Judge was lonely, more than he could tell anyone. So he desperately searched for someone to put his trust in, someone to watch his back. And that someone had betrayed him, as everyone else did.
He wanted to close himself off, he wanted to not trust anyone again— But there were his parents, people who always trusted him. But his loneliness still was a big void inside his heart, a void that he desperately wanted to fill.
He decided to drop off that weight, he wanted to speak to her honestly. He opened his mouth, thinking on what to say to her.
"Master," He began, speaking slowly. "You are right, I seem to have closed off my trust to anyone but my parents."
"To me," He continued, "Every betrayal is a reminder that even the most solid walls can crumble under the weight of deception. My defenses are fortified by many shattered promises... and still... I remain vulnerable to the next smile that hides a knife. My weakness is my own longing for someone to trust, a weakness I can never get rid of." He smiled, pitying himself.
Seraphis looked at him seriously, she did not know what he had gone through. But as his master, she had to at least make him feel comfortable with her, solving his trust issues could come later.
"Judge," She slowly caressed his nape, "Let me tell you a story... a story about a village full of strong warriors."
In the olden times, on the northeast coast of the continent. There lived a tribe who were considered the strongest of warriors.
They were not only feared for their strength but were respected and held as a form of admiration by many aspiring fighters.
Their strength was unfathomable, and so were their techniques. Movements so beautiful that looked like a maiden's dance.
Their mastery over their ether was almost as good as the elves, and their ether volume was nearly as great as the dragons. Even their psyche was as good as the goblins.
Many referred to their tribe as the 'Invictuses', But their true name was said to be 'Valors', some texts say that they referred to themselves as 'Auctoritas'. These are all referred from an ancient language called Latin, with many speculating that it was their tongue.
As they lived near the forest of Devfronds, there were many monster attacks. But those attacks were what made them stronger, and they only grew in strength as time passed, but many of their comrades were sacrificed.
As time passed, there came a year when the monster attacks got more aggressive than ever, more frequent than the previous years. But they did not falter in front of the adversaries, like true warriors, they emerged victorious.
But the cost of that victory was just as great, too many of their comrades were sacrificed, too many to even count. The outcome was extremely heartbreaking.
They did not leave even a single body behind even though they were tired, they held funerals for everyone. During the events of the funeral, a young man who had lost both his parents and his sister to the monsters got up and suggested to the heartbroken warriors— He suggested that they build a fortress, one with walls so strong that it would hold back even the strongest of monster rampages.
The villagers, who were also in the same state as that young man, unanimously agreed to his suggestion and started to prepare to build the fortress. They neither saw the need nor considered the consequences that would come from building such a fortress.
Together, they started to build the ultimate fortress to keep away the monsters. Their resolve was strong— driven by a desire to never endanger their loved ones again. Many lives were still lost while they were building their safe house.
Many died while trying to collect materials from monsters or from monster territories, many died while trying to defend their new, unfinished home. And a few lives were lost to the construction.
But they toiled through as they always had, and finally built an undefeatable fortress. A fortress that could withstand even the hardest of battles.
Time and generations passed since the building of their fortress, and their battles changed. The proud warriors that stood tall in the face of adversaries now were battling monsters within the safety of their walls.
Hard times create strong people, and strong people create easy times. Easy times create weak people, and weak people create hard times. Slowly but surely, their strength faded, replaced with battle strategies to be used within their walls.
But as the old saying goes, "No fortress is eternal; even the strongest walls yield to time."
These walls were not an exception. On one fateful day, on another normal monster siege, the walls crumbled, and the monsters got inside.
On that day, the warriors of the Valor tribe, including the children, took their final breath. It was said that a river of blood flowed from inside the fortress, dying the ground red.
Judge was absorbed into the story really well, but he hated the ending.
"Now Judge," Seraphis called him, she was still caressing the back of his head. "Tell me."
"Hmm," He voiced his approval,
"Why do you think the whole race, full of strong warriors went extinct?"
"Why you ask?" He looked at his master, not meeting the eye. "Because they build a fortress and avoided conflict that improved their skills."
"You are half right," She smiled comfortably and moved her gaze forward, "The real reason was that they shut off themselves from the challenges life threw at them, only to be crushed under those challenges that they tried to avoid.
"But there was a good reason why they build that fortress, it was to keep their loved ones safe from those monsters that they always fight against. But where did that leave them at the end?"
She paused, letting Judge absorb what she had just told him. "But," Judge began, "They did not know of such an outcome."