Arkada

You’ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You duck and step into a tattered tent, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the tent, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town? she begins, then pauses to study your face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a cushion, “Tell me your story.” At first Durand hesitates, his story was not one he liked to share. However, seeing as the woman offered a place in, one would assume her home, it was the least he could do. "Well miss, it's a long one so I hope you're comfortable. It began in a place beyond the ocean, a continent or two over. I grew up on a farm on the outskirts of a quiet village. I worked, slacked off, and played as any normal kid would. I was the third child of four kids, the youngest boy. I loved playing with my siblings, even when times were hard or tensions were high. I especially looked up to my elder brother, Gailon. He dreamed of being a knight, fighting evil and keeping the peace in our land. The rest of us were inspired by him and followed along in his dream. Except for my baby sister, Tina, who could not become a knight due to her sickly nature." A moment passes, with him gently smiling at the fond memories of his beginnings before he continued. "Gailon was the bravest man I ever knew. I fought alongside him and our brother Maynard through many battles against humans and monsters alike. All in defense of our land, for our people." The smile begins to fade the more Durand remembers. "I'd like to say it was all for the greater good. However I think we let our vision of honor be clouded only with victory and glory. We did not see the kingdom was in a state of depravity when the next king was crowned. He was indulgent, so most say, and taxes were beginning to rise. Many were pushed out of their homes and forced to move elsewhere, if they were not peddling on the streets. Eventually the people had enough, and protests turned to riots, which then turned into a rebellion. I, as well as my brothers and other knights were ordered to quell the rebels. We did not expect how much they would fight, nor did we expect some of our own knights to turn against us. Battles clouded any thoughts of valor. The fury of warriors prevented me from bestowing mercy on any who may have surrendered. I watched both my brothers fall, but I cannot recall when they did. Eventually I found myself in a field surrounded by corpses, as if I had just found my spot to join them in the next world. There, bloodied and battered, I asked myself what any of this was for?" Quiet hung in the air for a long, uneasy period. When Durand spoke again, it was a dry, raspy voice. "Before long, sides became skewed and everyone forgot who was trustworthy. The king, had long been dead, but the fighting did not stop. Not until there was nothing left of the kingdom that once stood. A place, no longer worthy of mention. Fortunately, the fighting did not spread to the villages along the kingdoms borders. My sister and parents were safe, but I could not even approach them, much more tell them what transpired. The amount of killing I did, and how much humanity I seemed to have thrown away in those fights. War, makes men mad. So here I am now, trying to leave the past in that far away place. I only wish to look for a quiet spot of my own, where I hope to find peace before I die. Thank you, madam, for listening."