Within the swirling Mist (IC) > Biographies

Reaction, Reflection, Realization - Domenico Foscari

(1/3) > >>

Legion XXI:

A wise old man once said to me that it is the final end of a life that is the single most defining moment in a lifetime.  I laughed, asking how such a thing could possibly be true.  I argued that each and every day I wake and complete my daily training.  I interact with those around me.  I move and make the world I touch move in turn, and in doing so I am accomplishing much more than the single act of the average man's death could possibly account for.

He looked at me with little more than pity in his eyes, the old man's endless knowledge blotting out my own fledgling mind like the void of the starless night sky looming over a tiny shadow.  It is not the life of the deceased that was being defined, he said.  It was the killer who would be changed in the most significant way, cleaving the story of his life into two great lengths. 

All moments before the slaying, and all moments after.

And in that second life, the slayer was reborn.  He would rise from his grave, born anew in blood and pain.  And in that second birth, the slayer was renewed.  He would open his eyes for the first time, the illusions of the world would begin to fade.  And in that renewal, the slayer would discover the truth that men who only lived one life would never understand.  He would have a power within that they could never take away.

Legion XXI:
And so I stood there, at the precipice of a new era.  The Spirit-Seeker had told me that I was beholden to no one.  That I should do as I pleased, for that was the only path I needed to worry about.  Yet I still felt the burden of responsibility on my conscience.  Responsibility to an Order that would not have me.  To those who told me I was not enough.  To a way of life that I was deemed unfit to live.  These are the truths that I have told none, for how could I fill the role that was required of me if they knew?

I meditated long on the answer, but the more I sat and reflected, the more the truth became clear to me.  There was no great question to be asked of myself, for I had decided my course of action long ago.  When I arrived in this land of mists, it was not to find a new path.  It was a continuation of the one I was already on.

It was purpose that drove me to them.

The same purpose that brought me here.

And again the very same that will bring them to me.

- - - - - - - - - - -

I woke from my meditation to see her across the room, knelt by a candle herself.  Ah, if only you knew what I was.  What would you think of me, my companion?  I am sure that in time, I will have the answer to my question.  All things become clear, with enough time.  I only wish that I could bring you with me when I go.  But no.  This step I take alone.  Alone again, on a winding and misty path.  Unable to see what lies ahead, unable to know which direction the path will turn.  A story so familiar, yet so distant in my mind.  These years have taken a great toll on some, but I feel as if my spirit has just awoken from a deep slumber.  Aware of my surroundings for the very first time.

As I ready myself for what comes next, I take pause to remind myself of my own mortality.  One misstep and I will be sent tumbling into the abyss below.  A dancer walking the tightrope, a fledgling bird on the edge of the nest.  In the great cycle of all things, I am but a speck.  This day, this week, this month - nothing of significance before the crashing tide in the ocean of time.

There is perhaps no end to the path that I walk, but if perfection demands eternal service, then a slave forevermore I shall be.

In my service, I will find strength.
In my solitude, I will find wisdom.

I ask no forgiveness for what I now do, the pursuit of enlightenment can no longer be mired in emotion.

Legion XXI:

--- Quote ---Reflections on the Tenday's Holy Death:

We walked, he and I, to a place where we were alone.  I told him of a murder that had been committed in the dark, decrepit place that we had set out to.  The further into that place we went, the more I revealed.  A holy murder.  A cultist avenged.  The beginning of a new path.  He listened to my words, attentive and vigilant, looking for any signs of danger.  I felt a tightness within my chest, my focus wavering for a brief moment.  The balance that controls my every action, that guides me and allows composure, threatening to abandon me.  I closed my eyes there, in the dark, hand grasping the handle of my weapon. 

In that moment, time was very still.  I had an eternity to struggle with the action I was about to take.  I felt the quickened beating of my heart.  Tasted the cold, damp air of the cave.  Felt the dirt and stone underfoot.  I visualized what would happen, if my hand extended to touch him.  I saw it over and over in my mind, his blood painting the dirty cave wall.   Oozing out onto the ground, it's crimson tendrils weaving a lazy pattern outwards.  I saw the paleness of his skin as his spirit left his body, and the decay of his flesh and bone over time as he lay undiscovered in a desolate place.  I saw myself through his eyes.  I felt the fear he would feel.  The betrayal that would burn in his heart for the brief moment of life he still had.  The call for vengeance, the distaste for the injustice that was about to be committed.  All of this, I considered.  All of this, I took in.  In that moment, our spirits intersected.  Both of our paths had led us here.  Every choice, every step, every stumble and leap.  And in this place, alone, cut off from the world, we would fight.  A test of cunning and quickness, of strength and of will.  I knew that I would prevail, it could be no other way.  I understood my enemy wholly and I had prepared for every possible outcome.  I was calm.  I was balanced.  I was ready for whatever awaited me.  This man was already dead, long before he ever set foot in this place.  And I had killed him, from the very first time we met.  Fate had brought us here, a trail to be overcome.  A lesson to be mastered.

I spoke the words he needed to hear, to make my betrayal complete.  I felt my mouth move, and the breath leave my lungs.  I know I had spoken to him, but I did not hear my own words.  I heard instead the shifting of his balance, the dirt grinding underfoot as he turned to face me.  I opened my eyes and saw him there, my arm raising to reach out and touch him.  I felt the blast in between us and was already moving on his companion by the time he hit the ground.  My focus was absolute, my task quickly and cleanly fulfilled. 

In that moment, I experienced a great clarity.  I saw myself striding another step forward down a thorn-lined path with no end.  I saw the Spirit-Seeker and her eternal struggle against Fate and its machines.  I saw the Priestess Pain and her willingness to endure the suffering that most would avoid.  We are different from each other, yet outsiders the same.  And it was this path hat we chose.  Not because we had to, but because we wish to.  Because without endless pursuit, without a hopeless struggle, without unending pain, we cannot realize our true potential.  This was the path that would lead us to ruin.  But this was the path that would make us more than mortal.

I left that place, a clear trail for the vigilant to follow.  I would be hunted, perhaps.  Chased and threatened, fought and tested.  There was a way out, of course.  I could have made it all go away.  But it was the fight that I chose.  It is the path that will lead me most directly to my goal.  And this step into a pool of a sinner's blood was only the first along this new road that I have found myself on.  I face whatever lies ahead with a clear mind and a focused spirit.  I am prepared.  I am worthy.
--- End quote ---

Legion XXI:
In my meditations, I dreamed.  It was a thing of intensity, and I could neither escape it, nor fight myself to wake from it.  A moment of clarity and reflection, twisted into a grim and terrifying encounter within my deepest thoughts.

I ran through a shadowed forest, down a path long untraveled.  Darkness had fallen around me and I could hear the sound of pursuers growing close.  The cold night wind rushed past my face and the wounds in my chest stung with each deep breath.  I was faster than the hunters- yet they grew closer.  I struggled to think, to maintain balance and focus, to remain in control of my mind, body, and spirit.  But such things grew difficult, and I could feel the venom of fear creeping into my soul.

I saw a great and dark pursuer, his eyes burned a deep color of red when his gaze fell upon me.  His form was an inky blackness that I could not quite make out, and I could not perceive him fully.  He reached out and the wounds within my chest began to glow a deep crimson color.  And with this glow, there was only silence and pain.  The world fell away from me, and in that moment, I felt only the deep burn of my wounds within my chest.  My feet were compelled to move, yet after only a few steps I was again wracked with pain.  I moved, and moved again, ever seeking to evade the darkness that approaches, yet I could not.  I could feel his eyes upon me no matter where I hid, and when I looked away from him even for a moment, he was no longer there.  The others had fallen away now, and it was only he and I.  Yet with each sound, he approached from a new direction.  I was trapped, encircled, bound to my hiding place.  Each breath I drew became more labored, and I could hear a faint whisper calling me to close my eyes and sleep.  The world grew very still and black.  Only faint trappings of it remained, and I felt myself slipping away from all that I knew.

When he spoke, I heard him within my mind.  He was all around me, an inescapable force that blotted out all else.  There was no sky, no moon, no forest or path.  There was only the pursuer, and his will imposed upon me.  His voice was deep, and boomed loudly from within my skull, shaking my very soul with each word.

"This is your fate, fledgling servant of Death.  To fail, a great and profound disappointment to all that you hoped to be.  To fall short in your leap and be plunged into the abyss.  This darkness is the tomb that you have built for yourself.  Your legacy, an unmarked grave in the great sea of blood that you have spilled."

"Tell me, seeker of things you cannot comprehend - what did you accomplish?  What great understanding was gained?  Others have put faith in you, Slayer, and you have failed them.  You have failed yourself.  You have failed me."

I awoke, cold sweat upon my brow.  My breath came quickly as the reality of the world nearly overpowered my senses.  My mind shifts quickly to the seekers who have come before me.  The gnome of shadow, maker of the knuckle-bone necklace.  The generous rat, scheming of death and endless plans.  The lost caliban, wandering into this blood-soaked land, unaware entirely of what darkness he has stumbled upon.  The reserved inquisitor, searching for answers to questions that he only just formed. 

All of these are before me, and in me, they have placed a measure of trust.  In my most quiet moments, I wonder what I am bringing them in turn.  Is it truly what they seek?  Or am I damning us all, in search of something I do not deserve to possess.  Trifling with power that I cannot hope to comprehend, just like the others.

The path is ever confusing.  It twists and turns, and is oft shrouded in darkness.  I must remind myself that it is not mine to decide if I am worthy.  It is only mine to try, and to try again.  To struggle, until there is naught left to struggle against.  To seek, until nothing else may be found. 

With the Doomguide's words still filling my mind, I know that there is still far to go.  I am only but a few steps along the path without end - and time grows short, for all men must die.

Legion XXI:
I walk through darkness
and long for winter distant
but it is not mine

On this eve, I know only chaos.  Lost in a sea of my own thoughts, my meditation brings me little in the way of peace.  My codes, my oaths, my path - it has all been my anchor for so long.  But as I find myself increasingly pulled at all sides, I begin to wonder if I've been a great fool.  I still clutch memories of old allies and value the kindness they have shown to me.  I am wary of ancient enemies and what they have done to my kind.  How can I call myself a servant of only Death, when so many other voices insist on being heard first?  I wonder if the cause I follow has changed because I have attained a greater understanding of my path, or because I have become wary and lost upon it.  It is questions like these that awaken a feeling of unease within my deepest spirit.

I sat with her and we spoke of the past and present both, and in that moment I knew a tranquil peace that has evaded me for some time.  We find ourselves more intertwined than ever, our paths blurring together more with each step.  I feel emotion and worry that it clouds my judgement.  I feel loyalty to one who has not practiced the old arts in which all of my tenants are based.  Is this bond we share strengthening me, or is it slowing my steps upon my path?  My mind tells me that she could not possibly understand my duty to the path I walk, yet my spirit knows that she does.

More troubling - if it is indeed a weight around my feet, do I posses the strength to cut myself free?  Would I even want to, if I did?  Knowing that this very bond may cost me everything I seek, I have chosen to maintain it.  Knowing that feelings of security and companionship are lies that we tell ourselves to bring false calm, I still clutch them closely, like a child with a doll.  And now on the precipice of what may be the greatest bloodletting of my brief and fumbling existence, I am consumed with doubt because of it.

And yet, despite this chaos, I feel a strength and security in the bonds that have been forged.  It is undeniable that the allies I have gained are responsible for keeping the rising tide at bay.  Without them, how far along my own path would I have traveled before finding that Death has stolen me?  Solitude makes for quiet meditation, but no sage has existed that did not borrow from the wisdom of others.  Were it not for her, I may still walk among the land of the light, suffering the burden of the unremarkable and unpursued.  Perhaps I do not yet possess the wisdom to make sense of what has been shown to me.  Perhaps in time, that which is obscured will be made clear.

I am either on the eve of a new and profound revelation in my path, or I have become poisoned and now wither from within.  I pray that the choices I have made have no so shortened my existence that I will never see what fruit this tree will bear.  Yet, if it is so, I have made peace with the path I tread.  I understand that all men must die.

As the sages long before me have said, and those who come after me will also tell:  Those who seek Death shall find it.  It remains true always, even for me.  Wisdom is understanding this, and yet finding the strength within to seek it anyways.

Navigation

[0] Message Index

[#] Next page