//------------------------------//
// For Shame, For Shame 
// Story: Ofolrodi 
// by Imploding Colon 
//------------------------------//

Thap!

Seraphimus' charcoal eyes opened.  Before her on the stone floor lay a single strip of edible Bleakweed.

"There ya go," Logan grunted.  He shuffled towards the side of the common room and sat at a rickety old bench.  "I know it's not as much as last time, but we have to conserve rations."  He bit into his own small morsel and muttered out the side of his muzzle.  "Not that you'd give a shit, anyways.  But that's just the way it is."

Seraphimus took a deep breath.  She reached her manacled wrists outwards and grasped the food.  "I appreciate it."

"Hrrmmff..."  Logan's nostrils flared as he munched away.  "Yeah, sure you do."

"You have been consistent in two things during my imprisonment," Seraphimus spoke quietly.  "Providing both sustenance and unmitigated opinion."

"You're still a worthless piece of crap and a waste of the mission's resources, if that's what you mean."

"Precisely."  Seraphimus took a few calm bites of her morsel.  Halfway through the meal, she looked up from where she lay next to the pipework.  "For what it is worth, it brings me an ounce of contentment."

"Hrmmffff..."  He chewed and chewed, eyeing her.  "What does?"

"Giving you something other than yourself to detest," she said calmly.  "It allows you to be more proactive."

"Pfffft..."  He nearly choked on his morsel.  A bitter smirk flashed between them.  "Go buck yourself, okay?  What—are you trying to get chummy with me now, ya dayum buzzard?"

"Simply stating an observation," Seraphimus said.  She took another bite, swallowed, and added:  "I appreciate an organized system of work."

"Uh huh..."

"...even if that work is bringing you ever so swiftly to your doom."

"Yeah.  See?"  Logan finished his food and pointed at her while munching on the last bit.  "Mmmmfff... that's where you come full idiot circle.  This whole 'everything is doomed' crud.  It's the same attitude that made you nearly sabotage all we've worked for to get here."

"Far simpler, then, to have your past completely sabotaged," Seraphimus said.  "With nothing to live for, there's nothing to look forward to.  You can do your job for the sake of doing the job."

"Is that your newly-discovered outlook on life?"

"Hasn't it been yours?"

Silence.

"Maybe I should tighten those handcuffs on you," Logan exhaled.

"Who were they?"  Seraphimus asked.

"Grfff..."  Logan stood up in a huff.  "Enough of this crud."

Seraphimus' eyes narrowed.  "They were family, weren't they?  A wife and a child?"

"You're right about one thing.  I do have shit to do."  Logan stormed off.  "Enjoy the rest of your introspection on your own."

Seraphimus said nothing as he left.  She ripped the length of bleakweed into smaller, more manageable strips.  Slowly—methodically—she dropped them down her avian gullet and swallowed.

A minute passed.

Two.

Three...

Then the heavy hoofsteps returned.

Eyecrest raised, Seraphimus looked up.

Logan marched over to the table with a stack of shields and amored plates.  CLANK!  He slapped them onto the table top and pulled a chair over.  Then, with a flick of the hoof, he produced a rag and began cleaning the materials.

Seraphimus took a breath.  "I thought you had 'shit' to do."

"And I do," he grunted.  "But you're getting uppity."

"... ... ...am I, now?"

"Figured I'd polish the stuff in here.  Keep an eye on ya."  Logan frowned into his work.  "Make sure you don't try busting out with that smarmy attitude of yours."

"Attitude is one thing," Seraphimus droned.  She rattled her cuffs.  "With the bare minimum sustenance I've received, I doubt I'd possess the strength to put up much of a fight."

"Still, can't be too safe," Logan muttered.  "We've suffered for underestimating you in the past."

"Have you?"  Seraphimus squinted.  "Have you really?"

"Keep moving that buzzard beak of you.  See where it gets you."

Both were silent.

Logan polished one shield, and then the other.  He worked on them until the ancient metals glinted in the dim manalight.

Seraphimus leaned back against a stretch of wall besides the pipework.  She weathered a heavy sigh, then stared lethargically past the stallion.  "I'm guessing the older one was your spouse... either that or your sister."

Logan tensed up, but he said nothing.  He continued working on the armor pieces.

"And the child was—most likely—your daughter," Seraphimus breathed.  "Perhaps a niece."  Silence.  Her charcoal eyes darted towards him.  "You abandoned them, I'm guessing?"

"I did not abandon them!" Logan snapped, glaring at her.

"... ... ..."  Seraphimus looked back.

With a fuming breath, Logan turned his shield over and gave it a good rub-down.  "So stop playing detective.  I'm not wrestling with the guilt of some horrible, terrible sin.  Believe it or not, the Herald's not a gaggle of foal-murdering criminals and 'Blighted' traitors."  His nostrils flared.  "I almost wish it was that way.  Then I'd have something to identify... something simple that I could name."  His ears drooped.  "At least if I had a reason to hate myself... then maybe there'd be some sense in it all.  Instead...?"  His words trailed off, as did his breath.

Seraphimus calmly gazed at him.  "I do have a reason to detest myself," she said.  "I failed Verlaxion.  And because of my failure, my husband and child are both dead.  Their blood is on my talons because I could not properly defend my goddess."  Her eyes narrowed slightly.  "I can name the reason for my shame, and I'm telling you... it is not any easier than whatever it is that you have to deal with."

Logan merely bit his lip amidst his work.

"... ... ...do you follow Rainbow Dash into oblivion because you wish to be free from your memories?"

"I'm protecting Rainbow Dash to assure the harmonious fate of this world," Logan said, frowning.  "And worlds beyond, potentially."

"Mmmmm..."  Seraphimus nodded.  "A reasonable excuse... until you pick it apart—"

"It doesn't matter how you pick it apart."

"Or perhaps it doesn't matter to you," Seraphimus said.  "How is protecting Rainbow Dash going to protect my family?"

"It'll protect my daughter," Logan said.

Seraphimus nodded again.  "I see."  She blinked.  "And how long will believing in that sustain you?"

"Belief has nothing to do with it.  She's real."  Logan finally looked up, eyes piercing.  "Her name is Luram."

Seraphimus listened quietly.

"Although... she doesn't know it..."  Logan's eyes softened noticeably as he gazed off into the lengths of Darkreach.  "...nor does she know that I'm alive."