Peace for Men

[Ford 1996]

 

On the outskirts of Oak Shade rested an abundant pile of black ashes which dirtied the tundra.

 

There was memorabilia which had been placed down by the hay and the pyre that was once discernible. And there was silence, too, that covered the grave site in a sullen blanket.

 

But the crunching of snow beneath trekking feet broke the placid atmosphere, a fur coat-adorned mali'ame approaching the ash pile while carrying in his hand a clear flask filled three-quarters of the way with a brown ale. The mali sat himself  down cross-legged in front of the grave and planted the flask into the thick snow, letting it cool. He granted the ashes a smile and a deep nod. 

 

"Hey there."

 

Cupping his gloved hands together, he blew a warm breath into them. Veidan glanced behind his shoulder and took in the craggy hill that separated the snow from the cursed town of Oak Shade which had become rife with overgrowth. He turned back around and shook his head.

 

"It's a shame, what happened to that place. I like it more than the other human settlements, if I'm being honest. It's cozy, don't you think?"

 

A quiet whistle of wind.

 

"Well, it was. Hmph... Things are getting more difficult, you know. Became a druid hoping things would become easier to do, but it's just, uh... it's harder. Whispers -- I keep hearing them. Sometimes they're quiet, but some are louder than others.  Couldn't sleep soundly for at least two nights. And guard work can be a pain, you know, because criminals... Criminals and people just want to piss us off all the time. It does get on my nerves, once or twice, but, I find that if I just keep telling myself 'self-control', it works."

 

"What else... Vicelin's not, uhm... doing all that well, from what I've heard. Nothing too serious, but it's a tad concerning. But don't worry yourself, alright? He'll get better. He's in good hands, and within less than an Elven day he'll be back up on his feet again."

 

Moments of silence passed by between the two, swaying spruces ahead giving Veidan something to focus on for the time being, his eyes avoiding looking at the grave before him. Abruptly, he swiped outwards to the side for the neck of the flask and pulled it out of the snow. Although the 'ame struggled some with opening it, eventually the bottle let out a satisfying 'pop' after he took the cork off with his finger and thumb. And then, Veidan took a swig.  

 

He took a swig when he remembered Haddock's father, who took him in with his family and gave him a roof to live under when his degenerate of a mother was too busy trying to leech off of the next man in sight. He took a swig when he remembered the first time he met Haddock. He took a swig when he remembered Haddock and him being bullied by the local kids. He took a swig when he remembered the time Vicelin and Meryl visited the Plissken household. And another one, for when Vicelin taught the two boys how to fight. And another, why not? Another, for the time when Veidan and Haddock were bruised, bloodied some, and sore, but still managed to teach those damn kids a lesson with their fists, their teeth, their feet...

 

The mali downed half of the contents by the time the sunset blessed the snow with its warm orange glow, his last swig being for the time he remembered the escape from the persistent hordes of Undead near Bastion with Haddock, barely making it out of there alive.

 

With a tipsy tinge to his rise, the elf smiled down at his friend's burial. Veidan extended his arm with the flask out and turned it over completely. The rest of the liquor would be drained onto the snow near the ash pile. Thoughtfully, the elf shook the bottle down, the last few drops of ale dripping from the rim.

 

"Drink up, Haddock. You deserve it, friend."

 

Night was coming, the star-mottled sky creeping over the realm. Veidan sighed a weary sigh.

 

"You were alright... Rest in the Seven."

 

And then he departed, bottle in hand.

 

 

 

 

[oncenoeda 116]

Spoiler

 

 

The icy wind bit deep into their flesh, made only worse by their damp attire from wading through the glacial river, their hearts pounded and the adrenaline in their blood made it easy enough to ignore. Gore coated their faces and hands, thankfully not their own.

 

 "They're all around us, damn it!" hollered Haddock, lagging behind a bit as he wrestled with one of Mordring's many ghouls, eventually managing to thrust his dagger into its eye. "Keep moving!" shouted Veidan as he drew back his bow and skillfully picked off one of the riders, causing its body to tumble down the sheer rock face near them, its guts spilling out as it impaled itself on a sharp rock.

 

The men ran through the frigid valley, dead archers and swordsmen attacking them all the while. Haddock was struck in the arm and Veidan hurt his leg after rolling down a hill to escape a few of the riders. But the combined efforts of both men was just enough to beat them away, just barely.

 

Nothing but mist and the moans of the beasts closing in on them filled the air. They supported each other as they hobbled through the wastes, arms slung over each others shoulders, using their collective strength to push forwards, away from the horde.

 

 A familiar feeling, one they had both experienced many years prior when facing their childhood enemies. 

 

"You fuckin' bastards don't know who you're messing with!" shouted a young Veidan, about fifteen years ago, throwing himself at kids twice his size. Haddock soon charged in afterwards, often cursing his friends impulsiveness. After they were both beaten back down they hobbled home so that their welts and broken bones could be mended, using each other as support. Things hadn't changed much.

 

The groaning of their assailants eventually dissipated, their many rotten figures losing them in the vast whiteness of the tundra. They were alone, in this blank canvas of a place, naught but each others blood to keep each other warm. 

 

 

They kept hobbling along like they had done so many times before, one carrying the other when he was too weak to go on, but Haddock felt his grip slacken, and he fell to a knee. He layed there in the wastes, Veidan suddenly fading away as if it were all a dream.

 

"No! Don't leave me!" he cried, reaching out to where Veidan once was, his hand finding naught but frozen air. "We always have each others backs, remember?!" he yelled, his voice breaking as he struggled to hold back tears.

 

He looked down at his hands started to crumbled away into ash, staining the crisp white snow beneath him black. He lifted his head in a panick, spotting the body of someone familiar. Meryl. He cried out her name, but no words came out and he staggered through the snow, holding her pale form in his grasp. He held her up to him and began to cry, his body continuing to crumble away as he held the love of his life who had been ripped from his grasp so young before.

 

 

"Finally..." he whispered, pressing her chest to his, "I'm with you again."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[mitto 2312]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it.