The group set off for Damuro once again, and as they traveled, the topic of what to do about Tata came up. From his perspective, he had finally escaped the farm and made it all the way to the former Alterna and the Ark. Would he even want to return to Damuro where the farms were? It’d make perfect sense for him to never want to go back there again.
The idea of leaving him behind was raised, but Tata didn’t want to be separated from them, particularly Manato. When they explained with pantomime that they would be going to Damuro, it wasn’t entirely clear that he understood, but he nodded.
They decided that if Tata showed signs of unease on the way there or tried to turn back, they’d discuss what to do about him again then. The cape was a little too long for him, and he couldn’t move very well with it on, so they had him wrap it around his neck as a way of making it shorter for the time being. Haru would adjust the length for him later.
Tata was little, but he had strong legs and kept up fine without the others having to slow down for him. As they spoke, he picked up more words, and soon he wasn’t just answering Manato’s questions, he was asking his own too. He often let out a laugh, like “Fushahah!” Or expressed his displeasure by saying, “Fiyyfiyy.” Apparently, “Tah,” meant “myself,” and Manato had come up with Tata from him saying “Tah, tah,” so he was basically now named “me, me.” It had been a spur of the moment idea, but was it really okay to keep calling him that? Tata seemed satisfied, so maybe it was.
“In all likelihood,” Haru said after watching one of Manato’s interactions with Tata. “We’ve only seen one facet of what it’s like on the farm. Even though they’re being forced to live in some incredibly harsh conditions, the goblins are doing more than just suffering and giving in to despair. They communicate with one another and live as best as they can. Deciding that there could be no joy in such a place, and they couldn’t possibly have any hope...was presumptuous of me. I underestimated them.”
“You’re right,” Yori agreed. “Tata’s smart. So smart that you might think he’s some kind of super goblin, but he probably isn’t. That makes me all the more motivated to free as many goblins as I can.”
“Maybe Tata understands what we’re trying to do,” Riyo said in a low voice. “And he came along because he wants to help us.”
After some time, they heard a sound like an explosion in the distance. They were almost at the Old City of Damuro. They could see the rubble of its walls up ahead.
“More of Tada-san—Taidael’s handiwork, huh?” Haru muttered.
“Yori is wondering about something,” Yori said, coming to a stop. “Do you see that saint as Taidael? Or the person you once knew as Tada-san?”
“Well...” Haru put a hand on his mask where his mouth would be, seemingly at a loss for words.
Tata was watching Haru closely. He edged closer to Haru, and tugged on his cloak. When Haru noticed, he gently patted Tata on the head.
“Are you worried about me? You’re so nice, Tata. But compared to what you’ve been through, my doubts and indecisiveness seem trivial. I lost the will to move forward, and came to a standstill for a long time. My problems felt overwhelming to even think about, so I simply averted my eyes from them. Honestly, I don’t think the word ‘indecisive’ even really comes close to covering it.”
“Haru... Okay?” Tata asked.
“Yeah. I’m okay,” Haru gave Tata another pat on the head, earning him a short laugh.
“Now, back to your question,” Haru said, turning to Yori. “Even though he is now Taidael, the Saint of Tremors who serves Lumiaris, Tada-san is still Tada-san. The converts and the thralls might have worshipped Lumiaris and Skullhell, but I can’t imagine that they willingly offered up their bodies to be transformed like that. They were forced to submit by beings with such overwhelming power that people call them gods.”
“So, you don’t think it’s okay to leave them like that?”
“No. You’re right, Yori. Honestly, I’ve never thought that. Not even for a second. Tada-san was a weirdo, but he was true to his feelings and loyal to those he cared about. And he never once wavered. If he was told that he had to either bend his beliefs or die, he wouldn’t have hesitated to choose the latter. That’s what he was like. And he wasn’t the only one. The older soldiers I respected...so many of my comrades in arms...were warped by the gods.”
“And you can’t turn them back?” Manato asked.
Haru shook his head. “I don’t know, but...in order to save the converts, for example, their hexagrammic light cores would have to be removed to free them from their god’s domination. And those light cores are located in parts of their bodies, like the brain, that control their vital functions. Is it even possible for them to live through having those cores removed? It’s hard to say, but it would undoubtedly be very difficult for them to survive.”
“Hrmm.” Manato tried to sort out everything Haru had told him inside his head.
No, there was no need for that. Haru had explained the problem in a roundabout way, but it wasn’t actually that difficult to understand. He was just hesitant to state his conclusion directly.
Was that really all there was to it?
Haru had given up on agonizing over these things. If Manato had been in the same position, maybe he would have done the same. It sounded like a pretty hopeless conundrum, after all.