This story is part of the Wanderer series.
Karin held her gaze, remaining emotionless to prove her resolve. Meanwhile, the desert princess watched the exchange unfold with enraptured eyes. It was her first time seeing the older girl reveal her feelings so willingly and earnestly.
Tilting his chin up, a light rekindled in the elder’s eyes. “Then, you have ventured into the abyss… seeking the wisdom of the lower lands to guide you?”
Blinking in surprise, Karin straightened a little, showing emotion again.
“I… have not thought of it that way,” she admitted. “When I first set out, my mission was to assure the capital is stable and still governing to the heads of all the factions.”
Her eyes dipped down briefly as she thought and spoke, only to draw back up stronger than before.
“However, I am open to hear what you may have to offer.”
The elder straightened his back a little, his voice becoming gruff for a brief instant as he strained. “Then allow this old man to offer his wisdom.”
Regaining her composure, Karin paid the elder with a serious air. “Go ahead.”
The elder slumped back down into a slouch, clearly unable to hold his posture high. Yet, his eyes were as sharp and keen as ever, filled with vigor.
“You spoke about justice, Princess…” he began.
The elder paused. When Karin did not respond, waiting patiently, he continued.
“Our nation honors justice so greatly. It is part of its creed. Its lifeblood.”
As the old man’s voice took on a storyteller’s tone, Chiara leaned out from behind the pot, becoming further engaged.
“Yet, in its fervent worship, the nation has forgotten something.”
The elder paused again.
“It has forgotten forgiveness.”
Karin’s eyes widened, uttering a very subtle closed-mouth murmur.
“Justice without forgiveness only leads to one road.”
Hunching his head lower, his eyes narrowed as his voice became grave.
“An equal price for an evil act. However, if the price is perceived by the other as evil, or it is perceived as unequal… it, in turn, spurns a new act that must now have a new price.”
Drawing his head back up, softness returned to the elder’s eyes.
“And now you have a chain.”
Blinking a few times, Karin lowered her gaze.
“It takes only one act to begin the chain,” the elder continued. “If the world only valued justice, the chain will stretch eternally, to the ends of the world from the beginning.”
Eyes wavering, Karin furrowed her brows as she took in the elder’s words. His lecture was all too familiar.
“Forgiveness is needed to sever that chain. To not respond with an equal price, in the hopes that, seeing you stayed your hand, the other is satisfied, and you both depart on your separate paths.”
The elder paused again. This time, he does not resume. As his last words hung in the air, Karin stared into the pit, watching its sputtering embers.
“But…” she eventually spoke. “What if it’s not enough? What if the other is not satisfied?”
Finally, she looked up and met the elder’s eyes again.
“You relinquish control. It leaves you in a weaker position.”
The elder gazed at her understandingly. “Not every response must be forgiveness. There is a time and place. Learning when is the difficult part.”
Brows still furrowed, she gazed off to the side again, subtly shaking her head. “It’s too naive… and optimistic. Too unreliable… on a scale as large as nations and continents. Conflicts are rarely resolved that way.”
With a slow blink and a breath out, the elder turned his head to gaze blankly forward again.
“Yes, life is rarely so simple,” he breathed. “However, it only takes a few who are naive enough to sever the chain…”
Pulling back her posture, Karin looked to the side, towards the elder.
“… and steer the world towards a better course…”
Outside, in the cold dull snow, Rin and Nozomi worked at a chopping block. Nozomi, insisting she give herself a go at the block after watching Rin do it once, struggled to split the log, even after three or four whacks. Rin stood to her right, on the safe side, impatiently guiding her as Alisan and the two village women stood further behind, watching while holding pieces of chopped lumber in their arms. Alisan looked on with a smile of embarrassment as Nozomi struggled, while one of the villagers watched with worry. The other watched with curiosity at the scene unfolding. Eventually, Nozomi, face furrowing with intent, raised the axe up to her side and released her energy, resolving to make her next hit split the log, only to stumble to the side before she could swing as Rin suddenly yelled and harassed her to stop.
“… as joy is just as infectious as hate,” the elder finished with a warm smile towards the princess.
Karin gazed on, looking conflicted.
“It is difficult to take in at once, I understand,” the elder comforted. “I can only pray, as you continue down your journey, this wisdom serves you well, and guides you to a better place.”
Closing her eyes, she dipped her chin, allowing her face to soak in the warmth of the fire.
“Thank you, elder,” she said calmly after a breath out. “You have given me much to think about.”