Hey. This is kind of an older piece, written during the end of volume 8, beginning of 9. Its kind of an internal monologue. I tried to keep Gutts as in character as possible so I'm sorry if he seems OOC. Enjoy!


Since I could remember, all I knew was death. From the day I was born up until now and until the day I die, death is a part of who I am. I was found in a corpse, and I wonder still if that was a foreshadowing of my life, or merely one of life's cruelly ironic moments. Perhaps it was a mix of the two, an ironic situation that unknowingly foreshadowed my destiny. Yes, that seems right.

Years have passed since the sword called to me and I responded to it. As someone once said, I am happy only when swinging my sword. At times I think she was right. In the heat of battle, my sword is all I need. I do not think of ways to kill my opponents, how I should hold my sword, what areas I should protect, or the strategies I should use. Those never matter to me on the battlefield. Nothing matters to me but the sword in my hand as it sings a never-ending song of death.

Even when I was forced to join the Band of the Hawk, I only felt truly at home in battle. Maybe, because it has been the only sure thing in my life. They tried to make me fit in, to feel comfortable but they ultimately failed. I'd learned how to determine the life of a war based on armies, generals, and skills so I knew that it would last longer than I was accustomed to but I stayed anyway. There are times I think that this was a mistake.

There was a woman soldier, powerful and determined, who was loyal to a fault. She challenged me when I killed one of her men and she caught my interest. Three years I spent in her company among the Band of the Hawk. For a time, she bore a jealous hate towards me. And yet I sought her approval, or at least her attention, charging into battle and destroying all the enemies in my path. Only later would she accept me as a… friend, an unfamiliar word for one such as me. We understood each other, or rather I understood her.

I hadn't planned on staying as long as I had but a part of me could not leave her. Until I found that she loved him, Griffith. So I planned my leaving, not considering some of the soldiers who had considered me as their friend. Only one understood me, perhaps too well, and left me with questions I wish he had never asked because I realized just how much that woman meant to me. I almost decided to stay. Almost. She summoned Griffith to stop me. She relied on him to solve her problems while he saw her as a pawn in his schemes.

I had to leave. So I fought Griffith and won, not once looking back. I heard the woman call my name only one time. She never ran after me, like I foolishly wanted. Instead, she stayed with a man who would never love her or appreciate her. But maybe, that was a good thing. At least he could provide for her as his soldier while there was nothing for me to give.

For one such as me, love is a stranger and happy endings are myths. I was and am a man born of death. The battlefield is my home, where blood and death greet me as friends. Only when I am swinging my sword am I happy… Or so a woman once told me.