Path

Written by: Flameholder
Posted on: March 5, 2002

Path

Chapter 3
This green horn learned and learned well. She would never be as great as the master, but she would survive. Green though she was, she did have other talents. Some that served others well and some that served only herself. It was this that gave him concern, but time would only tell as to which path that would lead.

Through the training and learning there was a time for merriment. Smiling, he remembers the hours of strategy games with the unmoving one. Hours upon hours of combinations of plays, to evaluate the best placements of points to conquer the reining score. This gave him immeasurable joy. Hours would pass at the blink of an eye, and still he wished for more. This was a vice that could consume him were it a peaceful time. But, in Tristram, there were only pockets of peace, and he had a mission to complete.

It was during this time, that he worked with the Warrior. Cryptic that he was, his words were like silk to ones ears. He had hopes of training with this one, his talents were many and they would have enhanced his fighting skills ten fold. He thought in him he had found a man of superior honor. To emulate this one might bring him what he desired “Knight of the Lords realm”. He pondered asking this one to train him in the knightly ways, but he was less to this one than first thought. It was not to be.

In time, the western winds brought a Mage to town - a calm came over him upon this sight. Finally, one that he knew how to teach, one that shared his talents and method of fighting. He was pleased to travel with this one. This new mage, young, ever so young, looking for guidance and trying much patience during his journey to squire. He was young and fresh and full of life, no fears in this one. Pity, that he had lessons to learn that a young one should not be bothered with, but times such as these offer no promise of kindness.

Though he trained the mage and the bow wielders he as well continued his training. ‘Twas not the warrior that would bring him to the Lord table but she that first drew him to this land. She was now the master and he the student. He trained extensively with her. Quests were set, he met them. Challenges were placed, he met them. With much determination he fulfilled his honor bound wish. He was Knighted in the presence of his peers. A more joyous occasion could not replace this one. Now, and now alone, he could sit at the Lords table. He was bound by word alone, no deed need be done, as he was a Knight, and his word was one of honor and truth. He had proven himself through task, test and treasure.

This was a time of bliss. He fought deeper now into the pits of demise. Even though the light of dawn ne’er reached the places he fought, his spirit and determination brightened these pits, and things were brought to righteousness.

It was then when things turned. In a time that should have been a shining hour, a beacon of pure light, things turn black and foreboding. To this hour, nay, to this minute he could not foresee what was to pass.
As he fought aside those he had fought by many an hour he felt something most odd. It started as a small pain as though a muscle had been pushed to far. Then it grew quickly to a burning agony that ripped through his body. For between his plated back panels there lay one silver dagger. Just beyond his reach and deep enough to allow his life to drain from him. In his franticness to retrieve this taker of life he only succeeded in driving it deeper. He could stand no longer and dropped heavily upon his knees. He looked upon those he knew, she that drew him here, the cryptic one, the green horn, the mage and the many other faces he knew well.
“WHO” he cried, but none answered
He fell on his side, screaming out –
“Muse!”
“Muse, be quick and take this soul
let not the madness stay,
for in your wake a heart doth break
and friendship fades away”
as these mere words passed his lips so did his life dwindle, for with the last word, so was his last breath.
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