A/N: Written for Legendland at LJ, fic prompt ghosts.
Two years ago, if someone had walked up to Richard and accused him of murder, he would have told them he was incapable of taking another person's life—and he would have had the support of all those who knew him. In Hartland, he was a woods guide, a quiet, gentle man who watched out for his friends and would never hesitate to stop and help where he saw a need.
Now, he killed out of need. He had lost count of the lives he had taken in his quest. A simple man who desired peace and despised anger, now recreated into the Seeker. Richard Cypher—Richard Rahl. A man who wanted to see an end to all the killing, but who had been accused of serving the Keeper more than any other.
He killed so that innocents could have a chance at the quiet, happy life that had been denied to him. He was still the same man, though he knew there were some who would not believe it. All you had to do was ask Cara, and she would have been happy to list the many occasions when he had been distracted from his quest for the Stone of Tears by some hapless villager in need of assistance.
It was a paradox. Like thunder and lightning sitting in peace at the same table. But that was what it was to be the Seeker.
The spirits of the Seekers before him fought alongside him. He felt them when he drew his blade. Ghosts of the past, ever present companions in his dance with death.
His grandfather, the first wizard, had not wished the life of the Seeker upon him. Zedd would have kept him locked away, safe in Hartland if not for the threat of Darken Rahl and D'Hara.
Richard had not chosen to become the Seeker—he was the Seeker, choice or no choice. It was his calling to walk the fine line of control between blind rage and righteous wrath. For he was the Bringer of Death, the true Seeker—master of the Sword of Truth.