weak. Others will realize he isn’t. In the end, Max couldn’t win regardless of what choice he made. Had he killed Dai-Tengu in a single hit, there would be gods who thought him lucky or heartless. If Max had defeated him to the point of death and then given mercy, they would think he enjoys inflicting pain and lording over others, how strong he is. The truth is, Max is still a mystery to many. All they know is that he possesses strength, honor, and abilities they have yet to discover. That may hold back a tide for a while. And when those who feel or believe they can take what is his come, he’ll decide what to do then.”

Max couldn’t help but smile as Rakonath patted his demonic friend on the shoulder and grinned.

“So… when will I know what to do?” Miranna finally asked.

With his thumb, Max gently brushed her cheek once, drying off a small wetspot. “That my child is the hardest lesson of all. We call it growing up. It’s okay to defend oneself. That doesn’t mean you have to kill someone to do so. Soon you’ll be in the dungeons, finding out for yourself what those creatures can do and what true bloodlust looks like. For now, enjoy being a child. Find joy in knowing that everyone at this table loves you and will protect you. Unfortunately, one day will come and you will transform from a child to an adult. That day will be hard because you’ll know how difficult every decision you make is. No matter what, though, your mother, all these crazy aunts and uncles, and I will be there also.”

A few sniffs came and the group turned to see Jazzjak, wiping his cheek fur, now damp from tears that were running down it.  His pink nose kept scrunching with each sniff.

“You okay, Jazzy?” Miranna asked.

“I… I am,” the helper got out. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen this.”

“Seen what?” Miranna asked.

“Love… real, absolute, true love.”

Max squeezed his daughter's hand as she looked at him, seeing the question in her eyes.

She rose and moved to where their helper was, standing by himself at the end of the table, and wrapped her arms around him.

“I love you, Jazzy! We all do.”

Slight sobs came from the rabbit as both his ears flopped backward, a half-elf god child brushing the top of his fur and holding him.

Max felt his wife moving toward him, her presence always a familiar presence.  She slid onto his lap and leaned close. 

“She’s growing up way too fast,” Tanila whispered.

“She is,” Max replied. “But thankfully, she’s just like her mother.”

A chuckle came as they all sat there, watching a child love on a being who it appeared hadn’t experienced love in 80,000 years.