Friar Greenmoore surveyed the end of the world with a slight frown. These odd buildings, strangely tall and thin-what was left of them. He imagined they might have had a beautiful grace to them, once...but this...
thing...had torn many of them down where they parted the sky. Or his mind warned, perhaps the race of Men did it themselves. What sort of magic could wrought such destruction? He did not want to know. There was no time to mourn, not for this world-and somehow, he also realized that there must have still been small pockets of beauty, even here, even now.
He would have liked to walk upon this world, speak the good word, bring Hope to the Hopeless.
Friar Greenmoore could hear nothing but the cold wind, and shivered. He stooped down, picked up...a paper, of some sort. There were many papers, blowing around-all of them with writing. He couldn't exactly read this one (the words seemed disturbingly thin and somehow alien to him, as if not done by Human hand), but the pictures were enough. World on Fire. Marching Solders. A man on a pedestal, gesturing wildly. The End...
He had heard the tape, and let the paper blow in the wind-no doubt placed there for their benefit, and had it not the intended effect? Had he not made the same vows, the same promises to his own daughter? For a moment, he imagined himself as that person...maybe, he became that person. Strange thoughts went through his mind...
Everything is gone...
My wife, my mother, my father, my brother.
My job, my car, my home? pitiful in comparison, a drop in the sea. It's all gone.
But...I still have my daughter. This miserable world has burned to a cinder, Humanity is nothing but dust in the wind-but she's still here with me. And that's all that matters. As long as I have this little bit of light. As long as I can hear her laugh-though she doesn't do that much anymore, it's amazing that she still can...and, the grief, the pain, the despair? I can take it. I can, for her sake. I can endure.
But...
When I face this thing-So'zar always lies-I know it's over. Everything. I can't stop it. No. Hopeless. I fire blindly-knowing in my logical thoughts, that this poor weapon shall not cleave his flesh, that I will miss, that I will die. For a moment I grow angry-my heart says, these are not my thoughts. He is old, but he is still flesh-and I am a good shot. My father taught me to shoot. But, So'zar always lies...and....
It's hopeless. My will breaks before him. He uses images from my past-makes me relieve every moment of pain. I see my brother, crushed against the steering column of our car. My wifes bone frail hand, holding mine as she withers from the radiation. And, this will keep going-until I give up.
Eventually, I do. My weapons are truly ineffective. I can't save her-I can't save myself. I can't save anyone.
God Forgive me.
There's not much of a struggle left. I try not to scream, for her sake...I know, maybe she can get away, but...
but...
I do. I scream, and So'zar screams with me. The last thing I see is his eyes-bored, hungry, still hungry...
A tear fell from Friar Greenmores eye onto the black stones that were the ground. He had never faced such an evil-the shock of it, beginning to erode the very stones that he had based his life upon.
He knew, this was world forsaken by God.
This was Hell.
And, who squatted on the remains....this beast. Tel'ars, he thought. A carrion bird, come to feed on the remnants of Humanity when it was weak. A pathetic King, squatting on a stolen throne. A liar...and in that lie, he was strong.
Greenmoore knew he would likely die here. Tel'ars was old, older than the stars-and to hope he had grown reckless after his long glut, was not likely. Yes, he would likely die. But not before giving the beast something to remember him by.
He spoke the words of his faith solemnly.
He asked for courage. He asked God to forgive the people of this world. He asked God for the strength to banish this darkness-or at least, to make sure his friends could escape, continue their quest.
Friar Greenmoore was afraid, though. Afraid Tel'ar would pluck his daughter-or, God no-his wife, from time or space. Bring them here. Hurt them. He was afraid that even thinking it might bring this into being.
He gripped his mace harder. No. He would destroy this thing before that happened. He reminded himself-the beast had brought them here, because...he couldn't come to them. It was not a God, not even close. Hope and faith, were power against his lies. In the end...this was just another monster.
And he would slay it, as he had done before. He caught a faint whiff from the scent of his crusaders vest-though, even know, it seemed to be fading. It reminded him of her.
Love. Hope. Faith.
Friar Greenmoore walked in shadows, but he felt the cross around his neck humming, and saw it glowing faintly.
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Topic: CvRTD Bonus: Turn 2: First Phase End (Read 48882 times)