Within These Tangled Tales

Chapter One

—Unknown—

Kneeling beneath the archway, hands clasped tightly together around the hilt of his sword, he trembled. His will buckled from the force of her suffering. He could hear it in her voice, in the way it wavered over the hauntingly beautiful notes of her song. She had always sung with such resolve, each word carried with such reverence and love, but now, he could hear her fear, her anguish, her resignation accompanying the unending song. What had once been a balm that covered the land now became a requiem to mourn, to offer a warning of the horror that was to come.

It was always meant to end this way.

The knowledge didn't make this any easier. The tears slipped from his eyes, flowing freely down his face. He was not ashamed to cry. He had already shed countless tears for her. But tears would solve nothing. They would not cure her pain. They would not stop what was to come. They were nothing more than the evidence of his regret.

How long he had been there, he couldn't say, but, at last, he raised his head. His knees ached from the cracked stone pathway beneath him. It led into the distance, where he would find her tomb, the source of her endless suffering. He couldn't see her tomb, but he could feel the magic that encircled it, even from there. The snow-covered mountains hid the curve of the path. Though the way was clear, he would not venture any further. He hadn't the strength. Besides, there was nothing he could do for her, not here.

Standing, he listened to her singing for a few moments longer before he finally turned away. He followed the blackness that spread out from the Crypt, his steps slow and measured. The land had already begun to wither, and the weather had begun to turn. The vibrant landscape was being reduced to shades of grey that punctuated every note of the requiem. Soon, the storms would begin, and the corruption would claim everything in sight. There wasn't much time left to act.

His plan was far from perfect. It wasn't even truly a plan. It was the last, desperate act of a fool but one he would attempt regardless. Guided only by legend and a hope that grew fainter with every step, he made his way from the Crypt and across the wilderness, the song fading as he left her behind.

The legends were false; he knew it in his heart, but he would follow them anyway. He would walk until his feet bled, until he collapsed from exhaustion, and he could no longer recall the sound of her voice. He would seek out Aer'Avyn with the last of his strength, but he would not find her. He would die. The song would fade. And the blight would spread. Just as it had before. Just as it would be in the future. Theirs was a struggle without cease.

It was always meant to end this way.