There was some small respite from the constant necessity of tending to the situation in the Great Chu. Their armies were, for a time, at a stalemate brought about by partial control of the enemy’s commanding officers. Any assault that was to come, either from the heavens or from the ground, was something they were amply prepared for. Law and the other gods made their presence more felt on the shores of the Great Chu every second, but until something decisive happened to tip the balance, they didn’t have much hope. Hopefully, that ‘something’ would come at the hands of Governor Zen.

But there was trouble back home—trouble that was somewhat resolving itself, yet still needed a direct hand. Sophia.

Argrave opened the door to their bedroom, where Sophia had been staying ever since her toys had come to life and then died. She was lying down, but upon hearing the door open, she jolted upright. Argrave entered, and Anneliese followed soon after. Waiting behind them was Elenore.

“You don’t want to come in?” Argrave asked Elenore in a whisper.

“I…” Elenore crossed her arms. “Perhaps later.”

Both of them nodded, then left her to watch at the doorway.

“Hey, Sophia,” Argrave said affectionately. “We’d like to have a talk, the three of us. Are you up for it?”

Sophia nodded, her red eyes wide and scared. They moved to sit down, one of them on each side of her.

Argrave and Anneliese had been checking in on her occasionally, but she was rather despondent most times, and their other duties kept them unable to commit to anything serious. This issue, untreated, could become an infected wound. Given the gravity of Sophia’s future, it was something that needed to be tended to.

“How are you feeling?” Argrave asked, to begin with.

“I’m fine.” Sophia lowered her head.

Argrave brought his legs up onto the bed and turned his body. “I think we all know that’s not true. We have to talk about what happened. About the lives you created, at our urging.”

“I didn’t know they would all die. I just want them back. Back to the way they were… they didn’t need to talk, to do anything.” Sophia wiped at her face.

“But the fact is they did,” Anneliese said, not unkindly. “And you still have the potential inside you to create yet more. That is the matter at hand.”

“I’m never gonna do it again,” Sophia shook her head fiercely, black hair whipping about. “I don’t want to. They’ll die. I don’t… I don’t want to be able to do this.”

Argrave got off the bed and kneeled down until he looked Sophia in the eyes. “Creating life isn’t a bad thing, Sophia. You were born—a life created. As was I. As was Anneliese. Life can be made, and life can end. These are two incontrovertible facts.”

“Incont… incontro…” Sophia furrowed her brows in confusion.

“It means it cannot be denied,” Anneliese explained, putting her hand on Sophia’s shoulder. “You, Sophia, can create life. Most living things can. The ease at which you do it does not make it wrong. It does, however, place a large responsibility on your shoulders. Lives carelessly created can… well, they can exist as Mr. Knight did. And they can stop, too.”

Silence stretched between the three of them, and Sophia wiped tears from her eyes as foul memories came back. “If it’s not a bad thing, why do I feel so bad?”

“It’s supposed to,” Argrave explained. “The fact that you feel that is natural. And if you ever don’t feel it, that’ll be cause to worry. Lives are… complex things, that neither Anneliese nor I can describe to you briefly. But each one has limitless value. Let me ask you something—when you first made Mr. Knight, why did you do it?”

Sophia kneaded her little hands together. “I… I wanted to pay you back, Argrave. I wanted you to be proud of me. I wanted to help you.”

Argrave was touched, and he kneeled there in silence for a little as he digested what she said. “That’s a noble thing on your end. But where you went wrong, Sophia—and where we did, for pushing you so hard—is trying to impose your will on the life of another being. I don’t think you did so on purpose. But one of the important things about life is its independence.”

Sophia tensed from the light chastisement, yet did not wither. She repeated, “Independence?”

“That’s right.” Argrave tapped Sophia’s hand. “Your father and your mother were the two people that created you. They are responsible for your life. Norman tried to impose upon you what he wanted you to do. He wanted you to do terrible, evil things, just as he did. He tried to strip away your independence, and make you an extension of himself.”

Sophia began to tremble.

“But you’re not like him,” Argrave continued hurriedly. “Unlike him, you never wanted any of that stuff to happen, nor did you want to do what he did. And because you were a life unto yourself, you never adapted those tendencies. You became far, far, better than he could ever hope to be.”

Sophia was a smart child, and her face immediately warped to horror as she wrapped her mind around what Argrave was saying. “But I did… I did what Norman did, to them? I made them do what I wanted?”

“It isn’t the same at all,” Argrave assured her. “But the thing that Anneliese and I worry about, is that it could become similar. That’s why we intend to impart some lessons upon you, so that you understand what it is to make a life, and the responsibility that carries.”

They were wandering into murky territory. By Argrave’s view, all morality was subjective. The things that dictate it were simply the instincts and thoughts within a person’s head. Argrave believed that was much of the reason people turn to ideas or concepts greater than themselves, larger than themselves—an inner struggle with this subjective understanding. Philosophies and religion offered answers that could be accepted or rejected, but even if one took them to be true, the existence of free will and independent existence made life and all its moralities a choice—a subjective choice, imposed from the inside rather than the outside. Argrave had never found a guidebook for life. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Of course, Sophia was a little young to hear that preachy spiel. Maybe when she was older, and there was less potential of her creating untold monstrosities.

“I don’t understand,” Sophia lowered her head. “I’m sorry, Argrave.”

“It’s alright,” Anneliese patted Sophia on the back. “We’ll help you understand. Argrave told you as much, did he not?”

“She’s right.” Argrave nodded. “Every step of the way, we’ll be here with you.”

Sophia grabbed the sheets of the bedside tight, trying her best to control her tears. After a while, she looked up with a brave face and asked, “Argrave, did you mean it when… did you mean it when you said that I’m… that we’re…” she bit her lip hard, then muttered weakly, “…family?”

Argrave nodded resolutely. “I did.”

“But you’re not… I mean, my father…”

“Yes. We aren’t related to you by blood.” Anneliese brushed back a wisp of the girl’s hair. “But family need not always be those you are born to. Argrave and I are family by virtue of marriage. Many of those around us, however… I would consider them family all the same, though we have no marriage or blood relation binding us.”

“Like I said. If you want to, we can be family. And we’ll never cast you out.” Argrave held his arms out to cap that point.

He hadn’t intended it as an invitation for a hug, but perhaps it was interpreted that way. Sophia lunged off the bed and wrapped her arms around his neck. Argrave was surprised for a few moments, but then gratefully accepted it and returned it. In time, she broke away and hugged Anneliese, too, trying her best to stifle tears.

When she sat back on the bed, looking utterly relieved, Argrave felt it was time to mention the real purpose they’d come here. It was somewhat haunting, so Argrave took a deep breath and prepared himself. “Sophia, on that point… one of the creations you’ve made is still alive.”

Sophia stared up at him in mute shock.

“Castro,” Argrave explained with that one word.

Sophia trembled, and couldn’t meet Argrave’s gaze.

“I already told you that we’ll never cast you out,” Argrave assured, putting his hand on her small head. “But in order for you to understand the responsibility you carry, Anneliese and I think it’s best that you once again meet Castro. And we hope to teach to you what it means to be alive.”

Sophia stared at the ground, and only after some time mumbled, “He scares me. I never…”

“We’ll be with you,” Anneliese assured, taking her small hand. “And together, we’ll make him truly alive. We’ll fix this. We’ll help you take responsibility for his life, and all others after.”

Sophia grew despondent for a few moments and Argrave feared they’d overreached, but she nodded. “Okay. I’ll… I’ll do it.”

#####

A while after Argrave and Anneliese had left the room with a sleeping Sophia, the door again opened. Elenore walked through quietly, and Sophia slept beneath the covers. She came to stand above the sleeping girl, and Sophia roused from some small noise.

“…Elenore?” Sophia asked in recognition, blinking tired eyes.

“I didn’t… intend to wake you,” Elenore said, then sat on her bedside. “I thought you were still awake.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind,” Sophia assured.

Elenore stared off into the distance. She felt a little uneasy being around children. She couldn’t so casually dismiss their worth. She felt children were still innocent—that her cynicism was unwarranted, where it was totally warranted in the case of adults. She didn’t want to be unkind to children, ever.

But Elenore’s personality slanted toward pessimism—she knew this. What she thought, what she did, was not something a child should ever be exposed to. She felt her influence might make this child precisely what Argrave and Anneliese wanted her not to become.

Despite that, this child still liked her. It was rather baffling.

“You should listen to Argrave and Anneliese,” Elenore said idly. “I… had a father rather like yours. Despite that, they’ve seen me. And they helped me.”

Sophia nodded at Elenore’s serious words, toying with the sheets covering her. Then, she dared ask, “What was your father like?”

“He cut off my feet and gouged—” she paused, scolding herself. That blunt response always came like instinct whenever someone asked a question about her father, but this was a child. She shook her head and continued, “It doesn’t matter any longer. Argrave and Anneliese accepted me as their family, and they healed me. I think they can do the same for you.”

Sophia stared as Elenore watched the distance in silence.

“Can I be your family, too?” Sophia asked.

Elenore looked at her. “I’m not half of what you think I am, Sophia. I’m…”

Silence stretched, broken by a scared Sophia asking, “Do you not like me?”

Elenore shook her head. “You’re… fine. You’re a fine child. More than tolerable. Probably the best of the ones I’ve seen, but then that’s not many. But me…”

“But Argrave said you’re the most helpful person to him,” Sophia said innocently. “And you said that Argrave is a good person. If you help a good person…”

Elenore sighed, at a loss. “Very well. You have me.”

Sophia got out from under the covers and hugged Elenore. The great and terrible Bat shook in surprise at the child’s assault, but eventually settled her arms down upon the girl. They did have a similar father, she supposed. But there was something of a new desire.

Maybe this girl could grow up the opposite way Elenore had.

#####

Argrave walked into Elenore’s study the next morning. His sister was busily peering down upon a document, but she lifted her head when she heard him.

“Orion said you’d called for me.”

“Commander Yuan was stripped of service in light of his injuries,” Elenore said. “I was studying a copy of military law that exists in the Great Chu. And I believe… I believe we’ve found a way to make headway, finally, with those few still alive. I believe we’ve found a way to utterly disrupt the armies of the Great Chu, and finally get to work on the Grand Imperial Bank.”

Argrave smiled. “Well. That’s a better way to wake up than cold water, surely.”

“Plus, Governor Zen is looking into the Palace of Heaven. All in all… we’re making tremendous headway,” Elenore smiled.