“Don’t lose control.” His heart was beating loud and clear and he was overcome with feelings of grief and anger as he writhed in agony on the ground. The same thing would happen after every demon he slew. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t suppress those emotions. As he was holding his hand over his heart, gasping for air, his vision was getting blurry and he felt dizzy. He heard slow footsteps towards him and when he looked, he saw a person with a face covered by shadows approaching him. The person had one arm and carried a rapier. He could feel his bloodlust with each step he got closer. He was getting inevitably closer and his mind was going blank with fear. The person raised his sole hand carrying the blade and smiled at him. The sword fell down upon him, stabbing him through his chest repeatedly as he yelled in pain. His heart was beating faster and faster and his body was getting terribly hot. His feelings of fear and anxiety were driving him mad and he stared in disbelief as the man who was thrusting his rapier into him was his younger self. His visage was young but he bore the same scars as he did. Even his once hazel eyes were somewhat white, symbolizing his partial blindness. No matter how much time passed or for how long he tried, he couldn’t forget the past and he couldn’t forgive himself. His regrets were mounting up with no end in sight.
While he had forgotten Liliana’s visage, Miria’s innocent gaze staring at him was embed in his memory forever. It was his daughter after all. Until that point he did not even know he had a daughter. She resembled his deceased sister when she was her age… another visage he had forgotten. His memory could only retain traumatic events, and not the faces of those he loved. It was pitiful. His pain eventually faded and his breathing went back to normal. He looked around but all color was gone, and only a few bright auras were the indicators that he could see the trees around him. He was still in the forest. Rylan would sometimes close his eyes, in the hope that he might awaken somewhere else, in a better world. When he opened his eyes again, he was always reminded of his task. He had to build himself that better world he hoped for; not only for himself but for all others deserving of a better fate. That thought gave him the strength to continue in his quest.
He stood up from the ground, all covered in fresh mud. He wiped off as much as he could and wandered through the forest in the hope of finding more demons to slay. Absorbed in his thoughts, he was brought to reality by a cracking sound underneath his foot. He moved away his leg and looked carefully. He sensed the dying aura of something… a snail. He was so careless and ignorant of his surroundings that he killed a small creature. To a commoner, a snail might seem insignificant but he hated taking lives unless necessary, even those of wild beasts and critters. Now that he no longer had his knapsack or his currency, he had to thrive on killing any beast appearing before him. And it would be that much crueler if he encountered anything but predators.
Rylan slapped himself across the cheek. He couldn’t be so considerate when his life depended on it. Killing animals was a natural process in the circle of life. Eventually he would also die and return to the earth, feeding the herbs which were then eaten by herbivores and the herbivores would be devoured by carnivores. He had to make the most out of life in every situation. That short meeting with Liliana and their daughter really softened him.
“If I would be careful for every insect I crush beneath my feet as I walk, I would be better off dead.” He thought as he took a deep breath and continued his travel stealthier, prowling through the bushes in search of a wild beast. Despite of the muddy ground, his steps had to be heavy and steady so that he wouldn’t slip and fall. What he relied on was a burst of speed which would close the distance between him and his prey, if he ever found one. His wet hair was falling over his face impeding his vision and he had to move it away with the back of his hand.
Somewhere in the distance, hooves trampled the mud. It was a lone elk, large and majestic. Rylan slowed down his breathing and observed its luminous aura. The beast seemed to not have noticed him and so he stealthily continued to approach it. He reached right behind the closest tree to the elk, readying his sword. Suddenly, the elk ran away into the woods and he perceived a noise farther to his left. Something was moving around through the bushes. He charged as fast as he could and leapt right towards the source of the sound, swinging down his sword. The edge stopped right above the shoulder of a human.
“Oi, you got me scared shitless there, mate.” The man fell on the ground, patting his chest and breathing heavily.
“What were you doing here? You scared the beast I was hunting.”
“’M sorry, was taking a crap. You don’t look like a hunter, nor have I seen ye’ around these parts. Are you a warrior?” The man pulled up his pants and stood up, shaking off the mud from his clothes. “You look pretty rough to be a noble.” He continued, furrowing his brows.
“It is none of your concern. Can you show me to your village? I am looking for work.” Rylan put away his executioner sword seeing as the peasant was looking at him with a concerned figure.
“I’m livin’ with my lord Mandrake in his keep. He be looking for a strong warrior I heard. Follow me.”
The two wandered the forest for a while and Rylan’s stomach was growling. He was neither embarrassed nor ashamed because it was the peasant’s fault for scaring away the elk. Eventually, over on a small hill was the profile of a fortified keep, large enough to sustain a family and a few others. Outside of it was a pen for the few sheep they had and a small stone church. Two other peasants were just returning with hoes in their hands, wet with sweat and rain. He sketched a smile, remembering the time when he assisted his father with labor on the field. The one guiding him greeted the other two and the four of them entered the keep.
The first chamber was a mess hall and the sleeping quarters for the servants. There were two large tabled with rows of seats and on the sides were five retractable beds. At the other end of the room were two doors, one which slowly opened revealing two figures. One was a man with grey hair and a modestly long beard of the same color and his companion was a young woman, possibly younger than Rylan. The three peasants scattered away and the lord approached him cautiously, inspecting Rylan thoroughly.
“Lord Mandrake I assume?” Rylan bowed his head slightly and extended his arm. Compared to the lord’s fancy, colorful attire he was dressed in rugged clothing. Mandrake hesitated at first but decided to shake his hand.
“Indeed, you may call me Lord Drake. Who are you and what is it you wish?”
“I heard you were looking for a strong arm and I happen to be a swordsman who goes by the name of Rylan.” He didn’t care much for formalities or modesty as long as he got his point across.
“Ah yes, I have heard of your deeds. You’re well known around these parts, as a man who bests demon after demon. And that just so happens to be my request of you. There have been these sons of demons, tormenting me and my men. They keep assailing my keep, craving for my wife to be.” The lord put his arm around the young girl’s shoulders, pulling her closer to him. As much as the sight disgusted Rylan, he tried to ignore the revolting feeling. Her eyes on the other hand were really sincere and he could see the pain and fear she was going through.
“Do you want me to cut them down?” His gaze moved back towards the lord who was indulging too much on the presence of the young girl.
“Ah… that would be ideal-”
Rylan cut him off.
“As for payment and where can I find them?” He had no respect for the libidinous geezer. Drake looked at him with a sulky expression and answered in a low voice.
“You’ll stay here until they return. As for payment, you’ll share meals with my servants and if you kill all of the assailants I’ll give you three silver eris.” The sum fell short of his expectations but at least he had a place to rest and his meals assured. He nodded to Lord Drake and went back outside into the rain. After striking the deal with him, he felt a sense of guilt. Why was the girl portraying such a distressed expression? He could feel a cold gaze stare at h
im from a window. Rylan took deep breaths and tried to clear his mind. There was something unusual going on but he couldn’t tell what it was. He drew his sword and started practicing swings. He was so preoccupied that his arms seemed powerless in wielding the sword properly. He was just waving around a slab of metal without meaning. For what purpose was he still wielding a sword? What if the world didn’t deserve salvation? From Anvalth’s past he could tell that not even those who preach for goodness are true to their words.
As he stood with the sword forward slightly tilted towards the ground, the visage of a man appeared in his mind.
“Our vision is too clouded by hate or grief to see the true beauty of this world…” He whispered Élerion’s words with a lack of passion. “What beauty could you see in this wretched existence? How could I forgive myself after all these horrible acts? How can I swing my sword against evil when my alignment is wavering like a reed in the wind?” He raised his sword one more time above his head and swung down with vicious fury. All his anger was directed towards himself. He sighed and strapped back his sword, looking around at the faint aura of the sheep. “My sight was reversed all this time and I didn’t even bother to realize.” From beneath his belt he pulled out a tattered piece of black cloth and held it in his gripped fist, smiling. An idea suddenly popped into his mind. Was there a way for him to reach the threshold between the two sights? How did the idea never occur to him before? The newly discovered goal brought him some hope for the future and he continued the training but on the inside. It was his mind that was lacking, not his strength. The rain falling upon his shoulders was both a distraction and a means to overcome his limitation. He had to be furious like a storm yet serene like a sunny day. He pictured in his mind an image of the sun being enveloped in a tornado, only to turn it into a whirlwind of fire. He had to be that ravaging storm.
The rest of the day passed in the blink of an eye and he returned to the keep, drenched by the rain. Inside, he could hear the busy come and go of servants and their luminous auras working diligently. The smell of food was quite appeasing and the hunger that’s been bothering him all day rose back to the surface. He searched for an empty seat and found a spot on the bench right next to the peasant who brought him in. Without even the care for manners, like a wild animal guided by smell, he grabbed a large, succulent chicken breast and devoured it in a matter of minutes. He felt a slight nudge in his side.
“You should try the taters and lettuce as well.” The voice was coming from his right. Rylan listened to his advice and enjoyed a feast like no other. It had been weeks since he’d eaten so consistently. Afterwards, he went along with a maid in the servant’s quarters were there was a bed reserved for guests. It was slightly unsettling for him to sleep among so many strangers but he fell asleep as soon as he went in bed.
He dreamt of a meadow in the heart of a forest. He was standing in the center of the clearing and was surrounded by people talking amongst themselves. Rylan could barely overhear their talk and they were all speaking ill of him. It took him a while to recognize their faces. His sister, Tarna along with all the mercenaries, Rilwen and her squad, the barmaid from Waden and even his wife and daughter; they were all gathered there. Their gazes pierced into his soul and he felt insurmountable guilt and fear. They all fell victim to his foolishness; his hands were stained with the blood and tears of so many. He couldn’t bear the sight so he fell to his knees, covering his face with his palms. There was something cold dripping from his hands and when he looked at them again the blood was there. A heavy hand fell on his shoulder and when he looked up with his eyes partially covered in the fresh blood, he saw a towering person. The sun was casting its light directly from above and he couldn’t see his face, but there was no doubt as to who it was.
“I am nothing more than a wild beast.” The words came out of his mouth as a whisper, finding it hard to speak.
“You are oblivious to the world around because you let them impede your vision. This spiral of death and suffering which you are descending on is nothing more than a memory. Once you forgive yourself, you will be liberated from all bonds and your heart and sword will be true.”
“My vision, sword and sight…” These three words stuck out to him. He managed to get a grasp on them. Peace of mind was the key to everything but he couldn’t be at peace as long as his mind was intoxicated with dark thoughts.
“Do you know what binds us all? Our collective fear of evil and its power against us. So rise up and face your demons!” shouted Élerion who’s face seemed younger and brighter than he remembered. His body fall apart and turned to a beautiful whirl of white petals, drifting away in the wind. Standing before him was a man clad in black. The verdant meadow collapsed and was engulfed into a sea of darkness. The brilliant sun with its warm, gentle rays turned into a cold, distant moon. As far as his eyes could reach, there was nothing but void.
Rylan felt exhausted as if he had been running up to that moment. He had finally reached the point towards which he was running. He wasn’t fleeing from his fear but he wished to confront it all this time. He was afraid of himself; that is why he couldn’t forgive his own actions. The two charged at each other, one more fearsome than the other. Rylan swung his sword at Anvalth who dodged out of the way and stabbed him with the rapier of his friend Tarna in the rib. With a large motion he directed his attack at the head of his opponent who ducked down, only to be kicked viciously onto the ground. He continued to movement of his sword upwards and then into a descending strike. The blow split Anvalth in two, who turned into mist. Did he win? From the ground emerged countless hands which grasped his legs and pulled him down. Upon taking another look, he was standing on the corpses of all he had known. There was no solace or rest for Rylan.
He woke up sweating and with a terrible headache. He rubbed his eyes and tried to look around but his vision was blurry and distorted. He could perceive some colors and shapes but also luminous auras, blinding him. It was so painful to bear that he had to close his eyes. With great caution, he stood up from the bed by feeling around and slowly walked towards where he knew the door was.
“Is everything ‘ait?” The one talking to him was a woman. He turned around towards were the voice was coming from and tried to open his eyes slowly. Everything was still foggy and it hurt his eyes. He could see the glowing outline of a person approaching him. A hand reached for his arm but he slapped it away.
“Don’t touch me.” He shouted, panting and sweating. He was really distressed and the last thing he needed was the involvement of some stranger. He reached for the door knob, and walked out the room into the main hall. Inside there was quite the fuss as people were getting ready for breakfast. He tried letting only a sliver of light through his eye lids and wandered like a mad man towards the door, hitting against tables and benches until he finally managed to get out of the keep. Outside was still raining, but it was less intense than the other day. The small refreshing droplets falling over him were quite refreshing and calming.
For the third time he opened his eyes but this time something was different. He could almost feel the mana swarming in the air and flowing through the grass beneath his feet. He could see the color of trees and even the sheep and their pen. He could even describe accurately the entirety of the small church. He took a deep breath in and felt overcome with an inexplicable joy like he’d never felt. He missed being able to see the world around him in all its beauty. It was rather misty so early in the morning, especially since they were in a mountain area. He strolled around with his bare feet over the wet grass and decided to reach for his sword in order to train. His heart skipped a beat when he couldn’t find it, but he swiftly remembered he forgot it inside the keep. He looked around on the ground and discovered a pretty long and thick twig. He flourished it around with his one hand. His movements were so gracious and precise that he looked as if he was dancing with the branch in hand. Each and every swing was so rapid and accurate that he intentionally cut raindrops falling down. Rylan fe
lt as if he was in his prime… as if a weight was lifted off his shoulders.
“The past is past me and the future is unreachable, so all I have is the moment I live in now.” He thought, brandishing the twig as if it were the deadliest of swords. He was really smiling and excited for the new day that had just begun. Rylan tilted back his head and gazed at the clouded sky as the rain was streaming down his face. He closed his eyes and spread his arm to the side, taking a deep breath of that mountain air. He was struck with a sense of nostalgia as he remembered his days back in Bavey. He would work hard along his father on the field at they would return at home at dusk, where his mother and sister were waiting. The memory was swallowed by mist and Tarna’s face was suddenly smiling at him. They were together and they were laughing, passing the tedious hardships of war. He was in all a great man and a hero to him. He was suddenly pulled away from him and the night had fallen upon his memory. He was surrounded by cheerful people enjoying themselves. He felt lonely and depressed but there was a gentle, caring girl who comforted his sadness. Rilwen had a big heart, too pure for the cruel world out there. Time seemed to skip past him and it was dawn again, but the sky was covered in fearsome, grey clouds roaring with thunders and rain. He felt a passionate excitement as he was swinging his rapier and his heart pumped in his chest with pride for he fought for his comrades and for the sake of a better world. The sword turned into colorful butterflies swarming around his hand and then flying away. There was an eerie aura in the forest in which he stood and the large mansion was proof that his friend and mentor lived there. He clutched the necklace in his palm and felt calming warmth.
His day dreaming was interrupted by the gallop of horses approaching him. He felt a strong sense of hatred coming from their direction. When Rylan wanted to draw his sword, he was reminded that it was not on his person. He did not panic and instead ran back towards the keep. One of the peasants was just walking out and he had to shove him out of his way in order to rush inside.
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