The Easiest Decision She Ever Made

By: Pantalaimon Posted on: June 27, 2004

A recent journey to the soul realm provided me with the chance to speak with several souls before they completed the transition to their final resting-place. One such soul went by Ryak in life and he is notable for the help he requested form me. He felt that the latter part of his life needed to be shared with Sapience, and who was I to deny him this? So, without further adieu, I present The Easiest Decision She Ever Made.

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I was relaxing in my favorite little grove in the Black Forest. I didn't own a grove seeing as I was a Dawnstrider at the time, but I found it was a nice place to lick my wounds after the boars took a run at me and the solitude made it great for contemplating the day's experiences. That very day I had slain a boar in one fell swoop, my dirk finding the sweet spot on its throat, toppling the beast, but not before one of its wicked tusks bore deep into my arm. I was so proud of my accomplishment; I kept running the scene through my mind so I would never forget.

To be honest, my "favorite little grove" was actually just the only unimprinted grove in the forest. It was a wonder it hadn't been imprinted though. There were the three towering oaks, the numerous stumps and decaying logs ideal for a rest, the sporadic grass dotting the dirty ground like patches on a Savannah cow, and the moss covered rocks sending you sprawling if your feet did not find them right. Come to think of it, I really wasn't surprised it wasn't imprinted. But I had the audacity to call it my own, my unique little home away from home.

As I sat lapping at my wound with my rough tongue, the wet fur matting into a tangled mess, the taste of iron filing my mouth, the sky let out an ominous rumble, drawing my attention to the mounting storm in the north. Lightning flashed violently on the horizon, creating a continuous rumble like a great hoop drum.

Then, like a kitten's meow amidst howling dogs, her voice floated on the strengthening wind.

"Hey there sweet heart, would you like to go somewhere less likely to be burnt to the ground? Well, but lightning at least."

She twisted the words as if trying to arouse some hidden knowledge within me.

I had always found myself attractive, not to be vain, and my opinion was often reinforced by the actions of the womenfolk. My unextraordinary chestnut fur did nothing to make me stand out, yet for some reason I was always catching someone's eye. In hindsight, I wish I had looked like the slugbeast.

As I turned to put a face to the enchanting voice, I was assaulted by a vile creature lurking about before it disappeared behind a tree making way for the red clad figure lurking in the lengthening shadows. Her full length red cloak did nothing in the way of avoiding attention, and as she approached I could see the snow white fur peaking out from beneath the drooping hood. Padded feet bringing her closer, she pulled the hood back to reveal the crimson red streaks flowing back along her head.

"Well, are you coming with me or are you going to brave that storm out here on your own?"

Her beauty hypnotized me. I wanted to at on every suggestion she made, so I answered her the only way I could: "Yes."

"Okay… seeing as you can't make up your mind, I'll do it for you. You're coming with me."

It was as if I had been waiting my whole life to hear those words. I rose from the crumbling log, my wound all but forgotten as I fell into step behind this mystery woman. Tall trees and bazaar mushrooms composed the first part of our journey along with the occasional sentient tree. None of the things even crossed my mind as we traveled down the Prelatorian highway. All I could think about was the woman, her cloak billowing majestically in her wake. The next leg of our journey was filled with men looking for their daughters, well, one at least; mountain peaks and passes; and the infamous red fog. On the last portion of the journey we found ourselves amidst pike bodies, strange glyphs, and the towering gates of a city entrance. Finally, we reached the end of our journey. It could have taken hours or days, I'm not even sure. The storm might have been over before I arrived at this place of refuge. None of that mattered though. I would have followed her for years to be with her in the magnificent garden.

We sat not on felled trees, but upon intricately carved stone benches complete with daemonites as legs. There were roses, irises, freesias, carnations, sunflowers, and lilies all arranged into their own groups, yet still intermingling. Stone paths lead deep into the garden to destinations unknown, curving behind tall shrubbery and out of sight. A tower of elemental ice stood partially hidden in the corner, the connection between a garden stocked with elemental ice and a necromantic owner completely slipping my mind. We stayed in the garden for a week, all other duties completely erased from my thought. I hung on every word she said and tried to impress her with my heroic stories, the most prized of which was my short-lived battle with the boar. Coincidentally, that was the only true story.

At the end of the week, I was madly in love with Ema. I had found that was her name. I had never felt this way about anyone, let along so strong and so fast. To make matters even better, before I left on the last night she proposed. I agreed; perhaps a bit too quickly, but that didn't matter because I was going to marry the most wonderful woman in Sapience.

***

We had to keep out engagement secret. Ema was Mhaldorian and I was Shallamese. I had a huge decision ahead of me, so I headed to Shallam to consult with my mother. She was a proud member of the Priests and an upstanding member of the Church. I was nervous about speaking with her about my problem because the solution I was hoping for was not one I expected my mother to agree with. As I approached Shallam, all the wicked stories my mother had told me about the "vile Mhaldor" came rushing back to me. Looking back on it, there were probably as many true stories there as when I told Ema about my heroic deeds. Pushing the stories out of my mind, I cam to my mother's quaint cottage where I was greeted by her angel.

"Finally decide to come visit your mother, Ryak?"

"Not you too." I grumbled as I made my way into the cottage.

Before even rounding the corner into my mother's room, the complaining began: "Where have you been, Ryak? You didn't go off and get married did you?"

I found her sitting upon a large cushion, just finishing her morning prayers.

"Actually, that's what I'm here to talk about."

The complaining instantly ceased making way for the loving, caring mother I had come to see. She was always very critical about my life, especially when she wasn't a large part of it. But I knew she always wanted the best for me, and that gave me hope that she could help me. I explained my predicament to her, having to choose between my standing loyalties and true love.

"Dear, do you remember when I told you that your father died before you were born?" I nodded slowly, unsure what this had to do with Ema. "Well, that wasn't entirely true. Actually, it wasn't true at all. He's still alive today, living in Ashtan. You're father is an Occultist." I sat in confused silence until she continued. "I fell in love with your father. There was no way any of my affiliations would have accepted or even allowed our relationship to exist. We saw each other secretly for nearly a year, but then I discovered I was pregnant. As people began realizing that you were beginning to form inside me I was assaulted with questions of your father, mainly who he was. The more I swore not to tell the more people kept an eye on my actions. With all the nosy people in Sapience one was bound to see your father and I together. And people aren't stupid. They would have noticed the connection between my pregnancy and a mysterious lover. I decided to break it off, choosing to bend to the will of others instead of following my heart."

"So you think that is what I should do? It seems to have worked out well for you. I mean, you're a guild secretary now and no one has a clue about your past." Somehow, I harbored no resentment for the lies she had fed me. She was just protecting herself and me to some extent.

"That is not at all what I meant. One of the reasons I was even noticed and considered for the secretary position was my diligent praying and worship of the Gods. Just before I was approached for the position I locked myself in a room for three days. Everyone believed it was to purge myself of evil and to cleanse my soul. Truth be told, I spent those three days contemplating my leaving your father. I decided it had been the wrong decision and I was planning on saying my farewells and leaving everything behind, but when I emerged from the room I was offered the secretary position. Maybe I was weak from the lack of food and sleep or maybe it was the will of the Logos, but I accepted the position and duty once again pushed my personal desires aside. Maybe someday I will have the courage to do what is right."

"So you regret your decision?"

"Every day, Ryak. Don't make the same mistake I did. Follow your heart."

Having found the reassurance I so desired, I bade my mother farewell and left to change my life.

***

After composing a few farewell letters and coming in contact with a few well-placed people, namely Certimene and a helpful Mhaldorian, I found myself a citizen of Mhaldor and the newest member of the Naga.

"Ema, I am yours!" I cried as I burst into her garden. She nodded knowingly, winking a beautiful eye as she spread her arms, directing my gaze to the expertly crafted gazebo at her side. The deep, red wood was carved into an intricate mural, each of the four columns depicting a distinct period in our lives. The first column was composed of the two of us, younger, our backs turned towards each other, unaware of the other's existence. The next column showed us face to face as I slipped a ring onto her delicate finger. The third column was the two of us again, but this time Ema cradled an infant in her arms. The final column displayed us aged, but content, lying down for our final sleep. She glided into the gazebo, beckoning me to the place beside her where I promptly found myself situated. My mother, standing before us in ceremonial robes, winked conspiratorially at Ema.

"Ema thought it would be nice if I were to wed the two of you. She contacted me shortly after you left and I took a little short cut to beat you here. Does that about cover it?"

I stood in disbelief, amazed at my wonderful fiancee and surprised that my mother had set foot within Mhaldor. I would recount the rest of the wedding, but I cannot taint this tale with the foul lies I was fed, nor can I manage to speak the vow I promised unto Ema, for they have since been shattered and relieved of their very meaning.

I was in truly high spirits after the wedding though. Things had never been better and they didn't look like they would stop getting better any time soon. Ema had apparently escorted my mother through Mhaldor, as she never would have gone alone, but my sweet Ema made no move to escort my mother back out of Mhaldor. Surely just an oversight I thought, and offered to lead my mother to the highway. As much as I wanted to stay with my lovely bride, I could tell that was how afraid my mother was of traveling through Mhaldor alone. She had made a great effort to be there for me and I was not about to let that kindness go unnoticed, so I promised Ema a hasty return and left beautiful garden with my mother in tow

We quickly sensed that something was awry. The streets were flooded with citizens and guards alike, all rushing toward the city's gates. I could tell my mother was worried, but I severely misunderstood the cause. I believed it was just anxiety of being in the city, when anyone with half a brain, like a troll, could have correctly identified it as combat anxiety. I, with my gross misunderstanding, pushed on until we arrived at the gates. My mother's feelings instantly made sense, my own ignorance slapping me in the face. The scene at the gates was one of pure chaos. Vibrations shook the very earth as angels struggled with baalzadeen. Daeggers sped through the air amidst the metallic sounds of Paladin's clashing with Maaldathi. Sentinels, their visages blurred by the spirits dwelling within them, called forth ferocious animals that searched the shadows for hidden Naga. The skeletal Lich Lords moved in unaffected by the melodious songs of the Bards, for without ears how can you hear? The Minister of Security stood atop a tall embankment, issuing orders to the guards as to whom should be the target of their wrath. I took a pinch of diamond dust from a pouch and sprinkled it over my mother, intent on protecting her from the ensuing massacre. But as she faded out of sight a horrid image befell my eyes: the back half of an arrow's shaft floating in the air before me. A muffled cry pierced through my senses as blood began materializing from what seemed to be thin air and even amidst the hectic battle clamor I could hear my mother's corpse smash into the merciless ground. As I looked up, I saw a Naga assassin grin at his success before disappearing into the increasing turmoil.

Carrying the invisible corpse back to Ema's garden, I probably appeared to be doped up on gleam, hobbling about with my unseen impediment. That was of no consequence though for my thoughts had all been pushed aside to create a void so as to avoid accepting my mother's death and my responsibility thereof. Making it back to my wife, more quickly than intended, I broke down in tears as she cradled my frail body. I convulsed violently as the grass beside me became stained with blood and right there I vowed to avenge my mother.

***

I followed silently behind Ema as we entered the hall, my anger barely masked by the more potent sadness. Two lycopods were potted adjacent the door, swaying in time to the rhythmic music pervading the hall. The room was teeming with Mhaldorians; the tables lined with delicacies from all across Sapience. Jovial cries were lifted high into the ceiling as ale lined the guts of many. My dear Ema was a rather well respected citizen of Mhaldor and as such I slipped to the back of her mind as she was pounced upon by old friends and young admirers alike. Left in her wake, I made my way to a quiet corner away from the hustle and bustle of the nights events. I kept an eye on her, amazed at her poise and the respect she commanded even from her superiors. It made me wonder how I could have been so lucky as to win her heart. My eyes drifted away from her as I became enthralled in my thoughts and I suddenly found myself staring straight into what I believed was the heart of evil: the Minister of Security. A tall platform stood raised above the rest of the hall with a long table situated atop it. At the table sat the entire ruling council of Mhaldor: Tyrannus through the Minister of Development.

The Tyrannus stood, calling the hall into a semblance of order. "Tonight we are to honor our new Minister of Security!" he announced, although everyone already knew the reason for the banquet. "His new defense plan has led us into a new era of security, the recent raid resulting in fewer casualties than ever before!"

The hall was set ablaze with clapping, hooting and hollering, and the occasional whistle as the Minister of Security bowed humbly. I do not know what the rest of the Tyrannus' speech entailed for the rage welling up within me kept me in another realm entirely. I do know what I did though. With the help of my trusty diamond dust I faded out of view, none of the speech engrossed zombies noticing a thing.

Making my way up to the stage I was like a horse with blinders on, tunnel vision setting in and directing me to my target. The Minister of Security was all I could focus on, he was the only thing that mattered. He had issued my mother's death, my poor, innocent mother, and I was not about to go back on my vow of revenge. I stood silent, invisible, behind the Minister waiting the perfect moment to strike. And there it was: the Tyrannus called for a speech from the Minister. He took center stage and reveling in his ego outstretched his arms to encompass the room, soliciting a torrent of cheers. As he opened his mouth to speak, words did not come out, but instead he covered the podium with blood. The crowd let out a horrified gasp as the Minister began gasping for air; his lung, pierced by my dirk, incapable of sustaining breath.

He wasn't a successful security minister for nothing though, and as he took his last failed attempt at a breath, his guards were all over me. I should have thought about life vision, but rage tends to leave reason behind. Triumph flooded my mind as the hilt of a sword found the back of my neck, rendering my unconscious.

***

I sat in the putrid darkness shivering from the frozen air coursing along my now hairless body. The guards had shaved me clean, reducing me to the level of a newborn. Even though no one could see me, I had never been more embarrassed. As I rubbed my arms in a poor attempt at creating some semblance of heat, I noticed the strange protrusions. Dismissing them as goosebumps at first, logic forced its way into my mind and I realized these were no goosebumps. Moving from my arms, I found the strange protrusions covering my entire, naked body. Unable to comprehend their purpose or origin from mere touch, I resolved to enter the light. The door to my cell had a small opening, which I took to be a viewing window of sorts. Two bars marred the square of light, painting three streaks of light on the floor of my cell. Afraid to see my hairless body I had shied away from the light, treating it like a dose of voyria. But the protrusions peaked my curiosity. I was feared I would go mad if I did not find out what they were. So I made my way into the light, only to find myself reading Sartanic Truths branded into my white flesh. Branded upside down on my stomach was the first truth of Sartan: what is called evil is simply the drive for advancement, for greatness. We seek, through discipline and pain, to spur the advancement of nothing less than sentient life. My right bicep told me that cruelty - the application of pain - is the method by which one weeds out the weak and feeble-minded from the population and my left would not let me forget that weakness must be eliminated in all its forms: physical, mental, and spiritual. My forearms reminded me that the enemies of strength are those who trumpet the effeminate values of forgiveness, tolerance, and laxity of discipline and that the mind may be made stronger through the elimination of conscience. One does this by inflicting pain on others. My legs shouted that the spirit may be made stronger by enduring hardships, both self-imposed and externally imposed and that the body may be made stronger through combat. As I rose my hands to cover my eyes from the monstrosity I had become, two hideous demons leered sinisterly from my palms. Overwhelmed, I fainted.

***

Most of the guards ignored me, recognizing my existence only long enough to throw in the occasional scrap of food. One guard thought it fun to give me grass which I would devour hungrily, yet that proved to be a fruitless exercise as I would end up emptying the meager content of my stomach onto the cell floor. I was not afforded the luxury of a cup either; the guards simply poured water through the window for me to lap off the ground.

One guard was kind to me though, providing me with the sentient interaction I craved. "You were married for one single day and look where that got you. Lord Sartan was right, love is for the weak."

Outraged, partly from his comment, yet mostly just expressing repressed anger, I growled at the man. "At least I have a wife who loves me. She will be there for me when I get out of here."

The guard laughed heartily, making me uneasy. "I suppose you didn't hear, being locked up in here and all. Ema publicly renounced your marriage the day after your rampage."

Dumbstruck, I slouched down further into my dark corner, all my rage replaced by grief. She had divorced me?

"You didn't think love would be enough for her to stay married to a traitor, an enemy of Mhaldor, did you?"

And then, like a tigress imposing her will unto her cubs, her voice came. "I would come visit him though. And you shouldn't be talking to the prisoners, be gone."

After what felt like a lifetime of imprisonment, the jangling of keys was the most magnificent sound I had ever heard. The door swung open and Ema entered the cell, the same fiery red cloak as when we met billowing out behind her.

Hiding in the corner, afraid to show my mutilated body, my hope formed itself into words. "You… you just divorced me for looks, right? You still love me, don't you?"

"Ryak, you knew how loyal I was to Mhaldor. I cannot forgive you for your crimes."

My hope sputtered out like a candle thrown to the sea. She approached my dark corner, pulling me up to stand before her. Then, plunging a clawed hand into my chest, she ripped my heart out, splattering blood all about the room. She leaned in, close to my ear, as my grasp on life weakened and whispered: "You've lost my heart, but I will always have yours."

***

I have spent years now in the soul realm, unable to complete my transition of death. The words of the two women I loved most in life trap me here. I must wait for Ema to meet her end for as she said, she would always have my heart; and my mother, with a rather unfortunate choice of words, told me to follow it.