Death. Death all around me. I saw it in the withered leaves. I saw it in the tested branches. I saw it in the scorched soil and burnt grass marking where the fel fire had spread. All because of me.
Miles and miles of the sacred forest had been leveled and burned. As far as the eyes could see, nature had been corrupted and the carcasses of a few stray demons still lied about. The balance had been offset, nature had been defiled and the Goddess had been betrayed.
All because of me.
One more time, I looked down at myself and almost retched. Walking on my new legs had become quite easy given all the time my body had had to adjust. I don't know how long I had lost my sentience for, but it had certainly been the entirety of the war. That I had somehow fought hard enough to regain it in time was likely the only reason I'd escaped the sentinels. The rest of the betrayers like me had largely been culled when the remnant forces of the now banished Legion made their last stand in the Satyr War. I stood in the middle of the singed clearing, a man alone.
No, not a man. A beast.
I didn't know if I still had toes or not; the hard chitin of my hooves didn't have nerve endings. Perhaps my elven toes were still enclosed inside, or perhaps they had mutated into whatever hooved animals possessed underneath. My transformation had taken place slowly, but during my period of madness; I remembered only that it had occurred and nothing more. The two horns on my head felt like antlers, at least; there was one consolation in that I could occasionally pretend and lie to myself, to make believe like a child that it was all a nightmare and that I was actually a successful slumbering Druid.
But that was not the case. Grunting by accident, I winced at the sound that escaped form my vocal cords. My voice was warped and demonic, and disgusting to my own vile, goat-like ears.
In retrospect, I was very foolish to have been standing out in the open like that. I was also very lucky that it was only Pontus who had been sent to confirm the sightings of me before bidding farewell.
His footsteps were always soft despite his large stature. I shut my eyes tight as I heard him approach, unable to face him after having seen what I'd become. For the longest time, he remained silent as if unable to believe it.
"What have you done?" was the only useless, rhetorical phrase he could utter.
But I could not meet his gaze. I felt like I was undeserving even of that. Gulping hard to listen to my own jaw shifting and blot out the awful sound, I answered him in that foul voice I'd been cursed with; even the blind could recognize my treason.
"That which you already know, most likely. There is nothing else to say."
I heard him shift, and although I couldn't see him, I assume that he was shaking his head. "Why...how? You were focusing so hard...why? Why you of all people?" His question was as irritating as it was foolish.
"The sacred hymns I sang did not pass behind my throat. I wandered in the dark, deaf, dumb and blind, and thought I'd found my way. Anything to avoid the crushing monotony of facing my own failure as a Druid every single day."
"No. You would not have failed. Master Geldor would not have allowed it," Pontus retorted, causing me to grit my teeth. "You had promise - he saw it in you."
"He can see whatever he wants; there is still a natural order to life. The cruelty of the world keeps and forsakes those who it wills." I hung my head even lower in shame, feeling angry at everything and nothing as I tried to move on to acceptance. "This was always my destiny; the world is bleak for the wicked like me."
As if sensing my stubbornness, Pontus quieted down and stepped away. "There is so much beauty in the world, if only you had allowed yourself to see it. The balance finds an appropriate place for us all, no matter what." When I refused to answer, he gave up; my grotesque appearance was likely enough to demonstrate to him that I was beyond saving.
And so I stood alone again, waiting for nothing as I found myself empty of all faith and inspiration. I had not been robbed of it, mind you. This, I found as the voice visited me for the last time.
The most twisted of saplings struggled to remain standing in the corrupt soil as fel fire burned it to dust. That fire shone in my eyes, hypnotizing me as one wretch taunted another.
"You made your choice," it whispered, fading into nothingness by the second. "First, you left the Kaldorei; then, you left the Legion. All that you see now is what your own hands have wrought."
Seething even hotter than the demonic flames, I cursed that twisted little tree. "You led me to this!" I hissed in futility. "You led me astray from the true path!"
Refusing to leave me to my infantile fantasies, the voice taunted me one last time before it disappeared.
"I did nothing; all of this was by your own actions." The tree burned even faster as it began to disintegrate, threatening me with true solitude. "I have neither the power to help nor to hurt; it is only the direction that I give. The choice is yours. The choice makes the difference."
And the voice was right. It was right, and I knew it. A betrayer of my people, an outcast even among demons, I began to walk without knowing my destination. Downcast and dejected, I came to know what true loss meant; as I roamed the corrupt landscape, only dust and soot were my companions.