25: Children of War
“Rosencrantz and I have – had – a long history,” he explained, “Had he not been here, things would have been worse. I, my staff, and many of my students would have already been put to death. He and I may not have been friends but we had an understanding. Constant clashing of the wits to see who could oust who first, I guess you could say, and I know that it’s all very childish before you accuse me of that too!”
“It wasn’t just your game, though, was it? Everyone was involved, right down to your own students!”
“That was never my intention. Politics prevented me from acting sooner.”
“Who cares about politics and rules?” Phantasia found herself throwing her arms around in flailing gestures. “Ignore them! Break them! I Know I won’t hesitate to if it means protecting my friends!”
Mr Payne nudged his glasses and his eyes narrowed. He was in Headmaster mode again. “That’s what Rosencrantz used to say, and look what became of him. He flouted moral rules in order to achieve the greater good. How is that any different to what you’re saying?”
His stern glare weighed down on her and she was reminded of King Nereus who, when confronted about a decision, could use logic and reasoning to turn that person’s argument against them. Unlike the Water King, however, Rembrandt Payne had a certain human sparkle in the depths of his eyes.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” he said, relaxing, “Maybe you can see now just how complicated the human world is? And none of us humans understand it either. We just do what we can to make the world a better place – and everyone disagrees on what that ‘better place’ should be. Part of being an adult is…”
“But I’m not an adult, or even a human. I’m a faerie!”
“Indeed. And that gives you a unique perspective on our primitive behaviour!” Mr Payne placed a hand on her shoulder and she could feel warmth replacing his cold despair. “I’m from a generation brought up for war, and your generation are the orphans of it. We were forced to grow up young and put our lives on the line for the greater good. Alongside our friends we fought monsters from the Underworld, and we saw our own friends turn into monsters we were forced to fight. As adults the last thing any of us want is to see our children – and their children – trapped in that same cycle of destruction.
“As I said to you the other day, we’re only human. We do what we believe is for the best, even if, like the Patriarchs, our beliefs come from a supposed ‘higher source’.”
Beliefs from a higher source? Phantasia understood more than humans that the highest source wasn’t a creator-being or powerful force (those were frequently just demons masquerading to manipulate humans!) but the glowing centre of the planet, the heart of the world from all life began and all life would eventually return. What did the world itself believe was ‘for the best’? Were they all just pieces in a heavenly game, as the collective consciousness sought to bring about its desired conclusion? Was Phantasia, a unique being, a key part of that scheme? Those thoughts played on her mind as everyone bundled into the last transport, huddled together in the secure knowledge that Godhand would no longer be troubling them for a while. One by one they were dropped off at their homes: Joel at a run-down house on the outskirts; Kaori at a cottage in the fields near the school; Lyra, Katrina and Dante at the orphanage. Andromeda, Phoenie, Doyle and Theseus all lived in average homes around the town, while Elone was lucky enough to have a family who could afford to live in one of the finer, fully-renovated buildings in the northern suburbs. John was the last to depart, dropped off by his father outside the store they ran in town, and still Phantasia couldn’t comprehend the enormity of existence, nor why humans were convinced that they could.
As she slipped out the van and wandered up the path towards the church, she decided there was no point worrying about an answer to such massive questions. After all, the world only told you what the world wanted you to know.
***
