Dark
Disclaimer: I don't own the Wheel of Time
I am going to die.
Today or tomorrow, but sometime soon, the days whirl until they are the same...
And I am alone. Never in my life have I been alone.
ah, the blood runs so freely now, in long rivulets, showing no signs of halting, the arrow still standing straight...
I am going to die.
I don't know why I'm here...alone...there should be others, here, we were all together...
Where are they? Why am I alone, now, when I'm dying?
Unless they're dead too?
Probably.
Ah, light, I'm going to die.
Its dawn now. Death never seemed so frightening. Burn everyone that says the fear lessens. Now, teetering on the edge, I would gladly live my life as a slave rather than topple over.
Please don't let me fall. Please.
Saidar is so far away. I've drawn my last of it, I know, I can barely breathe let alone touch it. I wish I hadn't used it like that, though, used it as a weapon...
So many regrets and no time to correct them. No time to say sorry. No time to repent. The Creator will forgive those who repent, so its said. I have no time, and regret is only nipping at me because I feel life seeping from me, like water between my fingers...
So the Father of Lies deserves his name. Lies, all of it, all his promises, all of his words, all lies.
What I would give to turn back to the Light. What I would give to remake decisions that can never be remade.
There's someone here. Moving on the edge of my now darkening vision, coming closer.
It's Nersine. Nersine, who loved me, who danced naked for me, who lay abed with me for hours at a time. Ah Light how I love her.
She doesn't say anything. Just looks down, eyes staring through me as if she doesn't quite see me. She thinks I'm dead. I almost think myself dead.
My lips don't move, even as I try to force them.
She says something over her shoulder to her Warder, Garvin, who shot the bow whose arrow now rested in my side.
No, don't go, please do go, don't leave me alone.
But the words never come to my lips and she never hears them.
I'm going cold. I'm going to die with my eyes open. I don't like that. A foolish childhood story comes back to me, with unsettling clarity in a dying mind. People who die with their eyes open have their soul eaten by the Dark One. I wonder if he actually eats souls, if he has a certain taste.
Had I been able to move, my lips would have tweaked in a smile. But they don't and I grow colder.
And now its getting dark. How queer. It was dawn a moment ago.
And my bones are heavy, though I'm resting.
Ah, please don't let the Dark One eat my soul.
The End
