Beckyann's war-cry echoed over the
battlefield as her runeblade came down, neatly carving one of the
ghouls in front of her to pieces. Behind her, her Knights charged
into the fray, cutting down several of the undead and sending the
rest reeling back. Although it was only a small pack of rogue
Scourge, it was never good to let them wander through the Plaguelands
as they could gather in larger numbers if allowed the chance and
create bigger problems. That was the purpose of her foot patrols
after all; to put an end to such threats.
The battle did not last long, with the
last of the roaming undead being cut down near the base of a hill.
Beckyann flicked gore from the tip of her runeblade before sheathing
it, nodding to her other Knights. Just as she was about to turn away,
she noticed a figure sitting on the hilltop above her, his form
planted on a rock outcropping that capped the incline. From where she
was standing, the man appeared to be older and wearing a full suit of
plate armor. Although she could not see the colors he wore, the white
and gold trim of his tabard immediately suggested he was an Argent
Crusader, and the mace that leaned against his perch did seem to glow
with a faint light.
Beckyann signaled to her men to wait,
making her way up the hill and towards the figure. She approached
cautiously, seeing up close that he was indeed an Argent Crusader and
possibly sixty or sixty-five years of age. He stared off into the
distance, and she cleared her throat before speaking so as not to
startle him, “Sir, are you alright?”
Pale blue eyes that had seen many
seasons turned to examine her. After a moment of silence he spoke,
addressing her politely even if there was a tone of pure exhaustion
in his words, “Yes, Lady Knight, I am alright I suppose. The dead
have not troubled me yet, much to my woe.”
Beckyann tilted her head, peering at
him intently, “To your woe? You wished them to come upon you then?
For what purpose?”
The man gave her a sigh, shaking his
head sadly, “I have fought for many years, Lady Knight. I have seen
much sorrow in my life. My family was taken from me by the Scourge
long ago, my homeland destroyed. Why, my daughter would be about your
age I would guess, although it is hard to tell as you are now. To put
it simply without any eloquence, I am tired. I wish to rest now. For
too long have I stared down the darkness. It has finally defeated
me.”
The sentiment surprised Beckyann, and
she found herself at a loss of words for a moment. Although she had
had moments of sorrow and despair as the man obviously was having,
deep within her was a fiery will that refused to surrender. Those
rare times where she had actually felt she was on the brink she'd
always had friends there to breathe more flames onto that fire.
Slowly she shook her head, speaking softly, “The world will always
have darkness in it. You must look towards what it is that you create
and protect, rather than what threatens to crush it.”
He smiled at her, his eyes sad, “You
are kind to say such a thing, Lady Knight, but my time has come. I
can go on no longer, and so here I will sit until death comes to
claim me.”
Beckyann nodded, not knowing what else
to say. She had to report back to Acherus with her patrol, and could
not linger, “Very well, sir, I will leave you to your thoughts for
now. May I return here though and speak with you again?”
He smiled, nodding, “It is kind of
you to offer to stay with me in my final moments. Return when you
can, although not too distant in the future, as the time draws near.”
With that, Beckyann nodded and then
turned and walked away, heading back towards her patrol.
*****************************************
She returned the following morning,
alone this time and bearing a pack on her back. He heard her armor
jingling before he saw her, his eyes already affixed on her as her
golden head peeked up over the edge of the hill line where she was
walking. She offered him a smile and a nod before moving to sit
across from him on one of the other boulders.
“And so you've returned,” he said,
studying her. “You make me curious as to what you hope to
accomplish. Given my desires, an emissary of death itself is an
unusual companion in these moments, although perhaps fitting.”
Beckyann smiled at him, setting the
pack down beside her, “We all feel as you do from time to time. I
remember keenly the moments when I felt such emotions. Without others
to stand beside us, we can falter sometimes. Perhaps you simply need
an ear to listen, or lips to speak of things that you question.”
The man tilted his head, blinking at
what she'd said, “I see. Well then, Lady Knight, there is perhaps
one thing that you can answer for me. I have always wanted to know
this. My wife...my wife and my daughter, both are lost to me for all
these many years. Is there a hereafter? Will I see them again? My
faith in the Light is strong, but I find in my final hours that I
question my course, question my faith. Do you know what happens to us
when we die?”
Beckyann's eyes widened in surprise,
and when she answered him her voice was distant, as if she was not
really speaking to him, “I...remember some things. I know...I know
that there is a place that we go. That the Light calls to us when
we...when you pass. I think....maybe I was happy there? Maybe I was
with those who were lost to me.”
She paused for a moment, her baleful
eyes locking with his, “I was torn from that place, so my memories
are dim and fuzzy. I do know one thing however; the Light does not
simply call to us all. We must earn our place there, be it through
our words and deeds or by paying for those things in which we have
failed. If you wish to see them again, you will remember this lesson
well; surrendering to despair will get you to them no more quickly
than living out the rest of your days.”
There was a deep silence for several
minutes as the man considered her answer. He had little reason to
question what she'd said; she had been through the pain of death
after all. The pain on his face was plain for Beckyann to see as he
looked down, his old eyes misty. After a time he composed himself,
staring hard at her, “Have you come then to torment me, to make me
feel terrible before I pass?”
Beckyann smiled at him, shaking her
head. With one foot she scooted the pack she'd been carrying over to
him, “Actually I came to bring you fresh water and jerky, so that
you will not be hungry or thirsty as you sit your vigil. Perhaps I
can convince you to change your mind, or perhaps not, but at least
you can pass with your weapon in hand, facing the darkness one last
time. I would envy you such an ending, for that option was taken from
me long ago.”
He blinked in surprise, looking down at
the pack, “I....well...thank you, Lady Knight.”
Beckyann nodded, still smiling as she
rose, “Think nothing of it. And please do eat and drink; you have
no idea how difficult it is to come across fresh food and water in
the Ebon Hold. These things were not easy to obtain. I shall return
again, hopefully to give you one last insight.”
He said nothing as he watched her walk
away, pondering what had passed between them.
**************************************
She returned one final time as the sun
was setting, this time surprising him a little because she was not in
her plate armor. Off-duty now, she was wearing one of her black
dresses with tinted glasses to hide the glow of her eyes. She carried
a case in one hand as she approached, the object causing his eyebrow
to arch in curiosity. She smiled at him as she sat on the rock across
from him, noting that the pack she'd left had been opened and seeing
the half-empty water skin sitting beside him.
“Good evening, sir,” She said
politely. “I wonder if you would allow me one final argument
against the course you've chosen.”
He smiled at her, nodding, “Yes, Lady
Knight, I will hear you speak again. I will admit that your company
has been rather uplifting over the past day and a half. It is
difficult to face the end, and having someone beside you means much.
It has been years since anyone paid heed to me in such a way.”
Beckyann smiled at him, reaching to
pick up her case as she spoke, “Well, I actually wish to show you
something rather than simply speak. I wish to give you an example.
You see, when you look at me, you see a tragedy. You see a bit of the
darkness that you have fought against. I wish to show you that even
in the blackest night there are things that can be good, that can
move you forward with the promise that one day there will be a better
tomorrow.”
With that she opened the case, removing
her violin from it. She applied rosin powder to the bow and she took
the instrument up, smiling at the surprise on his face. She began to
play, her first song a dirge for the dead, the sound hauntingly
beautiful but incredibly sad as it flowed over the slowly darkening
Plaguelands around them. He watched as she played, and she could see
the emotions on his face as the song touched him. She concentrated,
knowing that this performance was one of the most important she'd
ever done, even if he was the only one there to hear it.
As the first song came to an end, she
began to play another song, this one a more lively tune. When set to
words, it had been about a mighty hero and was a folktale of old
Lordaeron. Anyone who had once lived in the lands around them would
be familiar with it, and she could see the corners of his mouth lift
into a smile as he recognized the tune. She could see his eyes take
on a distant look as he recalled the heroics of the main character
that the song told of, and she watched as his hand tapped the rhythm
of the song on his knee.
As that song came to a close,
Beckyann's final piece was one she'd strategically selected.
Heartrendingly familiar, she began to play Lordaeron's anthem with
her violin, the song surrounding two former citizens of that nation
and moving both. She could see the tears in his eyes as she played
it, and she continued on, resolute in her mission.
The anthem was a dangerous thing to
play in the Plaguelands at night. The dead remembered something of
what they were once, or at least an echo of it. The ghouls and
zombies that wandered through the twisted forests would be called by
such an aching reminder of their lives, something that they couldn't
touch and would want to stamp out to ease the pain. As she played,
Beckyann could feel some of them gathering around the edges of the
hill in the darkness, could feel their hatred bathing the two figures
on the rock outcroppings.
She continued to play, even as the dead
moved towards them, knowing that she had to finish for his sake,
knowing that she had to remind him of who they were and what they
could still accomplish. Lordaeron was dead, but the spirits that
drove her survivors was not, and even in undeath Beckyann felt her
emotions stirred by the song.
The undead came for them quickly,
launching themselves up the sides of the hill, claws extended as they
prepared to rend Beckyann to shreds to put a stop to the torment that
her song gave them. Even as the anthem came to an end, shadows leaped
at them, and she prepared herself for battle.
The first ghoul to land beside her
reached out to grab her violin and was met with a glowing white mace
to its face. Holy Light flared, illuminating the hilltop as the old
man took up a position over Beckyann, his weapon flashing again and
again. In the darkness, undead howled and perished under his skilled
blows, his faith guiding his hand and filling his heart once more.
When it was over, he stood over her,
looking down at her in surprise, his weapon still glowing and his
chest heaving to catch a breath and with the emotions that had
overtaken him. Around them lay the corpses of dozens of the undead,
their forms finally put to rest by his righteous fury. Beckyann
remained in her place, having never had to lift a finger to aid him,
not even a single stand of her golden hair out of place as she smiled
up at him. She spoke in a low voice as she began to put away her
violin, “And now you see that there is still heart within you, that
there is still something worth fighting for. In years to come, maybe
no one will remember this moment, maybe this particular battle will
not have counted for much, but you will look back on it and know that
it meant everything, that you stood for the spirit of what was, and
what can be again.”
As she rose with her violin case in
hand, the man saluted her and then dipped his head low, his voice
full of emotion, “Thank you, Lady Knight. For showing me that there
is still life left in these old bones. I will not forget you, or your
song. I will tell my wife and child of it one day, a day that will be
far from now when my time actually does come.”
She smiled, nodding and turning to walk
away, her tone happy, “May that be a distant point in the future
sir, Light bless you.”
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