Chapter 4- Another drink
Phil and BC went for a drink at the new bar, while Carrie
went to the blacksmith to get her equipment repaired. They assumed that the
paladin had met his group of holy knights and left.
The bar was loud with conversation. A man sat in the corner,
drumming away on the guitar strings. The tune was familiar to the wanderers,
and Phil stopped in his tracks to concentrate and listen to the sorrowful
music.
The painful memories in his mind were given breath again.
These were the faint but twisted images of a lonely orphan, being raised as a
paladin in the strictest school of the Zakarum. Pictures of him being betrayed
by his most trusted friends that he had called family, and memories of being
almost killed by the most inspiring and respected person in his life, his great
mentor.
Oh yes, the memories came back, like the howling wind,
taking away a little of his sanely every time it came by. After fleeing his
home and losing his friends to the forces of the dark, he had sworn never to
channel the energies of the light ever again. After having his first taste of
the bitterness of betrayal, his confusion evolved into rage and loneliness. He
learned to harness his energies from all the darkness and horror that he had
been taught to fight.
But one day, he met Carrie, and part of his rage was
devoured by love. Through the decades they had spent together, they fought side
by side, and always for the goodness of the world.
Now, any stranger would shiver at the sight of Phil. No-one,
except for his two friends, knew the agony that hid beneath the dark cloak. Or
the muscular might, fueled by forever rage that separated him from other weak
and pale necromancers. Ironically, everyone would have respected the righteous
paladin blood which runs through his being, if only they knew.
The price of honour for defeating Diablo and Mephisto was
not cheap. The terror that had followed in every step of the pursue was not
meant for an average warrior's mind, including the mind of the
"failure", who had himself deep in Diablo's control. But for
Philiphos, it was quite different.
He had total understanding of the meaning of life and death.
Because of this, he wasn't afraid of death when it comes to take him away.
And what about the horror that had trailed him and had
watched him behind his back during his great journey? He hadn't learned to
ignore it, because that was only a temporarily solution. He had learned to...
embrace it.
--
Woo! An update! I appreciate the replies, but I hadn't
checked my mail for a long time, so sorry if I updated a bit late. If you are
still with this story, reply and review!!!