The fog had thinned to nothingness, and Rowan was surprised that daybreak had arrived. It did not seem so long ago when the sun rose yesterday, a full day had been consumed by the chaos and despair.
He had experienced so much, yet he could close his eyesโฆ and easily remember when he was a miner digging through the earth or he when he was a frail Noble brat, who buried his head in books and dreams. Now in less than a week. He had become something different.
In less than a week, he had seen death and suffering far more than he could have ever imagined. He had killed and ๐ธ๐ข๐ด killed. This should have been a terrible dream, but he was awake and aware of all of it. So, what does that make reality but a nightmare.
What would he have to become to survive this reality? What atrocities was he willing to commit? What sacrifices was he willing to make?
Again that words came forth, unbidden, from his mind, "I thought I was a man, but I am nothing but char and cinders."
๐๐ฉ๐ข๐ณ๐ด ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ค๐ช๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ด. ๐๐ญ๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ฅ ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ด๐ฉ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฐ๐ธ๐ด. ๐๐ด ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐ข๐ญ๐ญ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐ธ๐ฐ๐ณ๐ญ๐ฅ ๐ฉ๐ข๐ด ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฐ๐ง๐ง๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ฎ๐ฆ? ๐๐ฉ๐บ ๐ฅ๐ฐ ๐ ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ต ๐ด๐ฆ๐ฆ ๐ข๐ฏ๐บ ๐ญ๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต ๐ช๐ฏ๐ด๐ช๐ฅ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฅ๐ข๐ณ๐ฌ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ด๐ด?
Rowan finally approached the heavy gates of his manor, it was a draw bridge which dropped over a small mo๐ขt filled with Azythin, a nasty material that corrodes flesh and bones.
They arrive to the cheering and weeping of the manor's staff, who saw the techniques Rowan had unleashed from a distance and heard the screams from the town. They had all shaken in fear.
The relief when they had felt seeing the arriving crowd was palpable, since most of them had families from the town, and they were distraught at the fate of their loved ones.
Rowan saw hopeful faces, that soon scrunched up in sorrow and disbelief at the sparse crowd behind him, he had done all he could, yet he still felt shame.
But he was amazed at the tenacity of these people. At the start of the day, this town was breathing and thriving. Well over three thousand people made this place home. Now what was left numbered no more than one hundred and twenty.
If Rowan did not fully understand the reality of this world. Now he did. Death came for all, but in this world, death was a malicious and relentless wave washing over the shore. The people were like loose sand, and with every wave, more of them were dragged to the cold darkness. Inevitable and unrelenting, it would never stop until it consumes all.
Then he saw something amazing that drove the darkness away from his thoughts. These people understood their helpless stance in this world, yet they kept on pushing for a better day, he had never seen strength like this.
Rowan saw them bracing themselves and picking their grief and placing them aside. Without the threat of immediate demise, they hugged their neighbors and comforted the children.
He saw Purdue the Dark Priest, his face drawn and tired. Yet, his voice of consolation and comfort was strong. Purdue caught his gaze and Rowan nodded at him, he returned the gesture.
He saw faces he knew from his memories, and those he knew from the souls he kept. In a manner, he knows everyone here deeply.
Rowan watches as a semblance of calm comes over the people. He watched the horror and the nightmare slowly pull away from their Visage.
But you only had to look beneath the surface, and you would catch a glimpse into eyes that held only pain but shielded by a strength borne from love. They did not complain over what was lost, but instead strove to protect what was left.
Seeing all these. Rowan wept. He was thankful for his shell, for he was sure his face presently would make babies cry. And in a weird way, tears were a form of release.
Why should he complain about the darkness and his loss? He was far more powerful than these people, but in their own way, they were all stronger than him, like an unyielding grass, they bend but they do not break and even if they are cut down and burnt, from the ashes they would make themselves new.
He had much to learn from them, for even in his plight, he still had much to give thanks for. Not only that, but he had already lost if he let despair win.
The butlers called to round up the people, for he was going to distribute them in the hall beside the manor, but Rowan stopped him.
He cleared his throat and addressed the gathered people, surprised at how effortlessly he switched to the role of prince, another stark reminder of how different he had become, not only his body had changed, his mind as well.
Rowan was not convinced that this made them better than regular humans, he could even argue that it worsened them in certain aspects. To him, sentience was a watershed. Any creature that had sentience had to be placed in the same category, and none was superior to the other. freewฤbnoveโ.com
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