“Come to me, Sir Gwaine,” rasped the faceless hooded figure standing before me, a man cloaked in dark robes, bearing a longsword. “It is your time.”
My gods, where am I? I thought, as a ghostly fog crept in, shrouding the leafless forest trees and enveloping my body. The ethereal mist chilled me to the core, making it difficult to move, difficult to reason.
Then, a deep, ink-like blackness rolled across the sky and trickled down to the earth, a blackness so thick and oppressive I felt like I was choking. All I could make out was the tops of the skeletal trees and the faint outline of the grim man before me, perched upon a rock, caressing the hilt of his weapon with pale, gnarled fingers. I tried to move, but the mist twisted around my body …show more content…
“You execute justice and mercy, always? Kill only when absolutely necessary?”
I swallowed hard. There had been a few times, during the panic of battle, where I’d made questionable kills. But that couldn’t be helped! Such was the life of a warrior, a Knight of Camelot. But there was something about this shadow man’s words and his imperious demeanor that frightened me and made me call into question everything I once believed.
“I have done my best,” insisted, trying not to give away the fact terror gripped my heart. I’d always believed I’d face my death with bravery and honor, but perhaps that was not to be. I, the lively and carefree Sir Gwaine, was falling apart.
“What of the mothers of those you’ve killed, of the innocents you’ve slaughtered?” questioned the figure. “What would you say to them now, if given the chance?”
The nebulous mist changed shape and coiled into ropes, wrapping around my neck and wrists, forcing me to my knees. Yet instead of fear, guilt tore at my soul. Could I have done better in battle? Reacted less rashly during confrontations? How many innocents had died at my hand? Three? Four? The number didn’t matter. In that moment, I realized one was too
My gods, where am I? I thought, as a ghostly fog crept in, shrouding the leafless forest trees and enveloping my body. The ethereal mist chilled me to the core, making it difficult to move, difficult to reason.
Then, a deep, ink-like blackness rolled across the sky and trickled down to the earth, a blackness so thick and oppressive I felt like I was choking. All I could make out was the tops of the skeletal trees and the faint outline of the grim man before me, perched upon a rock, caressing the hilt of his weapon with pale, gnarled fingers. I tried to move, but the mist twisted around my body …show more content…
“You execute justice and mercy, always? Kill only when absolutely necessary?”
I swallowed hard. There had been a few times, during the panic of battle, where I’d made questionable kills. But that couldn’t be helped! Such was the life of a warrior, a Knight of Camelot. But there was something about this shadow man’s words and his imperious demeanor that frightened me and made me call into question everything I once believed.
“I have done my best,” insisted, trying not to give away the fact terror gripped my heart. I’d always believed I’d face my death with bravery and honor, but perhaps that was not to be. I, the lively and carefree Sir Gwaine, was falling apart.
“What of the mothers of those you’ve killed, of the innocents you’ve slaughtered?” questioned the figure. “What would you say to them now, if given the chance?”
The nebulous mist changed shape and coiled into ropes, wrapping around my neck and wrists, forcing me to my knees. Yet instead of fear, guilt tore at my soul. Could I have done better in battle? Reacted less rashly during confrontations? How many innocents had died at my hand? Three? Four? The number didn’t matter. In that moment, I realized one was too