writing_shadows

Fate has a wry sense of humour.

I silently watched him arm, his man carefully buckling his armour in place. I thought perhaps I should act now, remove the threat. Silently I curse, guilt already rising within me. He challenged me, though I don’t play by his rules. Winter isn’t Summer, I laugh silently and without humour. I don’t see a need to fight him and prove my worth. He might bluster and rage, I just don’t care... he can’t do anything to hurt me, not anymore.

I stalk forward, pausing as I listen to him rant, his eyes shining with insanity. I hear his plan, inwardly groaning at the destructive madness of it all. Life isn’t a game not with these stakes. The mists of the future already show Sally dead the first victim from this man of Summer. I frown as think, my mind racing as I slowly inch closer. Another life? I would give my own if I thought it would help whatever good that could ever do? My hand drops down to my knife forlornly I accept the responsibility.

I stop, the gleam of a knife followed by a line of red as the tender skin of his neck is torn asunder. I move quickly, for once surprised at the sight before me. I allow my smoke to fade, revealing myself standing before the dying general his man still with the bloody knife in hand that stole his own commanders life.

My eyes are drawn to the dying Generals, I see nothing but madness, his last dying hope crumbling as the light dies within his orbs. I look up as his body slumps to the floor my eyes meeting the look of his second in command and murderer. I don’t go for my weapons, hoping that death has already had its quota. The silence lengthens. I speak first... not asking why, I saw and heard why. I ask what next? He speaks of war amongst his people, that they will tear themselves apart picking sides, their companionship ending in blood.

Simple solution I think, Lord knows I deserve it. We make a deal, I give them something to hate, a direction to fight without their fellowship falling into blood and death. I walk away steeling myself to what will come. I know now that no more of them will die due to the General’s folly. At first the words stick in my throat. I see the look of hatred and rage, I wonder if they will go for me, I wonder if they will claim my life. The threats come, that Summer will come for me brilliant in its shining glory.

Come, I think; for I haven’t got anything to lose. Perhaps they will grant me some peace at last.

Death isn’t something to be feared. Sooner or later its cold embrace will be felt, no matter where you will run or hide. I do wonder what will happen when it comes for me, my instinct tells me I am damned. My place in Hell well earned over and over.

My faith long ago withered and died; now only living in dreams and memories.