Scythe stood at the top of the hill, looking down over Brightwood. the tree's resembling the tall monumnts of the Old Kingdom, for a moment, Scythe went back to those days, to a different time. he woke himself from his daydream.
It was a different time from the old kingdom. He almost smiled at how long he had lived, all the things he'd witnessed, the terrible acts he'd seen. but then he thought about all the kindness, he'd seen, about the hope that the world could change, none more apparent then when the Hero of Oakvale threw Jack of Blades mask into the magma that surrounded Archons Folly.
He continued to watch the forest for a while, he saw rabbits and deer run around. The forest seemed so peaceful, Scythe was almost at peace.
but, as always, the peace didn't last.
There was a shrill scream coming not to far from where Scythe stood, he could faintly hear gun shots as well. He teleported to where the noise came from. He stood in a small outcrop of tree's, now he could hear the fight.
He looked to where the sound generated from, there was over 20 bandits standing in a circle, watching as 2 highway men fought someone.
Scythe looked closer, there was a dead highway, he looked closer at who they were trying to kill, she fought as if Jack was in her now, blocking, counter attacking, dodging, but she was tiring fast. Scythe looked closer at her, she reminded him of the Hero, but he couldn't be sure.
...
Sparrow blocked the highway man behind her, kicking the one in front, while he was reeling, she drew her pistol and shot him, hitting his chest, where his heart was. He looked at Sparrow for a second, before collapsing in a pile of flesh. She continued the fight with the other highway man, turning to fight him, if she continued to lose energy like this, she wouldn't stand a chance against the bandits.
She needed help.
...
After what he just saw, Scythe was convinsed, even if she wasn't his descendant, she was a hero, and she needed his help, he drew the long scythe strapped to his back, admiring the weapon for a second, it's handle was Ebony, more solid than stone the blade was gold, tinged with silver for balverines, it was sharp enough to cut a droplet of water in two.
He began to walk out, confident that 20 bandits would test him, even if only a small amount. after all, it had been a while since he'd fought anyone.
Dispite himself he smiled.