Seeker's Shadows

In the midst of an open plain, beneath a cloudless night sky, within a restless slumber, what once was a man dreamed. Amongst fevered tossing and turning, wallowing over the tall grasses, he mumbled, "My queen...." What was a dream became something more…memory. As the dream/memory went on, the thrashing started. The thrashing soon gave rise to cries. The cries gave way to blessed wakefulness. The waking dream where nothing mattered, save one thing.

Find Her.

But the rage always carried over into the waking dream. The smoldering anger that always rested just beneath the surface.

With a savage yell of frustration and sorrow, the thing that once was a man forsook his resting place and set off once more. Once more towards the end that called him. The end, where all things go. The end that drew him onward, one maddening step after another. The end where she waited for him.

With huge, hunched shoulders heaving as his lungs bellowed air within his massive chest, he leapt into a sprint, taking long, heavy strides, propelling his bulk forward at a speed uncanny for his size. One more soul-chilling shout at the moonless night sky, and the pain faded away. Faded away into an all-encompassing drive. Don't stop. Never stop. Let none bar your way.

FIND HER....

. . .

Far away, four haggard men rode in the light of day. Following the trail left for them. The trail of death and fear that their quarry always left in his wake. For many long months had they pursued him. Tasked with bringing him to justice. Keeping up an impossible pace, following something that had become a force of nature. Long ago they left the borders of their home. Their word bound them, they could not fail. They hunted a monster. A twisted man that killed innocent and wicked alike, any who stood to oppose him. The swath of destruction he had cut through their kingdom had left a mark that would be remembered for decades to come. He could not be allowed to roam free. So four men rode, desperate to catch something that may have been a man.

Every encounter had been a disaster. Any attempt to confront him, ended in death. He was faster than possible, more resilient than was conceivable, stronger than imaginable. Their commander, a grizzled and wizened man, was at his wit’s end. For so long they had failed. So many men dead. Where once they were a small company, now only four remained. The haunted look in their eyes spoke volumes. The slump of their shoulders told all. They could not go on. The commander knew this. And so an idea took root.

A fascination had formed, long ago. Such a beast must have a motive, it could not just be mindless slaughter. They traveled in a relatively straight line, he was going somewhere. He had a destination. He let nothing stop his forward march. Mountains, rivers, swamps...he forced his way through regardless. They struggled to keep up, but when next they found him, orders be damned. He would go with this beast, even if his men abandoned him. The time for confrontation and violence was over. The beast was not a creature to be tamed, only satiated. Should a man help him reach his goal, whatever it may be, perhaps the terror would end. He saw no way to end it otherwise, except at the cost of his own life and the lives of his remaining men. It was an unacceptable cost, those and the lives of so many more who had already been laid to rest. There had to be a reason. Surely evil in such a pure form could not be allowed to exist by whatever powers there may be. But maybe they could ease the pain. If they could find him once more, keep pace and warn those ahead. Maybe they could mitigate the suffering. Maybe they could learn what he sought.

Only a handful of times had they managed to corner their mark. A mistake each time, yet they learned something more from every fight. The man, the creature, whatever he was, he would mumble of queens and faraway lands. The need to find solace for an insurmountable guilt. A place at the end of the world where all souls go before they move on. A dead love whose heart he held in the highest regard. And of how we WOULD NOT be stopped.

Myth, legend, lore, fairy tales, and passion. Insanity incarnate, a madman to be sure. Cursed by the touch of a simple gold bracelet, a token of affection. The only living relic of a woman long dead. A relic that had caused much woe to those who had sought to take it from him. Their ignorance sealing their fate. Death, their ultimate reward.

Particular pains were taken by the thing they hunted for those who sought to relieve him of his one precious possession. Dismembered and mutilated corpses were all that remained, beyond recognition. A tiny trinket, apparently worth more than untold riches to this creature.

He seemed an easy mark. An uncaring, mostly unaware beggar of a man. Large in stature, but meek in demeanor. Ratty clothes, an unkempt beard and wild, greasy hair, his face nearly indistinguishable amidst all of the filth. Simple enough to toss an old vagrant. A mistake that many had made. A high price they paid for their poor judgement.

These small clues told a story of loss and of pain. A relatable tale, but unacceptable actions had been perpetrated in its name. The madness must have an end, lest the sane lose themselves to the futility of it all. Justice be done, one way or another. The riders would find him. Until then, there could be no rest.

. . .

Lights up ahead, a beacon in the dark of the night, flickering, warm. What was warmth? Warmth was her voice, embracing and caressing. She called to him, drawing him onward across a vast distance, from beyond the veil. There was a place where the veil split, and there he would find her. He was close now. So very close. Not far now, perhaps just beyond those lights. The lights that drew nearer. Things flickered in and out of the shadows the lights gave life to. Unimportant things, things that laid hands on him, persistent, annoying, grasping, clawing. But easily removed. He tore them from his person, flung them aside, cast them away from him so they would no longer rise to stop him. But they kept coming, again and again. This time with steel and pain. He swatted them away, repaying pain with pain. Bothersome nuisances, soon crushed beneath his heel. They would not stop him. And after a short while he left the lights behind him. Left them to watch over the broken figures whose cries carried on the wind, a low moaning wail that went unheard, unheeded, and faded as he continued on his journey. Bothersome things.

. . .

The commander grimaced as he laid his eyes on a familiar sight. Blood-covered bodies, the sundered walls of homes, wood and stone alike. There were men in the process of trying to remove what might be a corpse from the upper branches of a tree. More trying to dig someone out from beneath the rubble of a building, a man-sized hole gaping in its side. A vagrant had come through, an undesirable, and the Town Watch had tried to send him on his way. When he became unruly, help was called for. Then he went mad, no longer a vagrant, but a demon wearing a man's skin. A familiar story with a familiar end. There was nothing they could do, save waste time helping these unsuspecting people. But they had to move on. This meant they could catch him, he was close. And after some inquiry, apparently headed in the direction of a very dangerous place. A place no one went, out of superstition or respect. Legends told of an ancient ruin guarded by fearsome beasts in an inhospitable land. Some say it rested at the end of the world, others at a great cataract that split the earth and flowed with an entire ocean's worth of water. All agreed that it should be avoided, for dark things stirred there, and some things were better left to the unknown. A place of myth, where the souls of the dead were said to pass through. Perhaps this was his goal? It fit the murmurings they had caught from the beast previously. Curious. What waited for them there? He pondered this as they mounted-up once more. Regardless, they'd find out soon enough.

. . .

This was it. A blasted land with sparse, withered trees. Far in the distance, an edifice stood. There…she was there. Already he had been accosted by beasts of some unnamed origin. More resilient than he would have liked. Dangerous creatures that gave even him pause. But they would not stop him. Not this close to the end. If it took his dying breath, he would reach his goal.

. . .

They lost a man to the beasts of the land, one more added to the butcher's bill. The others were hurt, the commander included. He felt blood seeping into his boot from a wound in his side. But up ahead they could see him. They seemed too late to ever prevent him from tearing through any other settlements, a failure that weighed heavily on his mind. But he took a small comfort in that this place seemed uninhabited, save for the beasts that hunted them. They had already found the dismembered corpses of other things that had had the misfortune of stepping in their quarry’s way. They followed the blood until they were nearly upon him. He was a sight to behold, currently in combat with one of the twisted beasts that seemed to guard this land. He seemed torn to shreds, but, impossibly, he moved on. Relentless. An inhuman yell could be heard throughout the ruined expanse as he tore his opponent in half. Then without ceremony or a moment to rest, strode on. Ahead of them lay a cliff of sorts. If his eyes didn't betray him, there were steps carved into the living rock. Behind it the horizon seemed to fall away. With a reassuring word to his men they rode to close the distance.

. . .

No more obstacles lay before him. His pulse quickened and he grasped his delicate gold chain in his fist. Around him shadowy figures gathered, making nattering sounds. Easily ignored. Nothing mattered now, nothing save reaching that peak. One step after another, scaling the stairs laid before him. She was there. She was right THERE! My queen, my queen….

. . .

The commander warned his men to stay out of the beast's way. All attempts to converse were fruitless though. He mumbled under his breath, his gaze saw straight through them. The commander pleaded for some sort of explanation from him, but all he received were disjointed, incomprehensible, half-broken sentences. At a loss, he simply followed after, his men reluctant to engage regardless. This place felt wrong. They should not be here. There was a presence here that resided over the land. And he felt they were about to see it firsthand. As they approached the peak, the sound of roaring water could be heard.

. . .

There she stood, resplendent. An aura of power and beauty about her. Her arms were outstretched, a look of longing in her eyes. He lurched towards her, for once feeling true fatigue. He made it. He fell at her feet and looked up, desperate to witness her beauty once more, but all he saw was revulsion in her horror-stricken face.

. . .

It was unlike anything the commander had ever seen. After cresting the rise they had passed through a narrow passage, the ruins of what may have once been a temple. Beyond it lay a pavilion that ended abruptly, revealing a sheer cliff that fell away into an endless expanse of water. At the cliff’s edge the water flowed upwards, a waterfall reaching for the heavens. Night had fallen, but an otherworldly glow permeated the area, and within the writhing waters he saw the faces of those who had died. Those that he knew, who had given their lives on this horrible journey. Prostrate before the falls sat the thing that might have been a man, his arms reaching out as if in supplication. And in a voice obviously unused to speech, filled with grief and anguish, the commander heard him speak. A cry of disbelief, betrayal, and pain.

"Why my queen?!? No PLEASE!! I have served you, sought you out, loyal, diligent. Please!!! My only wish is to be with you. Everything I have done, I have done for you alone. All for you, only for you! My queen, do not forsake me!"

He heaved great sobs, and let loose a bellow that burned itself into the commander's memory. Never before, or ever again, would he hear such an embodiment of sorrow and rage. The man fell, as if dead, his body wracked with silent heaves. But a moment later, he bolted upright.

"Anything, my queen, anything please!"

The commander could not see anyone that he may have been speaking to, but let him be. A moment passed before the man seemed to claw at his skull and double over as if in pain, an animal growl emanated from him then abruptly stopped. Another moment, and then the man's gaze swung over to lock with the commander's own. What the commander saw there, chilled his spine, though he would never be able to define it. He felt as though he was witnessing something not meant to be seen. The man broke his gaze and stood.

"No...no...you've waited long enough, be free...my love. It is I who will now wait. Until then...my queen."

Then turning to the commander and his men, looking like a broken man, he said, "Leave. You have no place here. Do not return."

A million questions stormed through the commander's mind, but at his first breath, he was cut off.

"Go. You seek justice and punishment...you have it. My queen has shown me what I am, how you must see me, what I have done. I will remain here. As a lesson, as a testament to what a man can become. Learn from it. Others that come after will see. There may be no atonement for my actions. But for as long as it takes, I will pay. Maybe then one day...."

He looked to the sky and fell to his knees.

"My queen...."

In the swirling waters at the edge of the cliff, the ethereal bodies of the people the commander once knew, with what seemed like affirmation, acceptance, ascended and passed on out of view into the starry expanse above. What had held them there had seemed to pass. If the souls of the dead had their peace, then he could find it too. There was no point in risking another confrontation with this creature. Though he was plagued with doubt, and his curiosity tore at his very being, without a word, he and his men withdrew.

The journey back home was still difficult. He and his men rarely spoke. All were haunted by what they had seen. Their mission was ultimately a failure, but none had to know. Or perhaps that thing would now suffer a fate worse than they could ever have dealt him. They would never know. But one day they would all see the thing that might have been a man once again. Standing vigil over the dead. A guardian, serving penance. A warning to those who might be driven to obsession and madness in search of solace. Pitiful creature….