After the High Orcs fell

Genocide did not sit well within the deep bowls of Spell. Something about the complete annihilation of one of the world’s rare cities has called into question Spell’s morality. And while at the time he had accepted it as an irreversible moment in the universe, he still needed some alone time to think over the repercussions.



Perfect Spell knew where he wanted to go, and with the newly acquired spell Greater Teleportation, he had no problems getting there. He spoke a single magical phrase: “Bring me to the location I truly desire.” This phrase was spoken in the perfect pitch, cadence, and rhythm to warp space around him to move him into a true giant’s abandoned house atop of the great sky whale he had been graced to land upon after being returned from the realm of dreams.



As the powerful magic faded, he took but a moment to reflect on the life and privileges he had been given to reach this point. The moment yield a single question that he would have to ask himself later: “Why should I only have this power?”. But a more pivotal question was biting at Spell’s moral character:



“Who am I to allow a city to be razed in but 7 minutes?”



The Orcish Khanate’s problem was solved, at least to everyone else in this existence, in less than 7 minutes.



Independent of the moral repercussions of genocide, the fact that a city could be so swiftly destroyed spoke volumes to the strength of the magic Spell and his Compatriots were messing with. If Spell and Arida had wished, it would’ve taken the two less than a fortnight to wholly annihilate every city in the known world. Spell’s mind wandered to the dark logistics of how they could accomplish such a feat, he idealized a plan as to what spells to use and when to use them in such a manner to protect himself and Airda while annihilating the very thing he was created to protect. Ultimately, he decided he had spent far too much energy on contemplating such a horrid nightmare.



Spell, refusing to utilize the tool his fathers provided him to annihilate portions of his own memory, whisked the idea out of his processor and into an isolated and dark tree in his memory bank. Had he not been so manic on never forgetting anything, he would have burnt that evil concept from his memory.



The wizard had distracted himself with one of his inner demons. He needed to contemplate the morality of this massacre, not how to spread more of it. He weighed the cost and benefits of this atrocity.



He began weighing what was lost. A city whose architecture was centuries ahead of its competitors was destroyed in what was a blink of history’s eye. An entire civilization was thrown into chaos with 7 minutes of hell on earth. It did not matter whether the would-be Khan survived because there was now no army to fuel his campaign. Spell shuttered to imagine how many magical items and artifacts were just burnt to a crisp.



Spell had made his way up to the back window of this titanic house. The window was pointed off the beasts port side and was filled with simple beauty. The sky was a bright light blue, freckled with clouds and other giant whales.



He stared down off the edge of the sky whale as he contemplated the benefits of orcish genocide. The orcish khanate was always a thorn in the world’s side; a beast that awoken every couple of centuries to terrorize and enslave large swathes of the civilization. Even if the world wasn’t in imminent danger the net result of killing millions of orcs might actually be positive. Spell had seen firsthand the destructive power of this Khanate. A unified Orcish army could have easily marched on Guldenberg, the Empire, or Free City and have enslaved or murdered each of those cities. Those cities alone total more than a million inhabitants.



The other, and possible greater benefit this genocide and city-razing brings is the (hopefully) permanent annihilation of the Khanate-based system of government. Without the history or the architecture to facilitate it, it’s very likely that Perfect Spell had just witnessed the last Orcish Khanate. This highly probably event could be guaranteed if no one stopped the Orcish colossus that arose from the city’s ashes.
The next logical question lead Spell down a path of internal conflict: If we let the colossus cull or, even worse, wholly annihilate the orcs would the world benefit. Spell guesstimated that there were about 10 million Orcs in the world. Is the loss of 10 million mostly evil creatures worth a future of relative civility? If there are no orcs left, who would go to occupy the Pegasus plains? Would another equally evil (or worse, more evil) power rise in the orcs place, like a hydra who had lost their head?



Spell was conflicted, and he realized he will be conflicted about this issue for the foreseeable future. He sought it wise not to waste his energy on what-ifs and instead influence the world to become a better place. That is what Mother would want.