The Non-Human Society

Chapter 52 - Fifty One – Renn – The Last Painting

Chapter 52: Chapter Fifty One – Renn – The Last Painting

The fire was... oddly dark, in the murky night.

Most of the fire had died down, it seemed, but every so often I could see the dark orange flames inside the black smoke.

Luckily, thanks to the size of the building and the fact it had been made mostly of stone... the fire hadn't spread very far. Only a single other building had caught fire, a storeroom and barn that the Carvill knights used to house their horses and other items.

Glancing away from the cloud of smoke, I dared a glance to the man sitting nearby.

Vim sat on the wall's ledge, with slumped shoulders. Watching the fire like a hawk... had he even blinked in the last hour?

Looking away from him, I glanced up and down the... what had Vim called this part? The battlement?

He sat in-between two of the extruding parts of the walls, which somewhat hid him from view in the dark of the night.

I stood behind him, but not because I was afraid to sit on the ledge of this wall. It wasn't that high, honestly, only a few stories tall... but...

If I sat in one of the crevices, as Vim was doing, I'd not be able to keep an eye on him.

No one else was on this section of the wall. Most of the guards of the city, and in fact most of Ruvindale, was on the other side of the town. Either aiding in fighting the fire, or watching it.

A part of me was... pained, to know that there was a very good chance that the fire had killed someone. It had spread so... so fast... Hopefully they also got the horses out of that barn, too.

And hopefully that young boy also found peace.

That young knight had guided me to a small garden, covered in glass. In fact it had been very beautiful. The kind that made me forget the severity of the moment... and because of that I had been ensorcelled by it. I had gotten lost in those flowers, which were blooming even during this cold winter.

What had been a simple trick to allow Vim to be alone in the storeroom... turned into me losing track of time.

Then the world had exploded. Glass shattered. The floor had rocked.

And in that moment, not only had I been forced to realize how serious the moment had been...

Closing my eyes, I groaned softly at the memory.

Of the young boy, who had been all smiles.

Of his shocked expression, upon seeing my ears.

Opening my eyes, I looked at Vim. He still sat there, staring at the fire... focused on it and nothing else.

Stepping towards him, I tried to look over his shoulder. To see if his right hand still had that young knight's blood on it.

That young knight's terrified expression as he died would haunt me for some time.

It hadn't just been shock. It hadn't just been terror...

It had been betrayal.

And somehow that hurt the most.

"Was... was this the right choice, Vim?" I asked the man with the tear-stained face.

Studying the Societies protector, I wondered how such a man cried so openly. So purely.

Yet... what were those tears for? How many of those tear stains were for the humans he killed? How much of his grief, so obviously visible on his expression, was for the knights... and how much of it was for us? For Lughes and Amber? Crane and Shelldon?

Me and him?

"No," he then said.

A shiver ran down my body, reaching my tail.

"But... my choices are never the right ones," he added.

His voice didn't match his heartbroken appearance.

It sounded strong. Firm. Unyielding.

Just like it always did.

Which was the real man?

The one who could set aflame paintings of his own kind, and the humans who took them from us...

Or the one who silently sobbed at the horrible scene he had created with his own hands?

"I... I share this burden with you, Vim," I said lightly. In hopes that he'd not blame himself completely.

He had only personally killed two men upon our escape of the burning building.

The young boy who had guided us and an armored knight who had seen him do so.

Vim turned suddenly, looking at me.

I stood up straighter, shocked a little he had actually looked away from the fire. He hadn't done so in hours.

"Blame. You knew them for a mere few moons. Moons. Moments. A sliver of our lifetimes. Don't get full of yourself, woman," he said to me.

My jaw clenched, and I kept myself from growing too upset over his words. I kept myself from crying, and growling at them at the same time.

He didn't mean those words. And I could tell... and not just because of his worried eyes.

He was trying to tell me none of this was my fault.

"Don't you dare, Vim. Don't you dare try to coddle me like a child. Don't you dare not include me in the blame of..." I glanced at the fire in the distance. I couldn't see flames anymore. "Of this atrocity," I finished.

Returning to Vim's eyes, I hesitated.

How were they so clear? So...

It felt as if I was staring into someone who knew everything about me. Someone that knew all of my faults, and failures...

And yet wasn't judging me for them at all.

"Don't pity me," I whispered, a little worried as I stepped back a step.

Vim's eyes narrowed and he reached up and grabbed the higher part of the wall. With a single motion, he stood.

Stepping down from the wall's battlements, he took in a small breath as he stepped up to me.

"I knew crane when she was but a child," Vim said.

I gulped as he lowered his head, his voice going a little deeper. "I helped Lughes bury his wife and daughter," he continued.

"I..." he went to say more, but stopped himself.

Vim suddenly looked hurt, and he looked away from me. To the floor of the wall. Where the wood and stone stuck together in a misshapen mess.

"Don't stop. Keep going," I said firmly.

"No. Let's go... before..." he sighed and shook his head. "That's enough mistakes for one day," he said.

Vim turned, stepping towards the section of wall we had come from. Where the stairwell was.

Opening my mouth to say something... I realized I didn't know what to say.

He was blaming himself. For everything.

He had even tried to make me angry, so that I would not blame myself.

Then upon realizing it hadn't... wouldn't work... He decided to stop trying.

Reaching out, to stop him... I found myself unable.

What could I say?

What could I do?

Vim ignored me as he slowly walked away. He didn't even glance at the fire as he went for the stairs.

"Ooff..." I groaned, swallowing a sob as I went to follow him.

Nothing I said or did would change this man's opinion. His beliefs.

He blamed himself. Completely. Always would.

Which... really wasn't fair.

I was here too, wasn't I?

I had cried too. I still would.

I had been involved as well. I had been the one to carry Amber's corpse. I had been the one to deliver those letters and...

Following Vim down the stairwell, I was a little surprised to find a guard at the bottom of the stairs. He was polishing a metal boot.

He stared at us, with wide eyes full of concern... but said nothing as we left the wall's rampart, and went back into the city.

Glancing behind us, at the man who slowly went back to polishing his boot... I was a little glad that he hadn't said nor did anything to try and stop us. To question us.

Right now Vim would have simply killed him.

For a few good minutes, I followed behind Vim in silence. Occasionally I glanced up to the sky, to the dark clouds hiding the stars above us.

The smoke was covering the whole city... and the smell was...

Wait... we were heading back into the city. Deeper into it. Back towards the fire.

"Vim...?" I asked.

He didn't respond, so I hurriedly stepped up next to him. He frowned as he glanced at me, with a look that told me he really wasn't in the mood to deal with me.

"Where are we going? Aren't we leaving?" I asked him.

Vim's eyes grew soft, and he looked away... and after a moment slowly came to a stop.

"Leave..." he whispered to himself.

"Shouldn't we? The paintings are gone now... and we don't know where anyone else is right?" I asked.

"Right..." he said softly.

A little worried, I wondered if he had...

No...

"What were you planning on doing, Vim?" I asked him, a little bothered by that look on his face.

Vim looked at me, and I noticed the way his eyes slid up and down my body. If he had been anyone else, I would have shied away at that look.

"Go to the inn. Get your bag. Change your clothes," he said.

"What of you?" I asked, not letting him step away. I even started to reach out, to grab his arm.

"Primdoll."

My arm went still, a mere inch from his.

He nodded. "One last thing."

My hand clenched, and the silken glove protested. I felt it stretch... becoming looser than it already were.

"I'll come with you," I said, nodding to him.

"You've done well. You've been a great help, Renn. But please... let me pity you. Let me protect you. Let me do what I have to," he asked me.

My face twitched as I grabbed his arm. Right below the elbow. "No! That... that might very well be my fault, Vim...!" I said sharply.

Vim's face told me he didn't believe me, but I persisted. "Really! I... I was the one who agreed. To that families servant. I was the one who took that order!" I said. Nearly shouted.

"I know," he said gently.

Going still, my breath caught as he smiled softly at me. "I know. I read your note before Lomi and I left. I remember seeing it on the counter," he said.

My mouth went dry, and I nearly choked as I shook my head at him.

He had known all along?

"Thus, why I've told you. Hold your head high, Renn. You weren't at fault. If it had been anyone else at the counter that day, this still would have happened. Amber, Lughes, Crane... they all would have agreed to it. They all would have accepted the contract. Even I would have, had I been there," he said.

"But..." I didn't know what to say.

Vim reached out, but did so with his other hand. He patted my head, which was a little... painful. The pins keeping the hat on my head prodded me as he touched me.

"Go get changed. Get your stuff. Meet me at the eastern gate. The one near the docks," he said.

For a small moment I considered arguing. But...

That tone in his voice. That look on his face...

Vim stopped messing with my head, and then reached into his shirt. He shuffled something around, and I watched as he pulled something out.

The sound of crinkled paper drew my full attention... as he extended it to me.

Looking up from the rolled up painting, I stared up at his blurry face.

"No..." I whispered.

He smiled and nodded.

Taking the painting... I forgot about the hand still connected to Vim's arm, and allowed the painting to unfurl on its own.

With a shaky hand, I watched a familiar scene come into view.

"Vim..." I sobbed, staring at the scene Lughes had painted before I had left. The one with Lomi in that odd dress...

The one with all of us. Sitting before a fireplace.

Yet... there was now a new addition. A small part of the painting had newer paint upon it. Dried, finished... but the layer was a little bit more raised than the others.

Standing near where I was seated, was now Amber. She wasn't smiling, and instead had her familiar frown on her face... yet somehow, that made me smile all the more.

I cried as I remembered my other hand and released Vim as to unfold the painting even more. To take the whole thing in.

It was rough at the edges, telling me that Vim had probably cut it free from a frame... but I didn't care.

Right now this was the most precious thing in the world.

"Go on. Eastern gate," he repeated, not even giving me time to tell him how much this meant to me.

Where had he gotten it? The Sleepy Artist? The storeroom...? And why, out of all the paintings he could have taken...

Why this one?

Sniffing, I nodded. "Okay. Eastern gate," I accepted.

He nodded and gave me a small smile. "Thank you. I'll not be long," he said.

Vim stepped aside, to round me. He walked away gently, as if he had no idea just how deeply he had just placed himself into my heart.

Watching him go, I felt conflicted.

This was normal for him, wasn't it?

Enduring this. Bearing the whole thing. Alone.

It made me sick.

As Vim left, heading back towards the noble's district... I made a small vow.

To the painting in my hands.

To the many paintings that were now lost.

To those in the paintings.

To Amber.

To Vim.

Folding up the painting carefully, I sniffed and glanced around. To make sure no one was looking at me.

There wasn't. Only Vim was on the road with me. And he was drawing farther away.

One day he'd let me bear this burden together with him.

One day I'd share in the blame and sorrow.

"One day."