A Mercenary's Words

Tales from a menagerie of characters.

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A Mercenary's Words

Post by Talathian »

Quoth

A leather bound journal with pages trimmed in goldleaf had recently been left in the capable hands of a young elf. Thick red was wound from cover to cover with a gold sew and a sunken emblem in each face. A reliquary for memories it had been bestowed with the intent that its insides be torn open and dissected. Quill strokes had taken thoughts from a conflicted but honest mind and spilled them onto naked pages for words to fill with their glee, turmoil and everything in between. The smith responsible for these pages had no perfect crucible and did not use a forger's hammer. At times the words slurred, the ideas were not easily conveyed and the result may have been more confusion than when beginning but one thing was for certain; there could be no more accurate account for the actions that took place.

The journal had been left with its front facing down and its back facing up so that one looking down on it might consider flipping it over, but that was not how it had been intended to be opened. Season in reverse the red would give way to a green footnote etched in the center of the first page:

Should this be too sore to read, for that I am sorry, but with time it will ease. You may bend like a willow in the wind and you might feel as though all hope is lost as you lean to the setting sun but remember this: no other eyes will tread these words as yours do now, and no other eyes shall gaze upon my own as yours have.

Upon the turning of the final page in the journal it was evident how much time had gone into perfecting the art. With a quarter inch left to spare in each direction the latter half of the journal had been hallowed out with a lazer-precision. A small lacquer box was perfectly inset within the cavity in the pages and atop it was a folded paper with an eye drawn atop it.

Initially it was a meticulously folded thing, almost rivaling the finest of origami arts. Unfurling the minor puzzle would reveal a sight that only one pair would see:

Image

No words will remedy my absence nor will any amount of ether I fear. I have grown terribly fond of the time spent within your company and the fear has sprouted over some time from a black seed in the pit of my stomach that this day might come. Entombed within these pages you will find the answers you seek, that much I can assure you. However first I would have you know those that I could not say.

You find those stories so enjoyable; a land without elves where they may only dream of such a thing to be 'fantasy'. Is it so remarkable that somewhere might exist a state where we are nothing more than a thought? As I write this now within my tent, the sounds of the quill make your voice seem so distant, so far away, and yet it is only a thought that resonates within me. That thought that you will one day be reading these words as I speak them aloud, transcribing them through time. I wish for you to keep reading those tales as you have and I wish that you would enjoy them so with that look in your eye of mystique and awe. In my time in this city I have stumbled across a man who claims to be from such a world. You might be fast to assume that I am lying with what comes next but truthfully, I did not stab him nor did I threaten to.

I inquired with him a few things about the world he came from including many works of art, many written and otherwise produced. What I stumbled upon was remarkable and I must share it with you now. Are you aware in their world your name is written differently? Raven they spell it! With my own very eyes I read their tales and I have copied for you a piece!

" But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—
Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before—
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.”
Then the bird said `Nevermore`. "

Does the irony strike you as it did me? Raven! In a world where we are thought of as imaginary that would not withhold them from writing of you! Weep not as you read this but rejoice for even in a world without you, as damned as they are, they might still share even an inkling of your being; how fortunate they are to have even captured that. I bartered my rations for the next month so that I might have the means to acquire this for you. It is a relic from that world, the world you sometimes get lost in. It is a Raven. I hope you might think of me when you don it. Do not misunderstand these last words for goodbye, but know that I shall not be slain, nevermore."


Within the box was that which would cost a month's rations in trade.

Image

((cross posted from here))
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Post by Talathian »

((this is a cross post from here))

Chapter I: Remembrance


"Eun'Oloch? That doesn't sound elven, why would we even bother going there?" Simple at the time for a young man I posed the question which unbeknownst to me sheltered such heavy ideas.

It was on that day I learned a powerful lesson. Not like the magics of old that could erase a continent in the blink of an eye but like the brush of a mother's hand against her son's cheek and how it would calm the raging beasts in his stomach and heart. What is wisdom? Can you measure it? These were the questions I asked myself but never my father. I carried with me the unbridled notion that there were indeed stupid questions and he was an important man who led his people. He was a man who couldn't be slowed down by the silly questions of a young man, let alone his son. So I kept these wandering thoughts to myself and tried to make sense of them all.

Even now when all feels the same and the world has lost its luster I can still see his face turning to me from atop his trusted steed. He smiled which was not rare in front of the men we rode with. He smiled and when he did it felt as if he had stretched his hand out and pat me on my head.

"You are asking of me the same words your mother and the council did. Tell me, do you wish to be a warrior or a scholarly consult who grows old and hunches over a candle at night?" He was always clever with his traps my father. He knew how to prod a wild boar into a clearly visible pitfall and I was no smarter then.

"Of course not! I'm going to be as valiant and honorable as you are!" It only made sense for a young boy to praise his father so- full of awe and mystique. He laughed for a good while and turned back around as we passed across the Narrow Neck. Looking back on it it was a cliche name for the natural bridge; an ancient root system for one of the massive red-oaks had grown thirsty and decided on its own one day to begin to reach for the other side of the gorge. It spiraled as it went, leaving a patchwork of veins along the way to support its mass.

"What is honor, T'alathian?" He did not need to turn again to face me for my complete understanding. Another lecture that I sighed and rolled my eyes at.

"Everyone who has read the old fables knows what honor is. Honor is won on the battlefield and it is a signet that separates legends from the nameless." Had I known what lay in my future path, I would have chosen my answer a lot more carefully. He slowed his steed so that he was now beside me and paused to a halt. Naturally I matched the stance and looked out beyond the gorge where the wildlife was flourishing and as far as the eyes could see there was a lush blanket across the fertile crescent.

"Victory in battle is one way to achieve honor, yes. Honor may etch a name in stone rather than dirt in the tides of history, yes. But you have not answered my question T'alathian." When he let his mind trail off into the setting sun I could see the look in his eyes that filled me an uneasy set of fluttering butterflies. He had no armor or walls up and in that day when he turned to me I knew- everyone knew who had the good fortune to see that face, that he was pure of mind and heart.

"It is not an elven name nor is it an elven kingdom, nor are there any elves present within its boundaries. It is a swampy marsh that has no natural resources and relies purely on trade to sustain its living. They are a people of not war but love, for their people, their land and life. Within those marshes they have resided for generations merely living as best they can and they have never risen a hand to cause harm to others." It wasn't with a switch that his subtle demeanor changed and morphed from awe to forlorn with pain seeping from those same eyes that had just been illuminated. The sunset wasn't warm anymore and the cold night began to take its place overhead.

"Honor, T'alathian, is upholding what it means to be you, when it is the least fortunate for you. Honor is disregarding what people might say and doing what you believe and know to be right. It cannot be won as a prize in combat and it cannot be falsified with documents or even granted by any man or woman in the world. It has to come from within." He extended his index finger and tapped upon my chest, right where my heart had been beating ravenously.

"Honor is hearing the call of those who desperately need a hand to pull them from the darkness and not looking, not hesitating, but offering that hand." He set his palm on my shoulder and in the beckoned silence I nodded and asked the question that had been begged.

"Do they need our help?" I knew the answer already but as if the stars had written our script I followed eagerly, knowing that the answer would be bestowed upon me.

"Now more than ever." He responded with a stoic face, one not void of emotions but one so perfectly set and utterly devoted to the notion that when it was asked of us, whether it be our swords, our armor or our lives- we would answer the call.

On that day I began to fully understand what it meant, that elusive being that was wisdom. It didn't blossom within my head but the seeds had been set. We didn't need to stop on the last leg of the trek and I didn't need to ask anymore questions about where we were going or why. All of my lingering thoughts had been hushed with the image that my father had delicately offered my young soul. It was the honorable thing to do.
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Chapter II: The Marsh Kingdom Eun'Oloch

Fog rolled through the canyon as would a terribly unwanted assault of dust from an outdated set of leather hide. I recall quite clearly the brief moment where my father and his steed disappeared. Should I have outreached with my hand, I may have felt his being and it would have set my trembling heart at rest; however these were to be my men one day behind me and I could not show that weakness, not now and not ever. Licking past my frame of vision I could not remember which was more breathtaking: the lush overgrowth that felt more like an oasis in the red wasteland or the massive tree that supported it all.

The caravan stopped and I nearly bumped right into father's steed. "Wooah~!" I pulled on the reins and quickly avoided any truly embarrassing feats. It was not a matter I could recall when the hooves of our horses ceased to 'clack' against the arid tiles of decaying waste and grew silent over the lush mossy cobblestone path and were surrounded by the green and blue of well-nourished life.

"We have arrived T'alathian. Take a few deep breaths and let her sink in. Not many ever get to see that Tree of Life without paying a dear price." Father spoke the words so easily, summarized the sight so effortlessly that had grasped my brain in its tight tourniquet. I could not force words from my mouth that could do justice for what I saw before me. Instead I simply followed as the caravan began to file into the blue-green anomaly with the utter need to be stabbed soon to assure me I was not in some deep whimsical slumber.

Under the massive stone arch we entered the lands. Green ivy and moss grew over the ancient structure but the center piece remained clean as though it had been erected the day prior. A beautiful script ran over the stone and though I had been practicing my tongue for a while, I struggled for the translation.

"All of thee who seek her embrace all ye need do is ask. The Mother Tree rejects none and gives to all." A deep voice resonated through the sturdy oak that was the spine to the houses and shops that ran along the left and the right of the center path. The hustle and bustle of children running and playing, the trade going on and the commoners chatting was hushed temporarily to the point that I swore I could hear a pin drop in the distance. A larger man with his thick bushy beard, bald head and his gargantuan brown eyes came directly at us. He wore a similar garb to everyone else under the massive spire of green and wood, mostly silk or some kind of cloth with a rope belt and tassels that were at the waist and over each shoulder. His was a little more adorned to the eyes though. The few men that followed him looked to be more adept of mind than of the body, a council I might presume that wore silver tassels instead of the gold, and though his silk was purple and deep, theirs' had been a burgundy, clearly still standing out from the common folk who wore a light blue.

"T'Anathiel!" His elvish caught me off guard almost as much as his size when he was just before us. He was a large man and I felt that his palms could crush my skull were he to merely pick me up, one of which would suffice to lift me off the ground I was sure of that at least.

"Anwynn my dear friend!" I have never seen my father dismount so lazily but show such a respect, almost as if he were the lesser of the two to the man who approached. They gripped one anothers' forearm in an embrace and I could hear the entire company dismount behind me. I followed suit immediately while standing ahead of my steed. I recall my fit well, I was 6'0, about done growing but I was not as full as my father, or anywhere near as full as this man Anwynn.

"And look at this one!" I felt the attention like a bag of stones being hoisted upon my shoulders and felt as though his gaze alone might snap my spine. He was a man of presence, of weight and of measure; there was no second guessing his worth or his confidence, he was truly a man of respect. I reached out and his handshake nearly crushed my hand. He wore the massive smile and I could tell he did not mean anything by it, he simply greeted all with everything he had; I like to think that was his philosophy in life really.

"I'd like to say he looks so young but my gut tells me he is at least my age if not more!" His laugh bellowed as he rest his hand on my father's shoulder and began to lead the way up the inconceivably huge pathway that disappeared into the base of the massive tree. It was my first time really observing it, with my neck tilted back and my eyes, a perfect sight, almost needing to squint to see the top. A woman's face had been carved into the bark, so large that I dare not guess how many men it took or how long the task may have spanned for such a feat to be completed. Years, decades even. The Caravan began moving towards the massive natural structure and I could not help but to take in everything around me.

The tree's span set a canopy over the immediate land below which constituted most of the common living spaces. The city was circular around the roots and through the centers in the shape of an 'x' were two rivers that were channeled through natural aquaducts for plumbing and infrastructure like transportation. The massive tree itself was a home for those with the hectic responsibilities to uphold and maintain the balance in their lifestyle. The engineers, the scribes, the record keepers and all of the in betweens. Though one thing could be noted as I wandered through the streets of the common city then traveled through the Tree of Life; I had not seen a single weapon or shield, or even armor. These people had no means to fight whether it be to defend one another or harm one another. I could not believe my eyes but it was the case!

Night fell as I had been exploring the massive insides of the tree and soon enough I found myself at the library. More tomes than I could count lined the cavernous passage ways that were warped and misshapen due to the nature of the building they resided within. The smell of thick honey could not be avoided at this point since the nation's gross domestic product I had been taught was their exporting of the naturally grown wax. I acquired as many tomes as I figured would keep me during our stay and went on my way back to my assigned quarters. By candle I began to recount my trip's details until I heard a knock on the door. I turned and imagined I'd see my father in the doorway but instead I was confronted with the larger man, Anwynn.

"Good evening T'alathian." I to this day can recall the perfect annunciation on his vowels, the way his tongue rolled over the synapse in my name with ease as though he'd done this a thousand times prior to my knowledge. I was in a hurry to stand up and give him a proper greeting but he was quick to place a hand on my shoulder and not allow me to leave my seat at the desk. "No, none of that. No formalities tonight I have simply come to speak with you, man to man." He eased the door shut behind him and I could not dispose of the uneasy feeling growing within my gut.

"Do you know why I am visiting you tonight?" He spoke with a calm voice, something unlike before but it still had the power to stir a storm within my chest and to set my hairs on end. He commanded such strength and yet never held a weapon in my sights, never even dared to own any or to let any of his people own any. I was in awe in his presence and felt like an ant beside a god.

"I do not." Awfully formal even when he had specifically asked for me not to be, I responded like an automaton.

"I have a very important task to ask of you, T'alathian. I am not going to ask this with an easy face or a calm heart- it is purely out of necessity. What I'm going to ask on top of this task is the burden that you do not, you absolutely cannot speak to your father about this." His words pierced my chest and ripped the boards clean open exposing my naivete. "You do not have to voice an answer now but please just hear me out." He took a seat beside me and I felt as though with the candle light dancing within his eyes I could see through him, right to his core and what I saw I will take with me throughout the rest of my days; the unadulterated authenticity. There was not an inch or a millimeter or an ounce of this man that did not act in his fullest.

"I, I cannot say that I can do this task for you sir Anwynn if I do not know what it is I am to do. And do withhold it from my father I-" he shook his head and smiled something so raw I felt my insides curl and decay from the sheer sense of emotion I was getting from that look in his eyes. It felt as though he was going to burst at the seams at any moment.

"You are a good son T'alathian. You're going to be a great man some day, which is why I need you to ride tonight out as far as you can. There is a spy who will be leaving here tonight with the details of our city and plans to do severe damage with it. I will need you and you alone to see to it that they do not reach their destination." He did not free me from the grip of his eyes or his gaze.

"I don't understand, why me? Why do I have to keep this a secret?" I was confused that much was certain but he did not give me the time to hear his answers. He lifted me up by the arm and began to escort me through passages I had not even seen before.

"You will ride tonight and you will not turn back. Do you hear me?" He was firm with his grip and proceeded to hold me just over the edge of a chute, one I did not know the end to and could not have the time to gather myself. "You must not fail, T'alathian."

Those were the last words I heard of Anwynn as I was let go into the chute and could see his face for a moment longer before I was whisped out of view. I didn't know why but I can still remember it now, he wore such a massive smile with the words but he had begun to cry.
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Chapter III: Nightfall

It was dark and although it wasn't painful, it was certainly uncomfortable to have slipped what felt like an eternity in the dark passage. It was not meant for people, I realized that quickly enough while I traveled through the intricate system of old roots. I was jettisoned out and deposited right onto a pile of hay in the stables. "Oof!" I hit the ground after stumbling and it took me a moment to regain my composure after having the wind knocked out of me.

It was eerily quiet on the night. I remember taking my careful steps as though the place had been littered with bombs. Why had Anwynn been so discrete? Why was I entrusted with such an important matter? And why was I being asked to keep this from father? Things were happening too quickly and I was left dusting myself off with a decision to be made. Would I betray this man's trust, a man who I had just met and he was asking me to discard all that I knew for a night's task? His intentions seemed pure, his reasoning was there but a spy? Something felt off to me, I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but if I could- it wouldn't be a mystery would it? I crept up close to the barn's door and edged myself to the opening. It was a quiet night, the soldiers had setup their perimeter around the city limits and their lights were vivid from their tents. I could overhear some of the discussions being held, slurred words and broken phrases.

"Thanks the godths you're here!" The man wore one of those burgundy robes with the silver tassels, I assumed that meant he was one of the officials or wisemen of the city. "Come don't be shy! Have yourself a drink!" He was fumbling with the ale and spilled it over the man's shoes. The elf, I recognize his face as being one of our Lieutenants stepped back with a disgusted face and bit back some words. Strange, for guests as hospitable as this, why weren't our men indulging more?

Fortunately or not that was not an encounter that went on for much longer. The official ended up regurgitating the ale he'd just drank in a most disgusting manner and the Lieutenant and his company all relocated. I suppose I would count my blessings or thank the man at a later date, but at the current hour, I had no idea what was going on. There was a time and a place for most concerns but I knew if I was going to vacate the city's walls it was going to need to be a fast steed. None other would do aside from Mista. She was young but she left all the rest trailing behind her. A black steed with yellow eyes she'd been my favorite since the first time I laid my eyes on her, originally condemned for being too small to be of use, I begged father to let me keep her as my own. His words rang true to this day, Should she falter and you die for it, it will be on your hands alone, not mine. He may have been joking, or not, for all I knew but one thing had remained true; she had never faltered.

Easing her from the stables was without a struggle as I gripped the black reins and began moving out towards the south axis on the 'x' of rivers. I knew very well that the many tents were manned and for some odd reason our men were not partaking in the festivities going on, so for one to glance at my hood or see my form or my steed, this would quickly be unraveled that is why on the opposite side of the stables a boat began to slowly glide down the river. It wasn't manned however it had cargo. Hay that I had ignited now began to head down the opposite direction. I could hear the beginnings of commotion as voices grew louder and whistles could be heard echoing in the distance. That was one of the risks of living in a land that could go up in flames at any moment. I counted my breaths as my pace grew faster and this monotonous sound of screams began to grow louder, almost contending with the heavy beats in my chest from my heart. Faster I began to sprint now with Mista carrying pace effortlessly. The cold chills ran down my spine as I prayed my elvish tongue right out of my mouth, my words trickled through my gritting teeth. Faster, faster. I began to feel the thumps rip in my chest as I turned and saw the smoke rising from the boat. Come on, run, run, run.

"Hey! You there! Stop!" A guard, one I could not recognize called out to me before another grabbed him by the wrist and began off in the direction of the boat. "We don't have time for that, let's put that thing out before it spreads!"

I didn't have time to think, the hooves beside me were roaring like thunder and with as much of the night's air that my lungs could hold I leaped from the ground and with one hand on the saddle drew atop Mista. She was fast, faster than I'd ever remembered her before. Were I to be stopped here and now, it would mean not even I could talk my way out of whatever father would deem. I could not express why I had followed Anwynn's wishes to a T on that night. The wind blew the hood from my face but by the time we pierced through the lit torch tents on the perimeter we were too fast to be caught. We tore from the city and briefly had a trail of dust kicked behind us.

Against the moonlight we rode for at least an hour. How was I to know what direction to go? Where was this 'spy' going to be? I chose the South because it was farthest I could remember without the river drying up. The night's air was warm and blanketing within the city but out on the plains and the desert-like expanse there was no warmth. It was frigid and as I drew close to Mista I could feel her beginning to slow down. Over the ridge though I could see smoke rising. It was a large boulder roughly twenty feet high and it had a bit of the river pouring out beside it. I eased Mista into a trot and then set her to a spike behind the boulder within reach of the river and the grass to either side. Slowly I began to round the boulder and as I drew closer to the light source my hands went behind my back to the curved blades that rested within their sheathes tied to my belt. Their smooth surfaces vacated the leather without so much of a whisper as I turned into view. They were lean and in all black from head to toe. Their eyes met mine as I turned into view of the fire and there was not even a moment's breath before a spear nearly took my eye out of it's socket.

Too close for any other evasion I bounded backwards with the blades' hilts in my palms as my form bent like a willow until the spring was complete. They were ruthless with their chase and the form was without holes. The twin sickles I bore were enough merely to keep the spear at by with a minor misdirect to and fro; every step they took had me in retreat three. Swift strikes were hard enough to follow in the daylight but their serpentine form was as dangerous as it was subtle in the flickering fire and the moonlight which did little to gauge their positioning. I'd been caught in the arm and let out a groan when my arm went to the wound. Hunched over with my breaths heavy I stood.

"So you're the spy then?!" My words were choice and were as I assumed to be my last as they approached for another thrust. I simply could not contend with their speed, their grace. The blade halted before my face, mere inches from a lobotomy.

"What?" The voice was androgynous though something told me in its wake, it was not a man. "What did you just say?! Speak now if you value your life!"

"I was told to ride out and not look back and that I would find a spy and it was of the utmost importance that I stop them." My breaths were dire at this point knowing I was one syllable away from ending up skewered for someone's dinner.

"That bastard!" It came through there quite well and I knew for a fact it was a woman. Not that my pride couldn't take the hit, but I was a bit taken a back that a woman could wield the spear so well. "So he lies to me and sends out some chopped liver to keep me here?!" She took the spear out of my face and began to make her way back to the fire to put it out.

Things were moving too fast and I couldn't come to grips with the scenario as a whole. "Wait!" I called out after tearing some of my shirt beneath the leather armor and merely stuffing it over the wound. "Are you talking about Anwynn?! Why would he lie to both of us?!" She was headed right for Mista and I'd be damned if I was letting someone I didn't know put her in risk.

"Don't you use his name like you know it!" Her venom was caustic and aimed right for me as she began to undo the reins that I'd driven into the ground. "You know nothing of us! Of our people! You come in with your war machine and you ask of us all we have!" That was the first I'd heard of it and I must have looked shocked in awe.

"Slow down! What are you talking about? We came here because we were asked to! Protection!" There is a point in our lives where we are so ignorant to the truth that it's laugh worthy. So naive that we never even turn our gaze inward, or at the ones around us, as if we could be monsters. As if we could be wrong; but the way her eyes screamed like Anwynn's did, so full of pain, so full of sorrow that she couldn't even bare to laugh to my face. Instead her grueling contorted face did its very best to fight the tears welling at the surface.

"Protection?! Is THAT what they told you?!" She held the reins in her left hand and wiped her eyes with the right, her black cloth coming undone around the long dark hair. Her pale face in the moonlight was more visible and I could see the liquid running down her face as she looked upon me with looks like daggers. "You demand from us all that we have and more and when we can give no more... Protection." She spit on the ground and began walking with Mista beside her.

None of what she was saying made sense to me. The world was spinning and that pain in my arm was growing worse. She was beginning to pull ahead and was looking to mount the saddle when I turned and took a hold of her arm. "Look if you're going back there I need to go as well. I... I need to know for certain what's going on. We.. we're not that kind of people! You'll see!"

She jerked her arm out of reach and gave me a glare that could send my soul straight to the afterlife. "You get on behind me. If you fall I'm not turning back." I didn't have to speak anything to affirm the terms. I hopped on and took hold of the saddle in front of her. My people weren't barbarians I thought to myself. Father would not lie for such a thing. As the night's air brushed past us and we began to draw closer to the city, there was smoke in the air and the sky was not its midnight black; no it was bright and ablaze. We were coming from the south and I could recall the words in my head barely over the sound of my heart beating, violently in my chest. That's not the sunrise.
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Chapter IV: His Blood Cries Out To Me

We rode into the inferno for what felt like days. Her voice was no longer strong and sturdy as it had been back at that pocket oasis. Instead she was answering me as though her words were brittle, like her lungs after tasting the iron of the night's air. The thought crossed my mind of the distraction I'd made while leaving, there was no way that was possible, it couldn't have grown so large? But if not me who was to blame? Father spoke of the threat as though it were weeks away, we were the only force within days of travel. I felt the next swallow I made clump the whole way down into my bottomless stomach. I could not handle that thought and though we drew closer by every moment I could not shake it from my being. Ash began to fall from the sky around us like black snow and as it did I could not help but begin to feel the gravity of the situation; my people weren't as innocent as the histories taught us.

"Who is Anwynn to you?" My throat was coarse and every word felt like needles had been lacerating it. It hurt to speak and quite frankly as she responded I still do not know how I kept my balance.

"Don't you speak his name so non-chalantly! As if you have any idea the burdens that man has carried! For the sake of everyone else around him he's given everything!" I could not mistake her words for anything less, the way she painfully avoided giving me an answer mixed with the pain laced in every syllable. I didn't need the direct answer any longer but I wasn't much closer to understanding everything as a whole.

"Why is it none of you wield weapons yet you are so well versed with the spear?" I looked for anything to peel my mind from the encroaching possibility that everything she'd said so far was the truth. I was looking to each and every other direction than that which lay ahead of me. If it was the truth very soon it would be upon us and should we be faced with it, I didn't know how I might respond.

"We were not always so feeble. Our land was prosperous due to our trade but we were a proud nation. Many try to take what we have, the natural land is fertile within a sea of death, the Tree of Life has been here for far longer than us, our ancestors merely were the first to find it, that's all. You would think a band of Orcs might be the most fearsome thing this world has to offer, you'd be mistaken. The Greed of Men is the most fearsome thing this world has to offer. Many have come in the past and tried to take what was sacred for so long we fought, for so long we spilled blood for that which is rightfully ours." I could feel the venom curdling within her mouth, the way that there could be no closing that gaping wound in her heart and I suddenly felt so small, so very small in comparison.

"Not just men, but even you wretched elves too. You hold your noses up like you're the golden rays that we should all be blessed to simply live in proximity to! Hah!" Her vitriol felt misplaced and I wanted to speak up, I wanted to tell her that that wasn't me! I had never gone to lengths to harm a man or a woman! No, not all elves were this way! But I could not for that would not take this pain from her and I feared as we drew closer now, nothing would take away this engrossing shadow.

"Mother too had fought with such vigor that she put shame to the men on the battlefield. Never will the world see such a fierce fire in a heart or in those eyes." Her voice lost its footing and she began to choke on the words or the memories, I could not tell, as she grew further into the abyss of such sorrow.

"Once she fell father refused to fight any longer. He claimed that we would not resort to such a thing anymore. There are men willing to fight and die so that we would not have to. Just a price to pay, because money will spare the lives of the innocent!" That anger was resuscitated in no time at all. Her fury would arise once more from the ashes as we pulled into sight of horror. To this day, as I write this, I cannot shake that from my mind. The Tree of Life in its majesty distorting, hunched in an inferno. Littered from its branches were bodies strung and quartered like ornaments in the wind; a decrepit system of chimes that had me looking away, spewing acid and undigested food upon the earth.

"DON'T YOU DARE TURN AWAY!" like thunder her voice commanded me. I could not look at the city that had been so quiet, so peaceful just hours prior and she took a hold of my hair and forced me to look. Through my eyes on fire, welling and pooling with the burning salt I gasped for air. I did not want to see it and I did not want to admit it, to her, to myself or to even the wind of the night.

She hurried herself off Mista and took a hold of that spear looking like she was ready to die tonight, and I have zero doubts that she was. If it had all been true, she would not make it past the outerlying circle of camps. She would be killed on the spot.

"Father should have never trusted in your people! I warned him - I warned him of the greed and the gluttony that you all hide behind those faces, too pretty to be anything other than savages!" She looked at me with a face torn between such hatred, such livid hatred and such misery that I felt my heart cease to beat as her eyes remained upon me.

"You are all a cancer and so help me god if I will not claim every last one of your heads!" She turned her back to me ready to go to arms against every last soul present.

My hands were trembling now and I could not make sense of the world before me. Why? Why?! Why did they have to die? Why did we have to kill them? For what gain? What could not have been solved otherwise? I could see her silhouette against the massive flames and as she began to slip my sight I kicked Mista with the urgency I had never before. She had ridden all night and was weak now but she responded knowingly. As we came up just beside her, this unnamed girl, I swung once with my blade to the back of her head. She fell over motionless. I could not live with her blood on my hands too, knowing that her death would be in such vain. I hopped from Mista and picked her up before settling her into the saddle. She was out cold so I tied the reins around her hands and turned Mista in the direction we had come before swiftly striking her. Her cry filled me with more agony as they darted off in the direction of the moon, in the direction of that oasis where I knew Mista would take refuge. Down at my feet her spear lay and I picked it up before marching towards the flames.
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Chapter V: Bloodletting

Flames licked the air around my lungs and every breath felt like it was igniting them. Not twenty four hours prior was I walking atop these now blood slicked stones. Laughter and trade had been murmuring through the walkways and the lush scent of life flourished and I couldn't get it out of my nostrils. Green and blue had been all that the eye could see and in the center was the Tree of Life, an anomaly in the arid death that surrounded the city for miles in each direction.

As my steps brought me through the trenches of what remained of such a sanctuary, I could not bear the sights before me. A colossus of fire was all that remained of the beacon for any and all wandering those sandy expanses. Why? I could not free my mind from that solitary word. Within my right hand I held the foreign object, so dense to the touch I did not even know how one could wield it, let alone as fluid as she had. Each step felt like eternity when I was wading through the blood of so many. Women and children discarded into the river as though they were nothing more than fertilizer. I had to fight down the gagging urge to vomit as I walked through silent battalions and entered into the flaming spire.

Upon entering I came face to face with the truth, the honest truth which could not be avoided and could not be disregarded as anything other than that. Twenty elves stood surrounding that large man, his face was unmistakable, his hands behind his back as he kneeled on both knees, looking like cattle. A curved blade resided at his neck just under his chin. I could recognize it as my own two which I had given to the unnamed girl in exchange for her spear. Not without her approval, but they were relics of our forefathers.

"Stop! What are you doing?!" The armored men, elite forces all turned in unison with their blades drawn at me. All of them had lived lives over a hundred times mine and had liven through far fiercer sights than my eyes, as confused as they were.

"I am glad you returned for this T'alathian." A voice crept from the man I once knew as my father. He did not turn from Anwynn before him and I could feel my heart slip into the depths of my gut.

Those eyes that burned with passion turned to me now, with zero regard for his own life, the bald head framed by the thick facial hair looked too remorseful. "I told you not to turn around, boy. You are too young for this, this does not have to be your--" the slice of a blade took the remaining breaths from him and as his body collapsed over, the eyes remained on me. They say the brain retains most of its function for a few moments even after decapitation; burned into my retinas, even if I wanted to close my eyes I could not erase that moment from my mind. It was the moment I was baptized into the real world.

"What is this?" My voice held no constitution and barely made it past the dry of my mouth or my teeth. I stared into those eyes watching that light fade away. He died in a pool of his own blood within the embers of that which he sought to protect and for the life of me I could not understand why.

"This is what we do T'alathian. It is what my father did before me and what his did before him. We are warriors and we exceed at war." He cleaned the curved blade before sliding it back into its sheath by his side. Regarding me with a look I had never seen before, regal, disconnected as though I were on the other side of a trench from himself.

"Without war we cannot live the life we do. We cannot sustain the treaties that have helped us up until now. At one point Anwynn was a man of knowledge and he knew what power meant. I was a proud ally of his and I do not regret any moment of that but he was no more ignorant to this fact. He knew why we were coming and I had pleaded with him time and time again to not make this the reality it is." He spoke words with such a brittle chill I felt as though frostbite would come over my ears simply by hearing them.

"None of his people were armed..." My grip on the spear was fierce and the rage that filled my head formed as pools of salt and fire around my eyes.

"EVEN THE WOMEN AND THE CHILDREN?! DID THEY KNOW WHY WE WERE COMING?!" Unfathomable rage came over me as I stepped forward. My skull felt as though it might burst at any moment and as I took that one step I had nearly lost my own life as the elves took a grasp upon my arms, my shoulders and head and forced me to my knees.

"Watch your tongue boy. You may have the royal blood in your veins but you also abandoned us on this night. Do you know why I brought you along? I was no older than you when I followed my father, T'anuriel on my first conquest. It is balance T'alathian. We deliver the balance." He walked up to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. His touch was ice to me and he was my father no more. "We will be riding back in the morning get some sleep."
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Chapter VI: Winter's Bone

'Escorted' by the armored elves, I walked from the flaming remnants of a once proud beacon of hope in the eye of a storm. Reduced to a mighty blaze in the night it would eventually be nothing more than ash. I watched them take torches to the tree and then to the wildlife in each direction. Slow was the march towards the tent that had been set aside for me, it was within the circle of the rest which had guards stationed at each entry point of the circle, four being present around the rivers. Torches were lit at each one excluding mine.

I entered the tent and was left to my own devices from that moment on. A bed was provided, a meal set upon a silver platter, and a desk with an unlit candle and a journal. I sat down at the desk and did not bother to light the candle. My eyes were not fully adept within the dark but they did not have to be. No ink was required to scribe what I had in my mind, in my heart; I simply took the quill and pierced the pages as I dragged my hand, slowly, without any finesse.

Honor. I wrote the word out with my hand clenching the quill. It was sloppy and stabbing through the page near the end of the word.

Honor. It was below the first, slightly larger and the whole word was piercing through this page and the next.

Honor. Below that, it was visibly tearing the page at the halfway mark and left it barely attached to the binding.

Honor. I tore pages out of the book as I thrust the quill within them.

HONOR. I tore countless pages from the book. I threw them in a thrashing rage to the floor and I dismantled it from its binding before stabbing through the material with the quill, piercing the desk's surface so that it was one in the same.

I could hear his voice as the dusty wind brushed by while clutching that cloth to my face. What is honor, T'alathian? My hair was short of being torn from my scalp as I tackled the conundrum endlessly within my skull. They are a people of not war but love, for their people, their land and life... and they have never risen a hand to cause harm to others. I threw the desk from its legs and could not contain my breaths as they escaped me, frosty, visible fogs in the night's cold embrace. Honor is hearing the call of those who desperately need a hand to pull them from the darkness and not looking, not hesitating, but offering that hand. Upon my knees I fell with his words echoing in my mind. I tried to close my eyes but all I could see was Anwynn's face, looking at me from the pool of his blood. Why?! Why was he still looking at me?!

"I'm sorry!" I cried out, my throat on fire as I did. Each breath filled my lungs with icicles but every time the sobbing overcame that chill and filled it with fire once more.

"We were supposed to help you!" Thud, thud as my hands pounded the dirt. My forehead struck the earth and I could do nothing other than bleed the torment out in any shape that I could. What were we? How had we gone from being a ray of hope to harbingers of war? We never were there to help anyone except our own pockets and those that offered to fill them.

-------------------------------------

Silence ushered over the camp and distant hours ago the lights had all died from the circle of tents. Even past the night's shroud the guards had remained on duty until even they surrendered to sleep. A thick fog began to wash over the camp and engulfed it whole. Not even the moon's sacred face could wash over the thick blotted screen that was strong enough to prevent an elf's eyes from crossing from the circle to the center of the camp. A single silhouette crossed from the head of the camp through the ring and towards the single one in the center. No ears had been perked for the drawing of the blade, slow and meticulous, its gentle vibrato humming as it was gripped by the plated gauntlet. The flap of the tent as it flushed behind the form was lost in the chilling breath of the wind, its high pitched whistle removing the groans of the plate, so perfectly formed against its own rivets like continents atop a sea of magma, crushing into one another. Fingers lightly curled and tapped at the hilt of the curved blade; it was engraved upon its face and was ancient yet pristine. For millenia it had been relied upon by one elf then the next, it had known no reprieve from the blood it bathed in and tonight it would see more. To slay an elf is to kill a piece of a god, as killing humans is killing a piece of the earth herself. Killing Orcs, well that wasn't taught as much of a sin but even that could be traced to its creator.

Steady steps brought the armor to the side of the solitary bed which was in the center of the tent. Both gauntlets took a hold over the hilt of the blade now as it slowly rose, an executioner's guillotine in the night. Stalking, the form remained in that pose for quite some time.

"My son, the very day you were born the forests whispered the name T'alathian." Quiet were the frosted breaths that escaped the pale lips. A pair of eyes looked down on the bed with the head tilted ever so slightly. His hair a thick chestnut, his form 6'0 and his face one of such beauty it could not be mistaken for any other in the world.

"My child, I watched with pride as you grew into a weapon of righteousness." Gauntlets squeezed as the blade lingered within the air over the form. A long respite was echoed in the whispers of the wind.

"Remember our line has always ruled with wisdom and strength.." The grip readjusted once more, one final time as the elbows pointed at right angles, awaiting in the air. "And I know you will show restraint when exercising your great power.."

"But the truest victory my son is stirring the hearts of your people." The sound of the blade descending had a cry within the air. It pierced beneath the bedding and into the dirt beneath it. "I tell you this for when my days come to an end- you should have been king."

A flap from the front of the tent and the fog began to fill just above the earth. A momentary lapse in sound- a creak from above and those eyes would have gone wide, I'd imagine. Elves work best with blades for their nature, both the wielder and the weapon, are lithe more often than not and best fit within close quarter combat. A bow is a common talent to uphold since fighting at range is far less dangerous than within quarters with the lowest amount of risk. As the creak was audible he was no doubt attempting to draw his blade from the dirt and the bed. He succeeded well enough but as he drew it, vertical with his arms up as if time reversed, just as he had dropped it, it was already too late. A weapon not wielded commonly by elves was the lance. It is a heavy weapon with length at its side, but not fit for those who may be on the more lean side of the spectrum. A lance though is the antithesis to a sword. A sword only has one point that can do no cutting, the hilt. A lance only has one point that can pierce, its head. As I fell from the top of the tent I watched as the blade pierced through the gaps in the armor, just above the shoulders and through the collar down into the bed.

I did not know how badly it would hurt. I gasped for breath as though my own chest had been pierced. I watched as his hands fumbled the blade and reached behind, gripping at my wrists. I could not move but I began to cry, no the tears had been present already since he'd walked in. I began to cry out loud, a fierce and harsh noise that resembled a fox caught in a trap. I could hear him spit blood over the bed as his hands gripped my own and his voice came out, shaking terribly as his knees gave out below him.

"T'alathian" he coughed up further blood and struggled to turn his head. He succeeded enough that his right eye faced me, squinting barely able to cling to his life.

"I am sorry for failing you..." His grip loosened and he slipped in posture and slid along the lance until he was against the bed, motionless.

I burrowed my face into the armor for some time. I was unable to move as I sobbed with the cold metal against my face. Eventually I slowly drew the blade from his body and exited the flaps into the fog. A spell maybe had washed over the elves as they slept on their watch. It was a mistake they would make no more for I circled the encampment, tent by tent, and slit their throats in their sleep. Each of them would have the candles lit, the wax that was unique to Eun'Oloch and no doubt why we had gone to set fire to their lives. It would take time, but eventually those candles would seep into the tents and light the bodies ablaze, just as their people had been. I saved my tent for last as I returned and lit the candle. I took the provisions I would need to last as many fortnights as I presumed it would take to travel and bundled up, with that lance across my back. I was royalty no more. I had no home to return to. In the memory of those that had died, the peaceful lives of Eun'Oloch I would carry that burden upon my shoulders for the rest of my life. This would be my home. On this night I had learned what little honor meant. On this night I was born once more. I turned to face the Tree of Life, still smoldering as the face was falling to pieces upon the ancient bark. I would honor their memory, that would by my purpose.
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Post by Talathian »

((this is a cross post from here))

Promise: Reprise

I had long since discarded my honor. As I left the reliquary of tomes and the repository of words long past I could not help but beg the question of myself: what was this feeling within my chest? Why did it strangulate my heart and lungs so? My hands have long since bathed in the blood given by the gods, including my own blood and flesh, but as I exited into the street that night the weight upon my soul was unlike any I'd ever experienced. Staring at the wet cobblestone I could recite the letter I had received on the eve prior with ease:

For one who could leave such a bloody trail to be the head I have sought after for years, I could be none the wiser nor luckier to find you now, T'alathian son of T'anathiel. You remember that night well I presume, the night where you and your father burnt the Tree of Life to nothing more than ash in the wind. The night upon which you and your kin desecrated the fertile soil with the blood of innocents. Why you did not kill me when you had the chance I have spent many a moon trying to decipher. Was it pity? Was it you showing some sick form of mercy? The mere thought of mercy from the likes of you makes me wish to slit my own neck like livestock and hang upside down to bleed out. In two fortnights you will meet me at that very spot and I will finish what was started on that night so many moons ago. You may cower and run and continue to hide should you like but be wary T'alathian; the name Blood Lagoon is not a favored one in this day in age. You may be able to hide your face but you cannot hide all that is dear to you. Meet me on the soiled ground where even he has a shallow grave, one hollow without a body to claim. Come and be prepared to leave this world T'alathian for the crimes of your kin. - Anwynn

The named signed to the letter was unmistakable and it could only mean one thing. As I left the establishment with the weight of ten worlds upon myself I could only do my best to reassure myself this would be the first and potentially last time I would abandon my vows. Once and only once so that I may either set that ghost to rest, or it shall set me. As I stepped out I heard the familiar pair of hooves meet the cobblestone. Looking at me was my old friend, Mista. That was when I knew this could be no mistake. I took my seat upon her saddle once more and I began my journey to home. Eun'Oloch.
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