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VII
Don't
He was nearing the gates of Brennenburg. He was nearing his destiny, his death, his rebirth. Every step he took was a life to be taken.
Don't. Stop walking.
He stopped, looked back in trepidation. The outrider, after securing the reins, touched the brim of his hat as a final goodbye.
Don't let him leave.
He was nearing the castle. What would the baron be like? Would he really help him? He kept the orb close to his side, wrapped in cloth. He was to protect it from any stranger.
Don't take it to him.
His shadow felt alien. The snow-white moon cast a shadow bigger than life itself, an all-encompassing shadow of death. He clutched the orb against his chest, begging for protection.
Don't stop praying.
He could see him. Alexander of Brennenburg, standing at the gates of the castle, smiling at him. Fear, unrest, hesitation.
Run. Don't look back.
Alexander greeted him, still smiling. He didn't know what to do, what to say. His grey eyes were pure ice. Fear… unrest.
Don't look at him.
But help was needed. He was Death's messenger, and his shadow was Death herself. He shook Alexander's hand.
Don't go inside.
He stepped through the gates, into a world he would never understand. The orb was beating like a second heart, warm to the touch: his only escape from Brennenburg's icy atmosphere.
Don't accept his offer.
Another step, another beat. The hearts were speeding up, pounding in his ears. Brennenburg offered no hospitality.
Don't trust him.
It was difficult not to.
Don't.
It was so difficult not to.
DON'T!
Another step, another beat. But his heart had stopped. Tears were falling, his soul was broken.
Don't hesitate.
Don't let him live.
KILL HIM!
And his tears are still flowing.