I'm not annoyed at you but...it took me three lifetimes to be able to arrive on the frosted shores of the far north so the fact you made it one will annoy me...It definitely will but hells I know you'll make it. This tale is of the first of the dead, the most powerful and deadly of them but with a heart of silver, pure, noble, true but…very cold.
I remember first seeing this lord of light enter the arena of battle. A legion of fallen angels by his side before his inevitable true death, his last death. I remember thinking he was some kind of Gollum as he stormed the battlefield, taking scores of men at a time. the holy light carving a path for his conquest, before stopping at me. I never knew someone could be this feral with the touch of a god but power...power can do that.
This warrior of light, saw for the first time the power of his god, failing to crumple before me. Usually that is enough to make a man question his faith, but this Gollum of a man ran at me leaving army's behind him, charging with only a blade and the rage of a titan in his soul. The battle was fierce even though his godly powers were of little use, that did not stop him...no instead it fuelled his resolve to kill me. His weapon breaking and bending till it was nothing more than a hilt with a jutting shard of metal. I was almost scared for the first time in a long time. In my many lives the look of those piercing green eyes will burn in my memories of war forevermore.
It was just the two of us, the battlefield ablaze with holy flames. The remnants of our forces leaving us to see what arose from that bonfire. The feeling of staring death in the face was something I've faced many times. But this time he could see me. A strange feeling, Once more in a final push we clashed as the light of his god faded. I left that day, the ashes of death all around me as I continued my endless existence. The memory of that battle...one I wish to forget as time passed, lives rebuilt and the tragedy of that day had faded. The winner began, bringing, a tapestry of chaos with it. It's hallucinogenic colours were an omen, one that you should avoid. As the winners' long days began to stretch, the seas froze as the long march of the dead began, the vagrants of the past, bringing vengeance, plagues, mercy and justice, these four bringers of pain strode the lands laying everything low as they drove away the light.
The world was a cold place. The forest strangled life out from mortals, the desert of nourishment, there was no respite or reprieve for the souls that still clung on. But then from the wastes of what was left, new sparks were forged, a piece of a profaned flame, one that would burn away the infection. I knew what that meant at the time...I didn't really have much of a choice even now with more time under my belt and much more to go by the looks of things. I'll tell you now. I make the same choices if i have too. But never mind I would continue.
I took the elderly and any one old enough to carry a blade and set out in to the almost black night the chaos above. Driving the young to madness and the old into a state of shock. Before the flame burned them away into nothing as their corrupted feeling became fuel to the flame, I dragged the ragged warriors through the sea, the flame never far behind leading a trail through the snow, one of bright flames that could be seen bringing a new dawn to the world.
We walked for days. Only taking short breaths for rest as the flame continued enveloping those that fell behind. The enveloping glow of the flame made the chaos above and we saw it. A night of silver, an unending sea of the dead behind him and a tattered hilt in his hand. The petty remains for soldiers I had readied for the end. As a legend of the living fought the dead the profaned flame, burning all that remained till it was just me and him on a battlefield of broken ice. A boiling sea and body's of the damned burning bright, not even the power of vengeance, plague, mercy and justice meant nothing to us. This was a fight one to see who would outlast the other.
I breathed out one last time as the ice that remained became nothing but slushy ash and body's. There was little grace in what we did, just slugging at each other till there was little left. He cut and stabbed me countless times and the same for me. I broke and tore his armor and bones. I can see these bloodshot green blue eyes as he pinned me, shoving me deep into the sluggy water. The remains of our army's entered my mouth as he strangled me under the water. I could see my blood mix into the ocean as his blade leapt into my throat. I lost all ability to move. The last thing I remember is that life was the flames covering the plane above as the bottomless oceans embraced me. Dying in its endless abyss.
Well if you are reading this you are standing on the ashes of one of my failures but a victory in a way, I'll tell you sacrifice is always required, in the pursuit of peace you will always give up more than you gain. But rest for now the flame should still be around even today make these people forced sacrifice and vigour your next journey.
-Signed Perry Lakefield