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Tragic's Wake
Break The Silence
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Death birds circle over head as he walks across the land. Never a peaceful time had this one. Purpose distant glistens a mirage dancing across the horizon of his mind. Still he strides, footprints coughing up dust as this barren landscape yields to his penetrating gaze. Knowing it must exist, step follows step, dust follows dust. He has been on this quest so long it’s reason forgotten. Now he continues because he can’t go back.
He settles in for another night’s rest. He knows sleep likely won’t come. The demons of the waste let no one rest in their lands. Listless dreams clutch at his mind. A memory, perhaps not, of a hand extended once in love. Once, twice, and then gone as howls arise around him. They’ve come as they always do. Black clouds of rage circle round about his camp as the tiny fire cowers from their darkness. He takes up his sword and recites the words as always. A sound emerges from the gathering storm. Not the fear as before though, no the mocking laughter comes. The words fail, faith has left this one. His purpose lost, his faith lost, melted like ice under a fierce sun. His sword flashes across the encircling malevolence. No power under these dark skies can slay this foe.
It closes in, laughing, snarling, eating at the edges of his dreams. A voice sweetly whispers, “give in this won’t hurt.” He falls to his knees. A memory of things to come courses through his soul. He sees a meadow. Green grass and flowers dancing to the song of the wind. She is there, he remembers her from somewhere. She wraps him in an embrace only love could imagine. She whsipers a better hope into his ear. “You are not forsaken, not lost, you are exactly where you are meant to be. God cannot forget you. Now stand up and remember who you are!”
Vision fades to blackness as the darkness has all but laid it’s claim upon his form in this wretched waste. He rises and the cloud hesitates. “I serve Love and Him alone I shall serve!” The force of his remembered reason cuts like sunbeams through the shroud of death surrounding him. His sword finds its edge against this foe as a power from beyond this sky takes up the battle. The old foe falters and scatters to the winds once more. No miracle is this, but simple fact. No obscuring fog can shadow the Sun of Love. Son of Love, remember, arise, and let no evil befall you.
