Faith and Expectations
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"I want to know why you fight." He watched her with shadowed eyes and did not respond. "Is it for glory?" she pressed. "For power? Or for loyalty? …Is it for hate or love or vengeance? Why?" He tilted his head just slightly and examined her dispassionately, apparently deciding her worthy of an answer. Barely.
"I fight because they expect me to," he shrugged nonchalantly in response to her incredulous stare. "Every witch and wizard in the world, from the youngest to the eldest, believes without doubt that I will fight for them and win. Or die trying. What is the will of one man in the face of the absolute faith of a million people?"
He observed her horrified incomprehension with a sort of apathetic amusement, "Did you think me some sort of hero, child? Did you think I fought for the good of all, for love and freedom and the Light?" He snorted sardonically, the most emotion he'd expressed all evening, "Light and Dark are the things of fairytales. Not reality. I fight because there is nothing else for me. Because one man cannot possibly have the strength to stand alone against his entire world. If anything, I fight in the vain hope that once I've done my duty I will be allowed to live in peace…such fantasy is the only indulgence I allow myself at this point."
He looked at her then and she realized his green, green eyes were seeing far past her. She might as well have been a ghost. Without another word, he meandered off down the stone halls, one hand in his robe pocket as the other absently twirled his wand over and under his fingers. His parting murmur echoed back to her…
"Goodnight, child. May your night be dark and dreamless."
She shuddered and strode hurriedly back to her dorm, slipping quietly into bed. She was asleep before her head touched the pillow, waking to only a vague memory of glassy green eyes and the force of Expectations.
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Published December 11, 2009
Edited October 10, 2010