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“To love,” Alessio answered without thinking “it’s the only thing any god would have to gain by giving humans free-will…”

So you know that to be true. But, how do you live? What is your personal purpose in surviving? And the way you survive, are you loving others in doing so?

But Alessio was moving on. He didn’t like questions being posed to him. Nithel’s eyes were serious, and he kept them on the youth. But Alessio looked away, hand moving to his wrist.

Nithel glanced down and saw a white strip of pain… a scar.

His eyes filled with sadness. And that fire in him grows. One must punish those who harmed you. How many others have they cut?

But he dodged, asking his own question instead. “What purpose keeps you alive?”

He was done. Afraid. Nithel wouldn’t press too hard. This was already much for him, it would seem. But my purpose? To live as if I am already dead, and all the lives around me are precious and worth more than the stars.

Then another voice spoke into the conversation. “I live to protect those who have yet to smile.”

Nithel glanced toward Isaac. More thoughts washing over him as he saw the man’s face. If only Gabrel had opened… even to his wife.

Then another voice. Nithel swung around a bit to see the swine’s son. “Please, let us not ignore the dragon in the room.”

Was there supposed to be something funny about that? Perhaps. He still didn’t understand much humour.

The man’s eyes turned into a dark wildness, gritting his teeth. “This is no time to be telling stories. If indeed my uncle keeps dragons, and one escaped his cage, we must do something. Not stand around in idle prattling.”

Idle?

Alessio then spoke, looking toward Isaac with a prodding and surprised tone. “You live to protect him?”

“I don’t like it any better than you.” Isaac said “I killed a couple guys like him before.”

Oh. Nithel straightened a bit.

“But at times they smile and some people get along with them…somehow.”

Oh…. Nithel said nothing. Willing to be used, and to set his hands to, whatever Isaac told him to do. Because he was their leader, and to be respected just because of that, not out of fear.

Isaac then began to walk toward a door Nithel hadn’t seen before. Where did it come from?

Their leader opened the door and entered, some new light entering the glowing room. “Grab only what can be eaten raw.” Isaac called from inside.

Alessio was already moving that way, and Nithel followed. The youth darted into the room, and Nithel followed, poking his head in first, then slipping in completely. Jars. Many, many jars covered the floor. Fire was lit in smaller jars along the wall. According to Isaac, the pots on the ground were full of food.

He glanced toward the man, seeing a way he could possibly serve. He stepped toward the Isaac, not too close, as Alessio rummaged through pots. Then Nithel straightened, meeting Isaac’s eyes, but keeping his form submissive. “If there is a way I can hold things, I can carry them for us.” Then, after the slightest hesitation, “I am strong.” It would make my presence worth something.

And not strong as you, I don’t think. I mean to be no threat. 

Alessio then sneezed, and Nithel glanced toward him. He was lifting a lid off a jar, and Nithel looked back to Isaac, waiting for an order or release.

A few seconds later Alessio cried out. “Look!”

Nithel’s gaze again jumped to the youth.

“What kind of thing is this? Does it exist in your world?”

Nithel smiled softly toward Alessio.

He flushed, trying not to cause a scene, a delighted twinkle in his eyes.

That touched Nithel even more deeply.

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