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The Vision of Truth


Started by Nehemia
Post #76101
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Ebonheart Pact (Dunmer)
Above us, the Serpent covered night sky accompanied by the tainted stars. Below us the blood soaked ground that devours the red like a sponge. I turn my head over my shoulder just to observe men sinking their tools of death into the hearts of civilians. I now understand the price of liberty, it is an heavy toll. The buildings ablaze with flames of sorrow and agony burn my skin, but not for the warmth. The flames crawl under my skin to reach my soul, to remind me of this stone cold reality of war.

In front of me the pawn attempts to stand up, he turns his glared face at me. I notice the man incapable of raising his sword as I walk up to him. One swing of an axe, one life taken. I turn my face away from the man's. I am no soldier, I cannot observe the faces of those who fall. Nothing but a brand of the wicked, I have been fooled. Since a child I listened to the stories of glory of war, of Sovngarde and eternal feast among the ancestors in basks of honor. But now, I see the truth. The pawns fall for their kings in order to protect ideals that may indeed be false.

Survival of the fittest, its kill or to be killed, with no exceptions. I have two hands, and I intend to use them both. Although I find no joy in doing so. I enter a ruined building and in its corner I see children pray, whilst their god has done no more than turned its back on this forsaken place. The men accompanied by me turn their faces away, they stand not to look as the future of this world takes its last breath in the sight of blood covered blade of my axe. Screams that will haunt me to my grave, desperate grasps of air as the blood paints the walls of images to come.

I understand now the flow and the ultimate rule of the world. One must consume others to uphold their own. The exchange of life and death. Every day at a dinner, we consume life and absorb it to ourselves and as the time passes, our corpses will be consumed by those we consume whilst there is still air in our chest. War is no different, for weapons consume lives in order to protect the lives of its carrier.

A cry of war from behind the barrel. Yet another innocence lost as I see a boy charging towards me with a knife in his hand. He is easily disarmed. I stare into the eyes of the young boy as my left hand strangulates him. The same flame used to be seen from my eyes before it turned to charcoal. To protect ones you love the most, and now the boy decided to partake in the game of the rule. My teeth snarl against the wishes of my body as I stare into the eyes of the crying boy, watching as my hand is about to consume an innocent in order to live for tomorrow. Those eyes, the flame turns into disappointment as the mouth opens wide and the small body collapses to the floor along the tears for the lives lost.

If I am to ever sing of days like these, I have truly lost my soul.


Come, Unstoppable Eraser Rain
Throat Adder | Societas Daemonica
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The following 3 users Like Nehemia's post:
Archmage Alator, Beor of Skyrim, Triskele
Post #76167
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That was some good stuff, Nehuehue. Short but sweet.




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