when all of hell is full, the dead shall walk the earth
The past had a way of forcing itself into the future.
He had many skeletons in his closet he would have liked to bury for good, but somehow they always managed to rattle the door when he least expected it. A familiar sight, perhaps, or the smell of pine and soot could wake them up. The triggers were never the same, which left him ill prepared to fight down the memories when they came crawling back to the front of his mind.
Today, however, it was a voice. The voice was so far in his past that at first, he thought it some trick of the magical lands, or perhaps his own mind going funny in the perpetual loneliness that is the after life. But there was a clearness to it that made him think otherwise, a lilt to the tone that told him the voice was not a figment of his imagination.
He knew it as well as his own; perhaps better, given his propensity for scowling silence and gnashing teeth over actual words. He had heard her voice first as a brat of a filly who enjoyed being a burr in his side. Listened to it as she grew in herself and in her strength, becoming one of the most fearsome leaders the lands had ever known. He had even known her as a lover once, though he held no feelings towards her in that regard. It was a union that made sense, and strong kingdoms needed strong heirs forged from strong bloodlines. But he could not pretend he wasn’t glad to see her. To the contrary, he was as excited as he ever gets. Which isn’t very, but he didn’t scowl at her in any case. ”A sight for sore eyes…” he murmured, his voice broken from lack of use. ”The Gods must have been some kind of assholes, to tie your fate to someone like me.” A flicker of a smile crossed his mouth, an uncharacteristic motion indeed. ”But, perhaps you’re right. Though if I remember correctly, the last time you and I were together, Beqanna got down right pissed off and burned herself to the ground.” That was true. They had flexed their muscle and put the petulant kingdoms in their place, though it had not come without repercussions. Her next words caught him off guard, and he regarded her carefully, his dark eyes never leaving hers. Finally, he looked away, staring off into the emptiness and fog that threatens to consume them.
”Can I live again if I never truly died? My life was tied to the Chamber (Eight had seen to that), that is true, and she is gone, that is also true. But the Chamber still lives in some capacity, otherwise, you wouldn’t be here. I may be wrong though, and that is just a hunch. I’ve always been more brawn than brains.” He normally isn’t the philosophical type, quite the opposite. But something in her stirred something in him. Finally, he sighed, his gaze coming back to her. ”Of course I will help. This fog is bullshit. I miss our home, too.” With that, he gave her a nod. She knew much more than him about magic, and he had no choice but to trust her.
Warship