âHatred is the child of fear, anger, and resentment. Allowing oneself to be consumed by hate only surfaces forth more suffering,â Eliwood replied, his answer nearly immediate, his eyes reflecting an unwavering ideal, âI refuse to subject myself to such thinking. Hate is negative feeling and thus, it can only result in a negative consequence. At least, that is what I believe.â His answer likely extended past that of which the morph was seeking, but Eliwood deemed it necessary regardless. Hate drove even the kindest of people into rationalizing the worst as a necessary evil for some perceived âgreaterâ cause.
His thoughts lingered back to Nergal and his morphs, the very detail that had brought forth so much sudden discomfort and emotions. A man that had been corrupted, then driven by his own self-interest. It was a tragic tale. Eliwood didnât believe that a person could truly be born evil. It was influence that shaped someone to become profoundly immoral.Â
Perhaps that is also why he finds himself unable to hate Limstella. They are not human, but they were created by an evil hand. Killing and serving Nergal was all they knew. They never had a chance to discern for themselves the morals from which the world operated. How could he place the blame on them? Their hand has killed, but does being misguided excuse their sins? But would they ever tread along the right path?
âNergalâs greed guided his hand, coordinating the deaths of innocents for his own cause. He cunningly attempted to start a war to fuel his own selfish goals. I once felt something akin to anger towards himâŠsadness and pain. But I have never hated him. I only pitied him for losing his humanity.â
Why had he said such a thing? It was not questioned nor prompted, but impulse drove him to say it. His lack of composure brought him discomfort.
âPray, forgive me. I amâŠoverwhelmed.â
Eliwood attempted to rationalize his emotions, as humans often did, elevating himself above his baser instincts, yet Limstella could neither believe nor doubt him. Hate itself they did not feel, and could only conceptualize it as a retaliation. Had Eliwood retaliated against those who had harmed him? From Limstellaâs point of view, it seemed so, but perhaps something else fueled him...
Then something sparked inside of them, like a small flame burning their insides. An uncomfortable sensation, and Limstella found themselves focused on Eliwoodâs condemnation of their master.
âLord Nergal did not need pity.â Their tone remained unchanged, and yet as they spoke the words, they felt as if a valve had opened and released some of that fire. But Lord Nergal was also dead, and defending him was a senseless waste of time. The flames extinguished and Limstella regarded Eliwood with a different curiosity. Pain etched his face, the conversation appearing difficult for him, but it had not been Limstellaâs intent to cause the young lord harm.