The Approaching Shadow: For the Honor (8th Entry)

[+Veritas]

Many years earlier...

After approaching the alter of her people’s kingdom, Branda, the young high guard trainee, lightly falls to her knees and bows her head with focused reflection.

“Oh great spirits of this world, I bow before you in search of wisdom and confirmation. I have lost sight of the reason behind the spilling of my blood and the blood of others. Honor? Duty to my kingdom? To continue the legacy of my uncle, the king? What has happened to my uncle? He worked my family, his own brother, to their death. What for? To dig below this foundation of stone, for an addition to the castle? I use to think this, until I started overhearing the stories. Everyone I have talked to says they have found nothing below this castle, at least nothing that can be explained rationally. Some hear voices. Some have been pulled out of the tunnels completely paralyzed by fear. Claims of the dead visiting the workers are becoming more and more common. These stories pass around the labor force, but are promptly muted by the soldiers that are loyal to the king. One man claimed to see a little girl down the hall of a long corridor. She called to him, saying “Don’t come down here daddy!” This sent him over the edge. The only child he had passed on shortly after childbirth. He hasn’t spoken a word for weeks now. There have been more than just bad omens due to the king’s efforts. The king isn’t preparing for an addition, he is searching for something. However, I am not entirely sure if what he is looking for eludes him. It’s like he digs with purpose.”

“Ever since our victory over Bael, the king has been acting reclusive and totalitarian. He hasn’t spoken to the people yet, and it has been six months after our victory. He always wears his helm where he goes, I haven’t seen his face since he delivered that so inspiring speech before the charge. His once impartial council is now submissive to his will. All bodies and systems of control we fought for that day six months ago, are now under his control….and his alone.”

“I am here now, scanning over the displayed icons of my kingdom’s virtues and plights. Which one best depicts me? Am I to be hateful of my kingdom? Perhaps ignorant of what I must do? I’d like to think I am honorable, or maybe wise. I am at least hoping for some wisdom, and clarity to what I have determined is the best course of action…what I am planning to do….what I must do.”

“To whoever is listening to my words, I demand to know if this was the plan from the very beginning. Was it preordained that my husband and daughter to become slaves to their flesh and blood? So many people lost everything. Was it fate that our kingdom fell this far into despair and injustice? If so, then I insist that my being here must also be fate. My access to the military planning quarters and the king’s room, must also be fate. My recent find, must also be fate. I can wait in the chamber and ambush my uncle. He wouldn’t suspect such an assassination attempt. He hasn’t even acknowledged my existence for some time now.”

“My great grandfather’s sword is now in my possession. How fortunate am I to have received such a family heirloom? Old and pitted with age and use, it still feels solid in my hand. But, perhaps the most intriguing attribute is its hilt. I remember when I was young, sitting on my great grandfather’s lap as he told me the story of making the blade.”

“My great grandfather, Arden, spent days and broke countless blades during his spare time from work, trying to make the perfect blade for himself. Since he was born with a bad leg, being a soldier was not a reality for him. He was assigned to apprentice work for the local blacksmith. He usually did easy patch work on armor and sharpening swords and spears. After experimenting with various heating techniques over the forge, he finished his first broadsword. It was bulky and undeniably unbalanced, but it was his best work and hard for him to discard. After finishing his project, he went on his usual walk through the woods to get home and get some sleep for the long work day tomorrow. That was the night he found the perfect piece of wood for his sword’s handle. He told the story like the piece of wood was wanting to be found, and no matter how many times his relatives laughed and gave him grief, he still enjoyed telling the story to my friends and I.”

“I inherited the blade when I stumbled over a loose floor stone in my late father’s quarters. After moving most of his belongings out, I came across the blade in the hidden floor space. It was wrapped in old cloth with a written message. It said, “For when all hope seems distant.” In a time where every single weapon is cataloged and accounted for by the king’s arms lord, an extra blade determines the upper hand. Even if such a blade is dull, rusted, and nearing fracture, it only needs to pierce the heart of one more person…”

Opening her eyes, the trainee rose to her feet and stood before the alter. She placed her hand over the head of the honor icon, and looked at her kingdom’s coat of arms…and said under her breath…

“May my actions echo throughout all eternity. If the fall of my kingdom is the price, then may the generations to come benefit and learn from our sacrifice, for they or their children will surely encounter the same evil. And may they rise and meet it with unrelenting and unflinching resolve...”

[Stay frosty...there is some movement in the Umbris Camp.]