The Regrets of a Fallen Warrior
As He Stared down at his bloody hands...
The Regrets of the Fallen Warrior
There was a warrior, but not just any warrior. Not a sellsword, or a mercenary or a mere soldier, no, this warrior was a champion of the Light, a paragon of Order. A hero. This warrior came home one day to find that everything that mattered to him was gone. Everyone that he ever loved, taken from him - his children? Murdered. His parents? Murdered. His wife? His wife…she was found in such a state, that murder…mere murder would have been a mercy.
For, the monsters in the guise of men, his enemies, had come and had worked a bloody retribution. They had struck back against the warrior for his many victories against them.
The warrior fell into a pit of despair, into the worst reaches of darkness. Oh, the Light offered peace, the Light offered justice…bah! Fuck Peace! To the Hells with Justice! He raged. The warrior wanted vengeance. The warrior wanted his own bloody retribution. So the warrior made a promise to himself in the worst reaches of his darkness. He made a terrible vow of bloody revenge. But the Light, oh...the Light, to who’s service the warrior had been pledged to before his birth, the Light who failed to protect the warrior’s children, his parents, his wife. The Light could not, no would not, honor the warrior's terrible vow. Oh no…because that was not the Light's way…and this, this horror, this injustice, apparently this was to be his reward for defending the faithful, the innocent, the Light. For protecting God's Kingdom.
But something else would honor his vow. Something else that dwelled in the dark, something else that rejoiced in rage, something else that enjoyed vengeance. And that something else reached out to the warrior in his pit of despair, into the worst reaches of darkness. And that something else said: “let me in. Let me in, and I promise you, you will have your vengeance. Let me in, and you will gain your bloody retribution. Let me in, and you will wash your hands in blood.” And the warrior, in his pit of despair, the warrior in the worst reaches of darkness, the warrior let the something else in. And so it all began.
Time went by, like it always did. And years became decades. And the warrior’s grief, the warrior’s rage, they both still burned red hot. But then one day the warrior paused - the warrior who was no longer a champion of the Light, nor a paragon of Order. And certainly no longer a hero - He saw the atrocities he had committed, and the horrors he inflicted. And he realized, that HE was now the Monster in the guise of a man, for it was he who now took everything that mattered from others, and it was now he who murdered. And he suddenly felt regret and sorrow for the things that he had done. Can I even make amends? Is such a thing possible? He asked himself, knowing that to make amends he must pay. That he must be brought to justice for his actions. That he must die.
However, something else was still inside of him. And something else, sensing the warrior’s regret, laughed and said: “you let me in, and all of this death, and all of this pain, and all of this grief? This is your fault. For you wanted bloody revenge. And you have certainly had that, have you not? And I, no, YOU, you will never stop. It is much too late for that. But tell me, have you ever paused to consider how many others like you, that your vengeance has created? Victims of your rage, who in turn have - or will - become monsters in the guise of men, washing their hands in the blood of the innocent? How many I wonder? How many now walk the world because of you? And in turn, how many more monsters will their actions create? Like ripples in a pond. You are the stone that has caused, and will cause, so much misery. And this hate, this rage, this sorrow, these things will be your only legacy. And these monsters? Well, these monsters in the guise of men, will be your only remembered children.”
And the warrior turned monster knew in his heart that he was truly and forever damned.