Jurgen – Farron's grandfather – had eventually risen, begging Tyr to stay. Even after hearing Daito's acceptance to the invitation, he had no interest in it. It was only when the kid showed up that he'd truly agreed to stay. Their reunion was full of joy, and no small amount of tears from the boy. He was lucky, he had a good grandfather, an affectionate, caring man with soft eyes and a wide, toothy smile, still relatively strong of body, especially after being 'cleansed'.

Fireblood in Haran was about as close as you could get to a death sentence if you fell into the stage where it begun to influence fire around you. People would get it, and live based on their respective health health, but those who fell to the burning would almost always perish. A rare infection, and any cure was only as effective as your coinpurse was in buying it. The republic was very different from Haran, but in this they were the same. It was all about the money, and for what? Wealth as a measure of how much a life was worth was a bizarre concept. Granted, he'd see the bounties on the heads of bandits and been paid for killing them, so maybe he wasn't any better than the cruel system in place.

Daito insisted they stay, rather forcefully – and Okami didn't seem too interested in arguing. For him, it was a free meal, and that was everything. To hunt a deer and eat raw meat was one thing, but nothing beat 'human food' – or so he claimed. Ensuring that Tyr understood that it was his fault entirely that he had developed such a taste for it in the first place. It was a homely and hearty affair, but it wasn't bad. Tyr noticed one thing over all others, and that was the fact that the people in the republic knew how to live.

They loved, fought, cooked, farmed, everything. All with great passion. Haran was full of work ethic and duty, but they weren't often so... Passion was a good word, they weren't passionate, they seemed content with their lot and took pride in it but they weren't in love with it. Not really. His only experience otherwise were the lumberjacks in Riverwood who seemed to. Otherwise it was all toil, something you had to do to survive, a means to an end. But here, there was real passion, their vocation became their life. Every single person participating in the feast regardless of position was ripe with positive emotion and absolutely loved talking about their craft. Whether it be looming, farming, or otherwise. Tyr met a fair few shepherds who loved goats and sheep more than he'd consider normal of a rational man... Apparently it was quite a complex field. Or so they said.

“You did a good thing.” Daito was in his cups. Unlike Tyr, he didn't require some special concoction of dwarven ale and liquor or poison to become inebriated. “How did you do that? In truth, I had no idea this village was suffering from the scarlet fever, but many would have died and the churches would've been silent to their pleas. Unless they had provided the money, something these people don't have much of. Their wealth is in land and goods, more concerned with things of real value.”

Tyr sipped his frothy beverage. It wasn't bad. Tasted of walnuts and a bit of lemon, but it didn't do much to get him drunk. 'Light beer', they called it. Something even children would drink after meals, sent to early bed, so as to be ready for various chores in the morning. “Took me two days to figure it out. I just took their own ills into my body, and got more than I bargained for. As for how, it's not complicated. I built a road of sorts by connecting our anima, and they were happy to cross over. Just enough sacred flame to bait them into traversing the space. Anyone could do that.”

“They couldn't, actually.” Daito replied softly. “That was something else. It takes a real priest to rid people of ills like that, as different as their methods are. Paladins too, and you managed to do exactly what they can. If it were that easy, don't you think the healers would've figured it out by now?”

“Maybe.” Tyr shrugged, not much interest in the topic. In his mind, they simply refused to work without a significant donation to whatever church they worked for. Whether that was true or not was irrelevant. His truth was what it was, and it was. “Don't paint me as some hero. I saw a problem, and he nearly died because I took too long to fix it. Another failure, and that's all it would have been, and I wouldn't have batted an eye because of it. I'll admit that I'm pleased, but for all my twenty years, give or take, I've not accomplished as much as I thought I would.”

“And what are you supposed to accomplish? You're not a real person until you're 30. You're too young to think like that.”

“I don't see how age predicates a responsibility to accept fault or failure, whatever the case. I simply see it for what it is.”

“You've an odd way of looking at life. There is no such thing as failure, except that in failing to try. A man would die, yes, but not due to a lack of effort. Do you know why I've been observing you?” Daito asked, his deep eyes drilling a hole right through Tyr. He had an ageless wisdom about him, even if he claimed he was only in his late twenties.

The feast hall was loud and the people giddy. It wasn't often that such a 'big shot' like Daito came around to bless them. They seemed to like adventurers quite a bit, despite some of their behavior.

Leaning back into his chair, Tyr he an easy answer for him. “Because you don't want me going around claiming that I'm part of your guild and sullying your reputation. Taking liberties, abusing my power. That sort of thing.”

Daito chuckled warmly, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Yes, and no. You look at the world as if it's full of enemies all around you. Enemies around every corner, monsters in the shadows. Be they men or otherwise. You do not trust – and therefore you were not overly surprised when I made myself known. That gives you an advantage, but it burdens the soul.”

“Oh?” Tyr replied. “And there aren't enemies all around me? I can't even return to Leygein without paladins climbing out of the woodwork talking about 'purifying my flesh'. Ran into three more, actually, did them and didn't feel a thing. There are enemies everywhere. Far more of them than friends.”

“Again, you are right in a way. But far be it from me to spoil the festivities with some sage proselytizing You let your instincts guide you, and it would take years to teach you to obey the will of the world rather than the will of the self. Both are instinct, but one is important and the other petty. I've been watching you to see what you would do when presented with options. I watched you kill those paladins, but I saw how you offered them a chance to flee – multiple times – before ending them. They came for death, and found it. This is not a crime. I watched you handle a rather minor situation with a disturbing amount of aggression, and while I do not approve, it got the job done. Then, hands still bloody, you healed a man – and even when exhausted from your efforts – you kept pushing on. Stealing their woes and burdens alike. This is a good sign of character.”

Tyr snorted, draping a hand over his face. “Because it's easy for me. Well, sort of. I can do these things that other people cannot, but it's not like its a great strain. I didn't do it because I wanted to, nor because I pitied them. I behaved in a manner that someone I knew would have wanted me too. Some mimicry of how a good person would act. Ultimately, it was to my benefit – even if I went without pay for the contracts. I benefit in many ways. Being smug about it and feeling like a savior isn't my thing.”

“You were blind for four hours. With no true promise that you would regain sight, after you removed the cataracts from that woman. It is a strange thing, how you seem to be able to pull their ills from them.” Daito mused, softly tracing the runic lines on his shamisen. He'd, of course, been made to play. Many times by drunk villagers and sober children – and he'd entertained their requests. “To be born good, or to be born flawed. One behaves in the way of their nature. Be they saint, divine, whatever lofty or humble title. Which of the two do you think is the 'better person'?”

“The first.” Tyr replied immediately. “How could they not be?”

“Because...” Daito answered. “It is in the nature of water to be wet. Say you come across a river, after days of thirst. Do you think that river appeared from nowhere to slake you? No. It didn't. It was in the nature of the water to be what it is. Nature, and the things borne from it, do not care about you. They just exist. Because it is natural.”

“I've gotta be honest, captain, I'm not really following. This is all too high brained for someone like me.”

“No. It's not. To be flawed and to make the conscious decision to rail against that imperfection and do as you should rather than what you want is important. A rusty nail holding the roof together is worth more than a nail of gold that could not support the weight.”

“...”

“Mmm...” Daito chuckled in amusement again. “What do you think it is that adventurers do?”

“What do they do?” Tyr tilted his head. Okami snored loudly on his lap, the hour getting dark and many villagers passing by to give them their well wishes. Even Tyler, who had since been healed and bowed low and respectful to both Tyr and Daito. A strange turn of attitude, though the girl would have nothing to do with him despite his 'genuine' offer of marriage. “Hunt and kill monsters. Find and eliminate problems before they can hurt people?”

“True.” Daito said. “Again, you grasp the literal – black and white of things. But not the deeper nuance of life. To be an adventurer, at least on paper, is to exist as a shield that defends the less fortunate. We have knights in the republic, and we in the Hunter's are not of their number – but we take our vows just as seriously. Or so I'd like to think.”

“So you observed me to get a measure of my character?” Tyr asked. “I can't help but to think that was a waste of time. I haven't even been out here that long. For a test, it seems poorly conducted. No offense.”

“Yes, I did. And your test is far from over. To be a Hunter is to understand that we are not wolves, but rather the hounds that guard the shepherds flock. So that others might flourish, to protect and defend. There is a great duty in what we do, and it will take much more than this to prove yourself ready.”

“You sound like my old master.” Tyr pursed his lips. “Varinn.”

“Mmm... My father was a little less romantic with his prose, but he had the right idea. I think. Haven't seen him in at least a decade, though.”

“Some fathers we have.” Tyr observed, taking a swig from the mug of rapidly warming beer. He wasn't in the right state of mind to question Daito's parentage. Perhaps they were different people...

“Indeed we do.”

“With all that being said, I don't think I could ever be your knight in shining armor. Protecting people is something I can do, but caring about them really and truly? That's not me, if the order had been to burn the village down... Well, I'm sure you understand.” Tyr thought back to all of the people he had met and helped. Of those he cared about beyond a simple refusal to 'lose' could be counted on one hand. His slaughtering of the bandits, for example, was for the gal they'd had to attack his lands. He'd done that purely out of selfishness, and burned the bodies of their as he was expected to. Iscari and Alex had been like twin guides to him in developing some humanity, but they were gone and he doubted he'd ever see them again. Maybe he didn't want to.

“To be or not to be, I think. It's irrelevant. Deeds are deeds, follow whatever code or guide you'd like. The result is the same, and results matter.” Daito looked at Tyr again. Now, his black eyes were silver. They had a way of doing that. Changing to various shades through no apparent stimulus. Almost white in their luster, his irises burning into him. “You are only twenty or so. I sincerely doubt you know yourself well enough, and you've time to grow and change. Learn. Remember? This is your fresh start. Maybe there's a hero in there after all.”

“Does any of this even matter?” Tyr's lips twitched into the barest of smirks.

“It's what you make of it, all aspects of life are. As long as you do what is expected and emulate some approximate of morality. You've got an honor to you, and that's enough. I'd like to see where it takes us, continue to be a man of action, and attack the challenges presented to you. You are a judge of yourself but you'll often find that you'll never be the judge of yourself. Do what you want, make the consequences your own. Not so complicated, is it?”