"The Word of Bahamut, Sir!" Came my reply through the cutting cold. I was ankle deep in snow, wearing only my trousers, my shoes, and my faith. Clutched to my chest was The Divine Book Of The Platinum Dragon. A tome I was given at the onset of my training in the order of the Champions Transcendent.
"Correct!" Kras' voice boomed back. He was dressed in his full battle-armour, wrapped in a cloak made of a bear. Around his neck dangled a medallion that kept the cold from affecting him. I envied that medallion. Oh, very much so.
"How much farther do we have to march, Sir?" I requested through chattering teeth. I could no longer feel my chest, which worried me. When I lost feeling in my hands, I knew I was on the right path. Struggle breeds greatness. When I lost feeling in my arms, I knew I was on the right path. A paladin is forged in suffering. When I lost the feeling in my legs, I knew I was on the right path. To protect the innocent from harm, one must know harm. When I lost feeling in my chest, I became convinced I would die here in the cold.
"That depends, Initiate." Kras smiled. I think he smiled. It's getting hard to see.
"On... on what Sir?" I asked, exhausted.
"Tell me... what is most important?"
I sighed. I had said the same thing, every time he had asked. Was he testing my faith? Still? Would he wait until I passed out from exhaustion to be sure of my reverence for the Book? If he did... would I survive the night? Or would he trust my fate to Bahamut... A shiver went through me that was not from the freezing.
"Thththe Word of Bbbbbbahamt, Sir!" I shouted, as best I could.
Kras shook his head, and smiled. I think. It might have been a sneer.
"Are you sure about that?"
"Yyyyess, yessir." I nodded forcefully.
"More important than your life, these words are?"
I was confused. I cocked my head, and furrowed my brow. Of course they were... these words are divine. They have sheltered the faithful since before I was born and will long after I am dead. They are the truth, the light, and the shield of the righteous.
"Off cccccourse Sir."
"I see." he put his hand to his face. "Cold out tonight. You're a tough one, Initiate, I'll give you that. But..." He shook his head again, "Not the brightest, hmm?"
In place of words, I shivered angrily.
"Why are the words important, Initiate?"
"Thththey are the shshshshield of the righteous, and thththe banner of the jujujujust... Thththe words that thththe willing can fffffind strength and unitttttty in..."
"Right, yes, good," he waved his hand impatiently in the air. "And who exactly is going to bring those words to those who need them, if you're dead from the cold Initiate?"
I stared at him blankly. I shivered.
He reached into a pouch on his belt, and held out to me a box of matches.
I stared at them, and back to him.
Huh.
As I sat by the fire of the burning book, I warmed myself in Knigh-Exalted Kras' bear coat and realized that a life is worth more than a book.
Even if it's a really, really good book.
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