To The Blank Page

“We met under such inauspicious circumstances. I hated him, and I don’t doubt he hated me. Somehow, that hatred turned into something more powerful than either of us could imagine or understand. On a Quest as we were, they said we were fools to be in love. At least, that is what they said to my face and behind his back.” A sad chuckle escaped her then as memories of times forgotten returned to her.

“There was no helping what was happening between us. It was no affliction, there was no cure. Like a falling drop of rain there was only one ending to our story. At the time I did not know this. It wasn’t until after the dust had settled, until after the battle was over; dazed as I was, stumbling about the battlefield in search of him, ignorant to the injured that stretched their hand out towards me begging for healing; it wasn’t until then that I discovered his true destiny.”
Her voice broke as tears began to fall down her face. She could not stop the flurry of emotion and instead opted to place her head upon the lectern, her body racked with passing sorrow. One of the Companions placed his hands on her, attempting to guide her away where she could mourn in privacy but she instead pushed him away.

Her emotions momentarily controlled, she continued, “Eventually, I found him. He was surrounded by so many dead I couldn’t help but be proud, even in the face of what I feared most. I walked up to him and fell upon my knees and I lifted his head and placed it upon my lap. I studied him; unlike I’d ever been able to look upon him before. In that moment of pure sorrow, where tears cannot yet express the heart, I looked upon him with such ferocity that his face shall forever remain in my mind.”

Anger strengthened her resolve and sustained her as she pushed herself to continue. “The Creature, the foe for which this war began, lay dead yards away. I could feel the force of my magic gathering itself and yet I could not recall summoning it. A beam erupted from my outstretched hand and tore the monster asunder. Its carcass withered to dust under the incredible force. No longer fortified by the ephemeral power, the magic subsided and my tears finally broke. Like the breaking of a damn there was no holding it back. I placed my head on his chest and wept. I hated myself for not having been there to see him die. Not out of some macabre desire, but because I could have taken his place. I could have spared myself the heartbreak. In that moment of sorrow I was selfish. He was stronger than I am, he was my hero, and he could survive his heart…”

The tears seemed too much to hold back. She stood in place her head wagging left to right trying to stop the tears. “He could have survived his heart being broken into so many pieces.” Her anguish was yet sated as the tears streamed down her face with renewed vigor. Only out of a desire to finish her eulogy was she able to continue. “He was my all, all that I have ever known of love. He died a hero in service to this country. Through my grief I hope that you can understand his sacrifice. He died a hero, he died for love of you, and he will be missed.”

“You don’t expect me to do this, do you?” Tears threatened at the corner of Pierre’s eyes as the memory of his loss returned to him. His superior’s audacity only spurred his anger, the last fortification against his grief. He looked down in disbelief at the assignment he had been given.

“We’ve known for quite some time that you have been visiting her Pierre. You’ve become enslaved by the very revenant we fight to expel. She is but a pale shadow of your wife, you must see this. You must let her go.”

“I can’t lose her, not again.” His anger faltered, his superior’s words were too infallible to refute. He had to let her go, and the only way to do it would be to Reave her ghost.

“By allowing her to haunt, you dishonor her memory and condemn her to Purgatory. Help her find her way to peace Pierre. I know you can.”

His resolve broke, the tears began to fall like the soldiers of his anger, tossed from the ramparts to meet their death, the final bastion overrun by the warriors of his grief. His superior wrapped her motherly arms around him and spoke into his ear. “You couldn’t be there for her when she died Pierre. As a Reaver, you can help guide her soul to its resting place and bring closure to the wound in your heart. This is your second chance.”

What she said was true. It did not however, stop the tears.

I used to be very lonely,
and always afraid of the dark.
I used to have bad night terrors,
of frightful monsters lurking near.
Their breath held the stench of my fear.
As a child, I always fed them,
while cowering under the sheets.
That is when I learned to escape.

At night, while lying in my bed,
I would lift off, crash through ceiling,
after ceiling, after ceiling,
through to the top of the building,
until I was held high above
by stray gusts; watched by blinking stars.
I would find solace in the breeze,
so high no creature could reach me
but the birds and mighty dragons.

The din from the streets below would
sing their ghetto lullaby, and
the moon would gently tuck me in.
And then, as I drift off to sleep,
the bed would slowly descend; down
through the top of the building, down
through ceiling after ceiling, and
finally back into my room.

The fear of night ignored… for now.