Praetorian Rising, стр. 48
"Several years after the external fighting began, the Chimera virus broke out in multiple villages across Aspera once more, and we needed another solution. A stronger solution."
The wind picked up across Romeo, pushing a dense fog in from the eastern shore. It blanketed the snow-dusted treetops before them like a bath of milk, allowing only the tallest of trees to remain in sight. Those still viewable stood fiercely defiant, solitary soldiers in a silent sea running up the vast hillside and distant mountains bordering the Dwaa Kingdom.
Vesyon coughed gently to clear the smoke from his lungs before taking another swift puff. "It was then that LeMarc installed the Praetorian Guard," Vesyon continued. "Offering protection to the people while he distributed an antidote and continued his crusade. To many, this would be a new beginning. Praetorians were the protectors of the people," he shrugged as though trying to rid himself of an annoying overcoat. His brow hung low over his deep-set grey eyes, and he appeared almost angry.
"At least, that's what we were told," he bit out, shoving new leaves into his pipe despite the smoking embers smoldering a deep red in the depths of the pipe end.
"LeMarc created the Praetorians and also distributed the antidote for the virus?" Camille asked in shock.
"He had a hand in it," Vesyon replied in an offhanded way. His eyes scanned the horizon line as though searching for a better explanation, but his mouth remained firmly closed.
"That didn't seem strange?"
"A lot of things back then were strange," Vesyon said, a haunting smile gracing his lips for a mere second before sliding away. "But no one was willing to question his motives. He took control of the southern lands, the Kingdom of Dwaa conquered. Their lands and goods owned by the High King and his righteously holy rule."
"The mountain lands belong to the High King?"
Vesyon grunted, pulling deeply on his pipe and expelling the smoke in a quick exhalation. "More or less, when his rule was strong."
"And his rule isn't as strong now?" She picked up the bag of pipe tobacco and lifted it to her nose. The earthy spice slipped up her nose and filled her lungs. It struck a chord in her memory, but she couldn't place the time or the location. He was there though, in her history, in the back of her mind where she'd lost everything and everyone.
While living in Sierra Village, she hadn't minded the absence of self. The lost memories and blank history had become a part of her. Now, however, the lack of history felt like a disease, like there were holes in her body that she was desperate to fill.
"Those against LeMarc are pushing back."
"Why now?" Camille asked, tucking the edges of the tobacco bag closed again.
"The Kingdom isn't as strong as it once was—before LeMarc went into hiding," Vesyon said as he watched Camille drop the tobacco back on the wooden plank between them.
"Just like the glory of this kingdom, the beauty of being a Praetorian didn't last. Before long it was rubbed away. The cold hard truth remained: we weren't royal subjects or high breed socialites. We were nothing but glorified slaves to the crown, his trained assassins pressed to attend to his every command."
"You were forced to kill Asperians?"
"Asperians, Dwaans, Dai'Cian, all of them. No one was safe, and no Praetorian was pure," Vesyon said.
Camille gulped, immediately understanding what he was implying. She'd killed innocents too, and this realization made her insides squirm uneasily.
"We were required to kill our chosen targets, no questions asked. We were told they were infected, and infected people were to be removed from society. We sincerely thought we were doing God’s work at the time," Vesyon said as his shoulders sloped downward with the heavy weight of his past.
Camille felt the urge to comfort him but wasn't sure how to achieve it. The words slipping between his lips felt like a downpour of history he'd been unwilling to share, but there was no stopping him now that the flow had begun. Every syllable appeared to crush him and yet he continued in a hurry to be done with the pain.
He laughed then, a sharp, bitter sound that pulled at his features, forming dark shadows over his eyes. "Fools is what we were."
"You didn't know any better," Camille offered, but he shook his head.
"We did know better. We were created to protect, not destroy. To be a Praetorian was to be the High King's property, but after years of killing, after countless unquestioned assassinations of people we didn't even know the names of, we began to question the morality of our duty to Aspera."
He stood then, the energy of his words strumming through his body like a sudden bolt of lightning surging from the center of his chest and outward to every extremity. Camille's eyes swiveled to follow his movement back and forth across the platform, his boots clapping across the planks with every step.
"I'm not sure telling you everything is such a great idea." Stopping in the middle of the cramped space, Vesyon stared down at Camille as though assessing her.
"Well I won't argue with you, but I have to admit it's getting bloody exhausting not knowing the details of my own life."
His mouth parted momentarily before pressing back together, his eyes narrowing into sharp grey slits followed by an almost imperceptible nod.
"I was at Sierra Village with Langhorn," he spoke up before retaking a seat next to her. Instead of looking Camille in the eyes, he glanced out over the stillness of the