Everything was just [i]wrong[/i]. People were dead, and not by the bandits hand but by [i]their[/i] hand. They had never set out to take lives only to secure the ship, and they could have done so with everyone being able to walk away from this. So why then were there dead men all over the place? Some killed by the men in suits, others by members of their own party, Ethan couldn't understand it. What reason was there to take a life? If you beat someone enough they wouldn't fight, murder didn't need to be a part of that. Seeing the chaos that had unfolded up on the deck coupled with Cecil killing a man himself was just too much for the Muran to take, something inside of him snapped and he had to try and put an end to it. 

By this time Ethan was utterly exhausted, expending too much magic and barely able to keep himself standing much less fighting. Regardless he struggled to his feet and approached Cecil, grabbing the Machina by the shirt and lifting him up slightly off his feet, demanding to know why he'd done what he had. Around him he could hear Nymira calling him off and Amuné pleading for him to let Cecil go, yet he felt he had to have his answers He needed to know why despite repeatedly saying not to take a life the Machina had taken not one, but two and perhaps even more, he hadn't checked yet. All Ethan knew so far was what little he had witnessed coming up from below deck and that in of itself was enough for him.

"Why did you do it Cecil? Why did you kill them?!" Ethan repeated, tears welling up as he tried to get an answer out of his friend. Seeing the pained and frightened look on Cecil's face didn't make it any easier to question him, making the Muran just feel awful for even doing this. When an apology was stammered out he couldn't bear to do it any longer, releasing his grip and letting out a silent, choked sob before running a hand through his hair. Men killed, and for what? Silks? Rum? Things that meant nothing and men had died for it, what a waste of life that was. If those men had been spared maybe they would have been better for it, now they never had a chance to try and make amends. Whatever families they might have, friends, dreams and hopes... Gone.

With everything as grim as it was to Ethan right now he was baffled to hear someone's laughter breaking the uneasy silence. Looking over his shoulder he blinked back tears seeing Zander rising to his feet, apparently finding something funny in this situation. Worse still was the fact that a healer of all people was arguing about the ethics of killing someone while bringing up a question almost impossible to answer. "I... No... Killing someone doesn't avenge a murder, and it doesn't make things right," Ethan replied weakly, casting his eyes downward as he spoke. The guards always preached the importance of justice over vengeance, over letting your rage or heartache concerning loss drive your actions. It was important for men in that line of work to be able to keep their heads clear enough, otherwise they'd be racing off constantly to fight bandits or monsters. So then why was he having so much trouble with it?

"Do not lecture me, Zander... As if you know what you're talking about," Ethan replied bitterly, raising a hand to wipe at his red eyes before turning to face the healer, "Just because something is easier doesn't mean you should do it. Cheating is easy, lying is easy, stealing is easy, but would you do all of that, just because its simpler?" No, you'd take the moral high ground, try to be the good person and do the right thing. Yes fighting an opponent intent on killing you was difficult even if you were willing to strike them down, and having a more reserved, almost pacifist approach made it even more difficult. Yet that shouldn't be the reason for not trying, just because it was hard. Plenty of things in life were difficult, you couldn't avoid hardship.

Clearly there was a clash of ideals taking place here. For Nymira she found no fault in what had been done, death was a part of the battlefield and a fact of life. That being said she didn't see the point in useless deaths, nor did she have any taste for executions, such as what the men in suits had done. A defeated enemy should have to live with their shame and doubt, they deserved the right as a warrior to try and regain that pride, be it in victory or in death. Slaying men as those in the suits had done, there was no honor in that, no chance to fight back. As Zander pointed out it was not unlike slaying beasts which they lived off of, done purely out of desire or a simple want to kill. Both men were in the right to a degree, and she wasn't going to take sides despite where her loyalties might lie. The fight was done, what was done was done, now they simply had to recoup and leave this ship to claim their reward. 

"It's all below deck, I'm certain. You'll remain where you are," Nymira told Zander firmly, approaching as she clenched one of her hands into a fist. "If you so much as move I'll be certain to put you out as well, and this patient of yours can wait longer. I will not stand by idly as someone laughs in the face of a warrior's death as you did, it's disgraceful." Bandits, soldiers, guards, regardless of their reason for fighting they all fought and died for something, that should be honored, even if their reasons were impure. To die for a cause was how their sort lived and diminishing that was utterly repulsive, something which Ralthor would strike down were it to happen on his soil. Rubbing at her sore throat the Dimuran woman glanced about at the bodies strewn across the deck, some breathing and others motionless in a pool of their own blood. Just as these men fought and died for their causes so too had they, and there should be no regrets over what had happened. 

A ways from the chaos of the Aube Doré a small contingent of guards was fast approaching. Accompanied by the secretary of the mayor, as the man was currently indisposed, and Lazlo they made a fast path to the site of the battle following the eccentric merchant's directions. The sound of metal boots clattering against the stone-ridden roads, branches snapping beneath their feet and chain armor shifting with every moment caused a song of steel in the otherwise silent forest, signaling the approach to anyone nearby. After a good few moments of travel the ship itself finally came into view, and to anyone present they could promptly see that the situation had escalated badly. A handful of bodies lay at the landing, and doubtless a few more were on the deck. Figures could be seen standing aboard the ship itself, though from this distance it was difficult to ascertain who it might be. 

"Men, fan out and form a perimeter, no one gets in and out of this area," the lead guard called, fanning out to his right with his sword, "I don't care if its one of those children or one of the bandits, everyone is to be brought to me for questioning." They had to be certain who they were dealing with here, knowing now that Magi had been employed. Personally he had no ill will towards the sort but he knew what they were capable of, and the risk that they faced potentially fighting one. Even children were dangerous if their abilities were not kept in check and they could easily lose a battle should that come to pass. Watching as his men fanned out, the guard frowned as his eyes drifted once more towards the Aube Doré, trying to figure out just what had happened there. Clearly the battle was over and the ship still in one piece, but who was victorious?

A pair of two guards, a Muran and a Ydran, cut their way through the brush as they approached the shoreline. Someone might try to make a retreat either down here out of view or through the water, all avenues of escape had to be considered here. With a sword in each of their hands they moved as swiftly as they could while trying to remain undetected, not wanting to alert anyone preemptively and cause a skirmish. As they raced through the trees the sound of a limb breaking prompted each to stop, their heads on a swivel as their eyes scanned for anyone, or anything in the immediate vicinity. It didn't take long to spot a woman racing away from the scene of the battle, a pack on her back and curiously unharmed despite the chaos that apparently had taken place. Wordlessly the two guards both made a move to cut her path off, weapons brandished as they stood in her way. "Halt! You are to go no further, stay where you are and surrender yourself to the guard!"

Approaching the ship were now three guards, doing so quite slowly and with weapons drawn. Before they even reached the landing one could smell the blood in the air as a cool breeze carried it forth, though their seasoned senses did not waver at the smell. At about 20 meters out one of the men drew his bow and took aim, his arrow pointed at a young looking boy preemptively, not knowing who they might be. When his comrade signaled for him to lower his weapon however he did so, albeit the narrow remained notched as they slowly moved forward. "You there! Lower your weapons and identify yourself!" the forefront guard shouted, furrowing his brow as he realized there were others on board as well. They were all young, were these the children that the mayor had sent? Had they done all this? Terrifying lot, these Magi.