Engraving

Redemption is found hidden in the oddest places

Alone. It’s a scary thought, isn’t it? Of all the l words in our language, I believe I hate it the most. It’s frightening, being left to your own devices in an unknown place, surrounded by hundreds of faceless people. It tears away at everything you are; everything you would eventually become.

            The thing is, none of us like it. Sure, we deal with it when we know there’s a light at the end. But without that bright flash of something, what do we become? Would it be possible to keep who we are and be able to hide some part of us someplace untouched until we can escape the darkness?

            If I could, I’d like to say something everyone would remember. Freeze a part of me into time. Be able to look back and make it a part of myself again. Will I accept it as my own? Could I recognize it as mine, and mine alone?

            My biggest fear, and perhaps the most unreasonable, is changing so much I will never be me again. The demon staring back in the shallow pool might be evidence enough. These hollow, sunken orbs cannot belong in place of my bright sparkling eyes?

            Those horrid scars covering my once smooth skin – they’re not mine. There’s no way they belong to me. I try closing my eyes.

            I find the image is burned into my eyelids. Every waking moment I’m reminded of what I’ve let myself become. Other faces lurk beneath the surface, waiting to join in the morbid chorus.

            Half of them I recognise. The other half I do not supply horrifying images. Surprisingly, I’m in most of them, yet I do not remember.           Did I really swing my sword towards them? Against people I cannot recall a name for?

            More troubling would be the blood. I can’t seem to get it off. My hands, once so calloused and proud seem to have been washed smooth by the crimson flow. Never before have they been this soft.

            I almost throw up when the reason comes to me. They’re clean. The men whom I impaled upon cold metal were unarmed. All my training, years of practice, meant nothing now. They couldn’t, not after ridding the world from nothing. How long had I been doing this?

            It would have been better without me. I suppose it would have been curiosity that got me looking back into the crystal clear water. What had I become?

            My eyes narrow into slits as I use the makeshift mirror to glare at myself. The area around me seems to shrink, leaving me alone in an area too small for my frame. It hurts to breathe. I begin to struggle a breath into my lungs.

            It’s odd, I can’t help but think. Even with all my self-loathing I can’t bring myself to end it. With what I’ve become, what I’ve turned into, I thought it would have made me happier. Do I fear death?

            I remember hearing about how there is no honour among thieves and wonder if it’s the same for killers. No, killer is too gentle, murderer. It sounds more fitting. It’s probably worse I realize. I shouldn’t even have a soul.

            I shouldn’t even be here. What happened to the bold innocence I used to possess? I suppose it is with my sense of right and wrong. Perhaps it ended up beside me humanity or across from my honour.

            My hands reach for the dagger at my belt of their own accord. I can’t say I did anything to stop them. The small blade seemed to glow in the scarcely lit cavern.

            I had found my light.

            All it took was a well placed blow to the wrist. I could not hurt anymore. The nearest town and the one after could probably hear my howls of pain. It was like nothing I have ever felt before, nor would have a chance to feel again.

            The blood seemed to make its way everywhere, seeping into my very core. I’m not so delusional as to believe that poor hack made it all the way through, severing my main hand. It took some effort, but I managed to get the hilt into my weak grasp.

            I only managed a small wiggle before the edges of my sight went black, blurring my sense of reality. A silver shimmer caught my eye. Carved into the wicked tool was one word. Remember.

            I did.

            The water rushed up impossibly fast to meet me. And it was there I found my own peace.