Brave the Flames

[TheWyrdWolf 1532]

 

“Brave the flames, if you wish to live.”
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Spoiler

 

The words raced through his mind as he sat upon the edge of the river in some secluded forest grove at the edge of the world. He stared into the waters as his reflection stared back, observing the burns he had sustained in his flight from the past.

He pictured the events of the day clearly, a tunnel of darkness trapping him in on all sides, stone walls closing in and suffocating him. Behind him, the sonorous proclamations and mocking tongue of a King of the Hells that sought only to drag him back into infernal chains. Before him stood a young woman, radiant beacon of ash and fire, a guardian wreathed in flame who barred his path and that of the darkness behind him.

It had felt like a turning point. A single decision that would ultimately dictate the course of his future even if he had been damned to eternal torment in the Hells. Upon the cusp of the intense heat and ash that radiated from her, he hesitated. He had hesitated not because of pain, at least not at first, but for the first time in his life the path forward demanded suffering in the pursuit of something greater, no shortcuts, no bargains with dark gods or promises of power. Only pain, sacrifice and faith that there might be a glimmer of hope beyond those flames.

He needed only to brave the fire.

And so he did.
 

The smell of burning flesh marked his decision and sealed his fate. When he emerged into the relative safety of the other side, he had collapsed out of pure mental and physical exhaustion from the events of the day. He could only watch as this woman and her guard stood in the face of evil, and banished it with cleansing flame and blade, casting it back into the depths from whence it came. 

 

In the midst of this clash of flame and shadow, a white dove had been struck down. It had been the same white dove that had lingered around him for many years, always watching like some silent guardian. As he held the dove in his hands, the realization struck him hard.

 

He had called himself a protector. He had sought to redeem himself of the sins of his past, to make good on his promise and vow to the one he cared for. Yet all he had truly accomplished was nearly getting a stranger killed and losing his own life. He had shut the doors of the only path he knew that could see his connection to the Hells severed and now he was alone, an outcast once more.

Once again his weakness and inability to do anything had been proven, he had to be saved by others and did not have the strength to do it himself. If he was so weak, how could he go about protecting others? The thought stabbed at his heart.

In the aftermath of that battle, the Elder had arrived and he had been interrogated. He felt the judging stares of all around him, the hate in their eyes for what he was and yet he had been granted mercy. Banishment.

“Do not return until you are free of the Darkness.” the Elder had said.

 

As he stared at his reflection in the waters and tended to the burns he had endured, he was left with more uncertainty than before. The Black Church and all its Infernal hounds would hunt him now, he had no allies left, nowhere left to hide.

He only had one thought in his mind.

What now..