A Drifter's Hymn

Chapter One: Emptiness Overwhelming

Must I cry in the dark, though the sunavoids my eyes?

Is there no one there to hear my pleading cries?

Are you all against me, though I save your lives?

Are you all with me, though I remain and thrive?

You hunt me like a monster.

You pity me like a hound.

But who is the true terror

When no one is around

To save you from death

Though I be near.

You shed not a tear

To me, your savior.

You name me a monster.

So as I save you

Who will save me?

That hymn has haunted my mind for years, the hymn of my long forgotten past. Who am I but a walking dead? Or am I walking? Movement is not seen by the step of your feet, but the passing of your life. How then can I move if I do not sleep, do not cry, do not feel? You all see me as another dead, having lost his movement of life. Everyone loses movement after life, but not all lose movement through a second life. I have no end, only a beginning and an everlasting middle. If so many fall, then why must I continue to stand? Am I but an exception, one who has escaped time, escaped from moving?

No matter what the movement of my life be, as long as I am dead, you see me as dead. But I am not dead. I am undead. Reborn into a dark world with dark purposes. But I am born without purpose. Are even those born without purpose doomed to walk this earthfor eternity? I suppose so, for I am one. A drifter, a lifeless being without meaning or purpose. No one wishes my existence, not even those like me. I am an exile, another obstacle for all others to destroy. I do no wrong. I do no good. So why am I marked a dead man?

Some speak of faith and honor. Some speak of pride and glory. Some even speak of torment and darkness. But what is my say in this place? As an enemy of the world and a heretic of my people, where am I to go? Where am I to say? Am I so hated that I was born of this earth only to be hated? To all I am nameless, a bastard not meant to be born in this world. But I do go by a name. To keep myself from doing the work of my enemies for them, I have given myself a name. None know of this name because none know anything of me. They only know of me as an enemy. If only they would call me by name, instead of monster or abomination, for I do have a name, a name that represents who I am to the world and to my empty self...

...I am Exile...

The sky was dark and my existence darker still. The trees were burnt in color but were only corrupt in nature. The wind passing through my armor and face was unusual compared to where I am from. Or at least where I think I am from. Beasts of large size plagued the land, attacking any who trespass them, even those of their own kind. All people pause upon my arrival on the scene, staring menacingly at my appearance. And who would blame them? A walking dead does not belong in a place of the living. Soon I reached a place of rest for myself,perhaps a place to finally call home. But the chances were slim. Who would invite a person such as I into their home? Perhaps I may never know.

A small ball crossed my path. I knelt down to pick it up, my armor scrapping against itself as it usual does with each movement I make. I held the ball in my grasp, wondering of its origin or its purpose. A small, night elf boy ran up to me and clapped as he saw the ball in my hand. He pointed to it, asking for it back and calling me 'Mister'. I gave the ball back to the young child, but another night elf appeared before me. She held onto the boy like the boy held onto the ball and screamed at me furiously.

"Stay away from my baby you monster!" she shouted.

All others around us glared at my presence, hate delved in their eyes. A small number of them drew their secreted weapons while others fled the scene in terror. I had only given the boy his ball back, what wrong had I committed? But I had a feeling they were not ready to kill me for what I had done but for who I was. I was one of the undead, yet I was their enemy.

"You've got a lot of nerve coming here, undead!" growled a night elf as he drew his dagger. "We'll make sure you never see the light of day again."

The light. What is light? Is it but a ray of sun or a revealing of the truth? I knew not of truth nor sun, for my world was bleak and darkened by hate and malice toward me. A hate that I did not deserve.

"Feel free to kill him." said a human among the many night elves. "The one who kills him can have his head as a trophy!"

After the entire group agreed they all snickered at me. Their minds must have been plagued with thoughts of my demise. Such hate toward me must have been well earned by my forsaking brethren though I did not deserve such a punishment. My crimes are none but my enemies many.

They all came at me, their daggers and swords at the ready. The first few that made their way to me first were unsuccessful in striking me once, for I had moved back one step as to avoid their attack. All others that attacked could not touch me either, for by then I drew my sword and had parried every blow. Their movement seemed so slow. It was like stopping a turtle from running. But I did not speak a word the whole fight, neither did I strike any of them down.

Each parry and dodge I made was easier and easier, for their endurance was not so great. They spoke of killing me and beheading me, but they were simply wearing themselves out. Finally a human mage stepped forward. His hands were grasping fire, a feat only done by spell casters. He fired his fireball and I dodged. Apparently he was no match for my speed. But to my dismay, he was also had a lousy aim. The second attack that I dodged meant that a fireball made a hit upon a beam that held up a small, stone tent. And hiding under that tent was the young boy and his ball. He noticed the tent's fall and cried in fear.

I do not know why, but I felt something inside me tell me to save that boy. I should have let him die in their, but for some reason I could not let that happen. Running to the boy, I shielded his body with my own. Rubble fell on my armor but I received no damage. But we were not there long, for my bracers and eyes glowed hellish red.

"No! Not again!" I screamed as my hand raised itself against my own will. Scarlet lightning shot from my hands and made a portal that showed a dark,
desolate place, devoid of light and hope. I held the boy close, for I knew what was to come.

"Young one, hold tight." I said, hoping he would not run and be doomed like everyone else.

But to my surprise he held on. My entire body glowed crimson red and heat pulsed through me body. I felt a great, colder pulse in my body, and then nothing. I felt myself floating in darkness. I felt more empty than I have felt in a long time. This always happened when I was in danger of death. I did not wish for any of this to happen. It was all against my will, like everything else of this world.

Then when I felt there was no hope for me anymore, I felt something I had never felt before. I felt my heart beat. I felt my breath enter my body. Though I had never felt these wondrous things, I had a feeling I knew what they were.

Then I felt myself loose my breath, and I my ceased to beat. Those wonderful feelings left me, once again darkening my world. I did not feel the presence of the boy. I thought of what could have happened to him if he had remained in that town. It was truly horrible to think of such a thing. But I had no time to think long, for I felt myself pulled to a red light, a way out of this emptiness. This was the final stage of this event, but where I would go I never knew. Perhaps I would land in the home of my brethren where I would be executed. Or maybe I would end up in another nation's land, also doomed to the same fate. Or maybe, if I am lucky enough, I would appear in a place remote from all others, a place to remain at peace. With these thoughts I entered the new portal, traveling in an instant to wherever fate would lead me.