Role

Chapter 2

As the years wore on the threshold of her mind wore thin. Every insult, every ill-inspired
mockery stripping away at her ego until only the strained strands of sanity she clung
desperately to remained, for there is nothing more fragile than an insecure mind mired in
delusion. And there is nothing quite so dangerous as an animal backed into a corner.

Late into the night Stahl awoke to the trundling cacophony of footsteps bounding toward his
bunk. Lillya had fled the keep but not before scattering the cranial pulp of a fellow initiate
across the halls with a heavy torch sconce. Stahl was the first to be questioned by the guardsmen
because of their bond. He knew exactly where she would be found, feigning ignorance in the hope
cooler heads would prevail. The night grew weary and as the guardsmen exhausted all their
leads he stole into the night, headed for a secluded grove connected to the underbrush surrounding
the keep. A childish memory and a shared retreat from the existenial threads of life were a soothing
balm that this small clearing had always promised the two of them. And there he found her,
within the quiet repose of the pale moonlight cast upon them.

Mingling with the dim washed-out tones of night an efferfescent fluid poured from her gut, souring
the soil beneath her. The guardsmen of the keep were capable of repelling an imperial siege in their
own right and though an animal she may have been she was still just a child, it showed in the
hesitation of her wounds. Shallow blood-ridden trenches marred her porcelain skin. Given time and in
more capable hands she would surely recover. Time however was not a luxury they were afforded.
Very little of the friend he had shared his happiest days with remained, a writhing mass of flesh
and blood cradled in his arms, frail and helpless. Her eyes fixated intently on the empty void of
the night's sky.

Before the dwindling hours of the night every painged ounce of his humanity longed to save her.
His resolve was strong, stronger than it ever had been. A voice spoke out from the darkness.
It did not belong to the ones who would wish her dead, the voice came from within, his own reason.
In what way did he intend to save her? Her body may be healed but the mind is broken. If he
protected her from this death now, what then? There is no alternative for the men of the keep than
to kill her, no matter their reluctance. Or would he condemn her to a life of desperation, forever
hiding from the sin she committed? His eyes felt heavy and his muscles seemed to drain of their
strength. As the voice faded from his mind he laid her back down on the soft grass at the base of
the tree. He knew the course of mercy, he knew how painful it would be to save her. He truly loved
as it was. He felt the dampness of her tear stained face and his own. He could feel how fragile her
neck was as he laced his fingers around it.


(Continued.)