Two years I had chased this monster down, and today, finally, I have cornered him. The man who burned my village down and revived the charred bodies of my loved ones with his unholy magics, the king of necromancy, Arnold.

Arnold coldly stares off the edge of the rocky cliff, under the sunset that dyes the sky a crimson red.

"I have just one question," I demand, "and that's why?"

"Why?" Arnold inquires, "You want to know why, Emily?"

He tosses a skull that shatters on the jagged rocks below the cliff, "The answer is simple. The answer is humans."

The elven man, his black cloak hiding the rotted flesh held together by magic and stiches, turns the smell of his decayed body truly sickening as he speaks, standing taller than me by several inches, "Humans are disgusting creatures who will always abuse their young. They do not deserve life. Every mother and father in your village was trash."

"You're insane." I glare, "Some, yes, but not every-"

"Irrelevant," The mad elf coldly retorts. "A race like yours cannot be good. They will always sin."

"Nothing is perfect," I explain, "but humanity naturally moves towards good and that's always accelerating. Every good deed anyone does accelerates that, and no one can undo that acceleration. Everyone has worth and-"

"Silence!" Arnold yells, jagged ice appearing in a circle around him. "Your race is imperfect! I cannot, will not, allow a child to suffer! Even if I must kill your entire race to do so! They have suffered long enough, and I cannot bare to see them in pain any longer! You humans believe in Heaven, do you not?"

Arnold summons a spear made of ice and yells, "Then I'll send your entire race home!"

"You're a sick man who has suffered too much." I sigh, "I promise to accelerate natrual progression for you. I'm sorry you couldn't see natrual progression and the beauty of humanity."

"Irrelevant when it will never be perfect!" Arnold screams, "Die!"

Arnold is a sick and broken man, a sick and broken man who lunges in a blind rage at me. I counter quickly with my blade, deflecting his spear and throwing a knife into his chest. Despite his decay, he still bleeds, and gushing blood from his elven heart he falls to one knee glaring.

He is not dead yet. He doesn't yield, charging one final spell, yelling, "I only wanted to make the world perfect! True perfection can only be achieved without you! I know because my parents were scum! They were humans who adopted me and my brother! They beat us and beat my brother to death! Don't you get it? This has to be done!"

I lift my blade, and for some reason, I don't feel angry at Arnold, but sad. Pity is the word. Arnold is a bad person, yes, but I do not believe he will go to Hell. He is a victim of circumstance, and truly deserves the chance to be better. Do I believe Arnold will go to Heaven? Yes, but not because what he did was good; what he did was horrible, but because what he did was the best he could do with his life.

"I'm sorry, Arnold." I sigh, "May you rest in peace."

I slice and kill the elven man, removing his head from his body.

I sigh, knowing deep down he is techinally correct. Humanity will never be perfect, and that's okay. Perfection is impossible, but that doesn't matter. What matters is that we will always be better. Better today than yesterday, and better tomorrow than today.

With that I sheathe my sword and finish my quest now knowing the reason. Why a man would do such horrible things. Such seemingly irredeemable things. The reason this necromancer desired to wipe out my race. A reason that I do not agree with, but that I understand. In a way Arnold and I are the same. We both did what we thought was right. While I will never agree with it. I understand it. I understand the hatred. I understand how being hurt by humans in such a horrible way would break a man. I don't agree with it, but I understand the reason.

Arnold's reason.