Measured By Steel

[Rig 17591]

 

(By CD Projekt Red, Witcher III)

 

In Cleves, 16th of the Grand Harvest, 1624.

 

A lone paladin shouldered his spear padding along the worn gravel roads of the vineyard. His speartip glimmered as he finally set his eyes on his former master Crumena Ilwindior. “Salutations,” he said in greeting, his visored gaze meeting his. “Well met, friend Mithras.” Crumena affirmed with a bob of his head studying his former student’s new set of armor with a curious gleam. “I fair well, but I bring bad news. I have been ordered by Xan to redeem you or kill you.” Mithras reached up to lift his visor his one good eye staring forwards, his new eyepatch clearly visible. “I am aware,” said Crumena. “A similar assignment t’was delegated many seasons ago. Perhaps this is apart of His grand design? A plight for the strong? Or perhaps this is just the workings of causality?” He mused as his armor gleamed in the sunlight, his expression deadpan under his helmet. “A test of faith for us both. I was told to preferably disconnect you, I deigned to refuse. Whatever happens you die or walk away from here a crusader.” Mithras’ mailed fingers wove tightly around the shaft of his spear, the radiant weapon shining in the sunlight as faint wisps of golden-hued light formed along his speartip. “Will you be redeemed or do you seek a trial by combat?”

 

Crumena shrugged his spaulders mounting woe, despite the even distribution of weight it could grow rather uncomfortable at times. He quickly strummed a hand to his side, his frayed gauntleted fingers straddling the base of his sabre. “There were once times where duels of this sort were frequent. ‘We are the flame!’ they’d cry, ‘And darkness fears us!’ I stand by such merits.” He reminisced his tone nostalgic as he ripped his sword free of its sheath at his side, the sword hilt glimmering. “I am the flame!” He recited, pedaling sideward as he took up his marshal stance. “This is but a Warden’s call to blood and steel! Only the oaken of soul shall be brought before true piety.”

 

Mithras simply nodded in response expecting no less, his sallow grey skin clearly visible as he reached up to lower his visor. “So be it, we are the flame!” He cried hefting up his spear and assuming an aggressive stance. Crumena’s shoulders narrowed as both his hands held along the base of his blade, a gem activating in the crossguard as he nestled himself before the incline at a mid-guard. Just as Mithras took to a lunge, so did his mentor pivot abruptly and fork his blade upwards, the sweeping jab for the midpoint of his sternum being seized at the crossguard and diverted. In response Mithras ripped his spear backwards and aimed to clock Crumena upside the visor with his metal fist, a sudden flare of blinding light leaving him bereft of sight for a critical couple of seconds.

 

However brief the inconclusive shine left Mithras dazed and at a disadvantage, Crumena’s greave uplifting as he delivered a decisive kick to his fellow paladin’s abdomen as he began to close the gap. The blinded paladin jabbed his spear forwards and with a loud crackle jettisoned bogus lightning straight into Crumena’s chest, the pure force flinging his arm back in a reverse arch as more illusory light creeped from his mana gem. Roaring and two-handedly grasping his spear, Mithras wedged it point first into Crumena’s exposed armpit, eliciting a fraught whisper as he wailed from his injury. After having successfully pierced his flesh, Mithras retrieved his weapon with a deft tug and pitted himself closer, rearing back and swivelling to clobber Crumena upside his helmeted cranium with the butt of his spear. Soiling the ground with gore, a harrowing shriek parted the elder paladin’s lips as he was left vulnerable to a stab in the abdomen, the head of the spear entering his flesh as another glimmer took focus; the fluorescent light doing nothing given futile odds.

 

Crumena throttled his neck forwards, pinned straight into the cobble incline, hacking loudly as he squirmed blood pooling beneath him. “I… thought death would be honorable…” he croaked weakly extending an arm to grapple the spear’s base with a frail hand. His visor rattled and his helm trembled locking crude eye combat between both combatants. Mithras retained a steadfast grip on his polearm holding it in place as his visor meets Crumena’s ebbing gaze. Slowly, the realization of his actions dawns on him, but regardless he continues not breaking eye contact. “I do not swing with my hand, I swing with my heart. Honor thy master or die trying, you shall join our liege lord in the heavens now.”

 

Raising his chin skyward, Crumena stared at Mithras before his eyes strayed to the rising dawn. “Saving me is a sin, only the helpless profane the light.” He slouched, his arms falling to his sides, fingers curled upwards as he revels in his defeat, nearing death. “My wasted life -- measured in steel and blood…” Mithras reached over to grab Crumena’s helmet. “Be with father now,” he said numbly, his tone growing increasingly miserable. “Your life wasn’t wasted, you made a few costly mistakes. You deserve to stand alongside Him.”

 

Crumena’s helm fell as Mithras’ words reached deaf ears, staring aimlessly at his punctured torso. “”I judge myself… not worthy…” He whispered, silence befalling him as his heart stopped. Mithras stifled a sob staring at the heap that was once his comrade, once one of his best friends in complete silence overwhelmed by grief.

 

Did he do the right thing? 
 

[JEEGK 1367]

Ibar's expression grew sour quickly upon hearing in of Crumena's departure, packing his belongings from the Order's keep to venture to who he once called "educator".

[Tsuyose 3285]

Peter Sigismund furrows his brows upon hearing of the death of his Court Paladin, immediately declaring an envoy locate those of Crumena's magical brethren.

[Delmodan 855]

The Keeper stands upon the balcony of the Tower of the Watchers. Her golden irises stare down blankly towards the rest of the Isle as news had reached her of what occurred. Her expression kept blank yet a small, golden teardrop would form then gently run down her cheek. 

[Thomas 3014]

While in his lifetime the two never truly saw eye to eye, and in fact perhaps a brimming objection had arisen between the original and his namesake, the younger Crumena couldn't help but feel sorrow over the loss of the one who had come before him. Thoughts trailed back to their single game of chess, and the lessons the elder had imparted on such a blissful day. He was wrong to judge; They both were, and perhaps if an afterlife was true to exist, the pair may experience reconciliation. Life, however, must move on, and Crumena Iyliar held moments of silence for his fallen origin before continuing with his tasks.

[Wyvernbane 252]

The High Templar thought of the hundreds, if not thousands, of times he had heard Crumena's name. A Creed-breaker, a murderer, a thief. The amber eyed 'ame shakes his head, clearing his mind of the many derogatory titles given to the elder Paladin, the first Keeper of Order. Salem's right fist clenches, raising the gauntlet fist to his heart. He would hold it there a moment, bowing his head. "No longer Crumena the Creed-breaker, eh?" The Wyvernbane mumbles, "Crumena the Honorable. A Paladin to the very end. May Xan hold his soul a treasure to Order."

[Heero 4092]

 

"Wherefore does the Light fade?"

 

[ski_king3 0]

Within the realm of Xan, a bearded man would welcome the arrival of an old, distant friend.

[Fawb 557]

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.