The Brink

It was already the first light of day before I realized I'd marched through the night. The soft orange hues from above were dull and barely noticeable through the tree lines. Just how long had I been moving? I didn't feel like I'd been walking that long, yet here was a new day, with not a minute of rest before. Slowly, my senses returned to me as I realized what had happened. The path I was taking was much more direct than the one I had taken with Deborah and Stone, I didn't much care if Blackstone found me after all. Blood would be spilt regardless, what did it matter if it was now or later?

It was still immensely cold, though not to an unbearable standard. Nor was the winding, familiar looking path that made me feel like I was marching into infinity feel unbearable. I had faced that many times, I knew that a destination lay beyond it. Instead, what drove a spike into my mind was the silence. Save for an occasional cracking branch or squealing rodent, there was no sound in this forest, and it was maddening. Strange, I thought. I had only traveled with companions for a little more than a week, and that had been enough to vilify the absence of sound.

"It's better this way… I'm moving faster." I tried to tell myself. Indeed, my pace had been much quicker since I had set off. Even traveling alone with Deborah, my traveling had slowed. With less mouths to feed and less souls to worry for, I was faster, could march longer, and could press on even in the face of exhaustion. How much longer would this trek have taken with my companions? Twice as long, considering Deborah's injury? No, it was better this way, it had to be.

The path ahead still seemed to go on forever, and my legs began to burn with aches and pain. I suddenly felt tired, very tired. The long trip had begun to catch up to me, and I again wondered just how long I had been going. But I couldn't rest, Blackstone was days ahead of me, and even at their slower pace, I couldn't afford to waste time. Still, my body ached, crying out for respite as my breathing grew heavy. Only worsening the matter was hunger, wracking my ears with a deep, long rumble every couple of steps I took. Perhaps if I… no, no I could not rest, I could not stop.

With sheer will, I pushed on, practically dragging my feet behind me as I marched. My breathing gave way to dry, ragged coughs that nearly caused me to stumble. How long had I gone without drinking, I realized? Just how deep of a stupor had I been in to ignore thirst? I could at least let myself drink, my water skin had to have something left, and I didn't need to stop for it. Yes, the drink was fine, just fine. I gasped and reached down for the water skin, fumbling a bit as I turned my head to look for it.

The soft fabric met my touch easily enough, and I lifted my helmet just enough to fit the spout beneath, tipping my head back to drink. The water was cool, but not entirely cold, though I hardly cared at the moment. When I had finished, I lowered my head and replaced my helmet, and nearly froze in place. Where before I had seen only open roads and forestland, I now noticed a body slumped on one of the trees. The body was fresh, not enough time had passed even for the color to fade from his skin. Brown hair and a beard of matching color seemed as vibrant as any living man, this man had died recently, someone was nearby.

My breathing seemed to slow on its own as I drew my sword and peered into the trees surrounding me. The faint light piercing through the thicket did not reveal a soul, only the faded browns and whites of dead wood and pure snow. Even blood seemed absent, not a trail in sight. This struck me as particularly concerning, how could such a fresh body not leave a blood trail? Had he simply died from the cold? He certainly didn't look like a man who'd frozen to death… I tried not to think about it and slowly made my way forward, keeping a close eye on my surroundings.

Only emptiness met my gaze, not even a squirrel or a bird passing by. For that matter, I couldn't seem to hear anything either. Even my armor had fallen silent, its plates and chain signifying not the slightest of movement. It was as if all sound had simply ceased, or worse, I had simply become incapable of hearing it. But so suddenly, with no warning? No, there had to be some explanation for this, a plot from devious brigands or rogue knights, it was the only thing that made any sense. But how had they done it?

I was so enveloped in my own questioning that I barely noticed a large tree branch in the road. Foolish, I thought to myself. Traveling alone on the open road and not paying attention to my footing, that was an easy way to get myself killed. I needed to be more careful, more observant, lest I fall before I could help anyone. When I adjusted to step over the branch, my blood ran cold. The thing before me was not a branch, it was brown and faded, like any branch in the winter season. But this "branch" was connected to a dark black boot, and led to another equally sized appendage. This was another body, one that looked almost identical to the first.

Gazing up, I realized now that the entire path was littered with the corpses of that brown haired man, dozens, if not hundreds of cadavers. My stomach churned as I staggered in place, taking in the ghastly sight before me. What was this? Some sort of genocide? A cultish self suicide? How had I not heard of this? No, no it couldn't be any one of those, I would have had to hear about something akin to that. Maybe the men all came from one family and died? But what then, were they all identical? Hundreds of identical brothers murdered at the same time? The idea was ridiculous, an absurdity beyond any rash of sanity. A more terrifying possibility crossed my mind as I pondered this, mystified by the collective grave of lookalikes; I was in Hell. Somewhere on the road I'd frozen to death or died of exhaustion, and now I was in Hell. No, no no no that was too horrible a possibility to bear, I couldn't be in Hell, I wasn't!

But how else could I explain this? A graveyard of identical men, a winding path into the infinite, and why couldn't I hear anything?! It wasn't as though I hadn't earned a pit in the Inferno, how much suffering had I wrought in my life? Stone and Deborah cast aside like they were nothing, hundreds, maybe thousands slaughtered by my sword, children amongst them? By God, HOW MANY CHILDREN?! All because of that damned attack on Svengard, and me being too blind or too stupid to walk away, how many…

…Svengard, I realized. I'm in Svengard. But I didn't understand how I had found my way back here. And why were the bodies so fresh, let alone so clean? I suppose it didn't matter, all things considered. Maybe I had only dreamed all of that which came after. Maybe I was still here, amid the smoldering ruin… Yes, that had to be it. There was no Nov Domas, no Herongale, no… No Deborah. Stone was still just as clueless as I had been only moments ago, I'd just broken first…

It was with this realization I stepped forward, careful to avoid the bodies. Not the same man, I now understood. The same clan, a band of brothers, slaughtered by my hand. That orange glow hadn't been daylight, it was the fire. I still couldn't hear it, hear anything, but I was sure it would come back to me, in time. The blood had already started to return, wounds and gashes appearing now on the mutilated men. Houses of thatch and lumber were being destroyed before my very eyes, not that my fellows cared. At the top of the incline, I could see him, on his knees. He was bloodied, head bowed in silent defeat, his life snuffed out. Jarl Gudmundr was dead.

I had finally reached him again, after trying to flee. What a fool I'd been, there was no fleeing what I'd done. I could only stare at the man who's world I'd destroyed, even if I had been unaware. "To Hel with you", his final words had been. I wondered if he had meant his pantheon's Hel, or the true Hell I feared was waiting for me. It didn't matter, I suppose. I knelt by him and stared at his dead, vacant eyes. Forever closed, forever driven from this world.

"I'm sorry…" I whimpered. My voice had broken now, God what had I done… was He punishing me? Showing me a world I would never have? A world of redemption? I didn't deserve that world, not for a moment. Three years in the blink of an eye, and now God had brought me back. I couldn't do this again…

"Please… Deliver me…" I cried, clasping hold of the Jarl's shoulders, his armor cold to the touch. I couldn't think, I couldn't move, I could only plead for my soul… Beg God to take me from this awful place, beg for all this to be an omen, maybe if I could go back…

"My God please deliver me! I cannot bear this, deliver me from this Hell! I beg You!" I bawled, my entire body shaking. My chest heaved as I lost control, weeping bitterly against the snow. What had I done… how could I have done this…? I felt only shame and disgust as I sobbed, letting the cold silence fill the air. It was as I cried that I felt something, a gentle warmth on the back of my skull. Like a loving father consoling his lost son. This warmth slowly spread to the base of my neck, then to the core of my chest. I was finally able to breathe and catch my breath as my body became enveloped by the warm embrace of… something. What it was, I do not, cannot know. For before I was able to understand, I realized that my hearing had returned.

The birds had resumed their singing, their songs flowing in the wind. I gathered my resolve long enough to look back up, only to see a long dead body, one that I recognized as the man from before. The man had brown hair and a beard of matching color, just as before, but now his skin had turned pale, almost blue in color. I blinked and shook my head, disoriented. Had I dreamed all of that? What was that warmth, God, my waking senses? But this body, it was real… just more decayed and older than I'd first thought, right down to the colors of the hair. Where was I?

Confused, I slowly removed my hands from the shoulders of the body, the sound of shuffling snow being my only indication of the reality of it. With bated breaths I stood, walked forward, and found myself back on the path, right where I'd seen the bodies before. This time, there was nothing there, only snow and destroyed branches. The sunlight had even begun to pierce the thick layers of the forest, day time had indeed come. For a time I could only stand, confused and uncertain of just what I'd been through. I felt as though I were swimming without moving, dreaming without sleeping. I was so tired… but I had to press on. This was real… I hoped.

It was only a few steps more I was able to walk before my legs gave way under me. I threw out my arm and steadied myself against a tree, carefully lowering myself to the ground. The freezing snow kept me lucid, though my eyes remained heavy. My head felt dizzy, and that's when I realized how quickly and how heavily I had been panting. For a moment I waited, hoping this sinking dread of uncertainty would pass. When this sensation began to fester, I felt my breath only continue to grow out of control, I needed something to cling onto, something to prove my reality, but what?

Realization dawned on me nearly as quickly as I began clawing at my chest, throwing aside the furs and shifting the plates away from me. Images flashed in my mind as I fumbled with a chain around my neck, and pulled. The metals slid against one another as I yanked the pendant forward, it's chain barely holding against my forceful tearing. There it was, in my hands, the Iron Legion signet. Too distinct from the Blackstone bauble I'd kept during my service, I couldn't mistake it. Could I? The pendant shifted in my view in but a moment, the sword and castles morphing into that accursed skull and helmet. The shift lasted only a second or two, but it was enough to cast my world into doubt once again. What else? If not even this covenant with my greatest friend could-

The pendant. The one from the fortress, yes, that was the key! Surely nothing I'd owned from days past could mimic such an item, it had to be the key! In an almost rabid flash of panic, I took hold of the furs I had so callously thrown aside, and dug through its pockets until I found that small brown case, my hands trembling as I tried to open it. Finally, the box relented, revealing the intertwined doves of diamonds, the beaks touching tenderly. No images flashed in my mind, save for one, a brief picture of Deborah, lute in hand as she smiled.

Only after a few minutes had passed did I feel secure in my senses, certain I was back to the true here and now. My breathing finally began to slow as I held the box, keeping it steady in my hand as I reached for the signet with the other. I stared for an unknown time at both of them, one a gift from my best friend, the other a reminder of someone that had become so crucial to me in only a short time. That soft warmth returned to me now, radiating from my chest to the rest of my body. Had this been my life prior to traveling with my companions, I wondered?

I remembered many sleepless nights, and too many waking reminders of the past. Yet, save for that first night with Deborah, I could not recall such a vivid flash of memories while I traveled alongside them. Even then, she'd brought me back that night. They both had, I realized, they'd kept me from going back, kept me grounded and present. My truest companions, and I'd thrown them away… How… how could I do that…?

I'm not sure if it was grief or exhaustion that fueled it, but when I truly understood what I had condemned myself to, and what more lay ahead of me, I bowed my head, held my keepsakes as tightly to me as I could…

…And wept.