Forest Wanderer

[Myleres 1658]

Spoiler

 

 

 
Image credit: [Janek-Sedlar]

“Do you think yourself capable for this task, Ash-Bearer?”

“I do not think. I know.” 

 

  What did it mean to cut down the innocent? Was she meant to take the life of a descendant in cold blood? His tasks were hardly this obvious – the first answer she arrived at was almost always wrong. Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was only one solution to this trial. She had shown how much she was willing to give for this path. Her old ways, her friends, even her sanity. Mora had given everything she could, left with naught but the burning passion within; what else was there to sacrifice? It was on her trek to Nevaehlen that she began to wonder. Maybe this trial was not about giving or sacrifice. Maybe it was about what she was willing to take.

 

“Is anyone truly innocent?”

“It is all a matter of perspective, Mora.”

 

     Those words echoed in her mind, a fruitless question uttered to a being that dare not answer. Even the purest of priests, nuns, or acolytes had sinned; whether it be as miniscule as a lie or any transgression larger. A sin was a sin, no matter the size. Even then, she had no belief in man’s innocence – for innocence was weakness in the eyes of the wild. Her eyes settled upon the Nevaehli gatehouse, wondering if the wild folk might bear the answer to her question. Whether knowingly or not, they had ushered her further along this path than any herald had. Like her old mentor had taught, it always helped to return to your roots.

 

“What does the wind have to say?” 

 

  She lay alone with nothing but the wind to give her comfort. Tapping her ferrum kukri along her thigh, she pondered the possibility that one of the Nevaehli might wander out here alone. Could she even bring herself to do it if the opportunity arose? Would she ruin the serenity of the calm, quiet evening in the forest? Even then, she had already come to the conclusion that no descendant was innocent. None but herself. Her eyes darted down to her arms, noting the crimson tattoos that lined her forearms. Ichor was going to make a lovely addition to the draconic branding. She drew in a deep breath through gritted teeth, grip tightening along the blade.

Her attention was soon caught by the quiet rustling of a bush, gentle footfalls signifying someone – or something’s – approach. A fawn wandered up to her, beady eyes staring her down. The kukri was brought back to her side in a slow, cautious motion as she tried not to startle the creature. The slightest hint of a smile began to creep upon her visage as realization set in.

 

“No descendant is truly innocent.”

 

    The carcass of a fawn and its mother now lay at her feet, ichor seeping into the earth below. The unrelenting heat she felt was no longer unbearable – instead, she found comfort in the warmth which surrounded her. Sinking to her knees, Mora was finally able to extract some simple pleasure from a job well done. Though her hands had been stained, the blood was not her own. For the first time in a long while, a genuine laugh rolled out from between her lips. She was finished.

[kindEmperor 998]

A Doomforged eyes flicker, a smile forms.

[Royal Peasant 444]

I always do enjoy writing the tales you bring to life lumi. Thank you for another fun read!