Wardenheart

Vision

I floated in darkness once more, the black surrounding me like an ocean of space. I was not afraid, but instead, oddly calm.

A flood of nostalgia overtook me to the point of tears as a field of tall grass materialized in front of me. Cutting through it was a dusty dirt road, in the middle of which was a well-decorated carriage.

A thought ran through my head that was not mine. I had to kill the battlemage. It had to look like an accident.

~~~

I struck a match and lit the rag that was soaking in a bottle my favorite brand of whiskey. If this wouldn't set fire to the carriage, it was magically guarded, and I would have to change tactics to close quarters combat. Mages, even if they weren't that physically fit, could still kill the hell out of you in hand-to-hand fights with touch-based spells.

I lobbed it at the side and it caught fire easily enough as the bottle shattered and sent fire flying. What I wasn't expecting was the subsequent explosion. In a flash of light, the carriage seemed to burst. The shockwave was entirely unexpected, and it threw me back on to the ground with great force.

I struggled to comprehend exactly what was occurring. I was seeing a vision of an older time, I felt, and there was a feeling of waiting, that one circumstance was building atop another simply to create the following moments. Many of the thoughts I was experiencing were not my own, but it was easy enough to separate them from my stream of consciousness. For that, I was grateful.

I stood up and ran toward the carriage, taking my sword from my back with ease. It felt like muscle memory that was somehow foreign to me. It was the strangest feeling, being overcome by instinct and actions that were clearly not my own.

I felt it all. The rushing winds as I sprinted toward the carriage, the heat of the fire and flame, the strange peace I always felt before a kill (a feeling that wasn't truly my own, I always felt more than a little nervous).

With my gauntlet-clad hand, I ripped the door off what remained of the carriage, finding inside what I never wanted to see again.

He was only a kid, about my age too. I saw him struggle to get free, but when he saw me, anger and fear filled his eyes. He attempted to strike me with a bolt of lightning, one that missed by quite a lot. A feeling of immense pity and guilt came over me, one that prompted me to save the last survivor of my actions. This was the battlemage I was supposed to kill? He looked no older than eighteen at most.

Was this supposed to be Theris, the Bloodied?

~~~

Then, in as much time as it had materialized, the vision melted away back to darkness. I had a strange sense of déjà vu in those moments, I even felt that I recognized them.

In front of me, a shining light appeared, one that I felt compelled to reach out to. Under it were the words "The Collapse" in rather elegant handwriting, as if it were penned by me on an official document. Not to brag, but I was quite the scribe back in my academy days. Taking dictation from all sorts of professors, I had little trouble passing my classes when I knew the course material well in advance.

I grasped the light in my hand, following my strange instincts. The next thing I knew, I had returned to the gate once more. It began to slowly open, revealing what laid in wait on the other side: ruin.

"Well, here's where we part ways." Hark said.

"What, do you mean for me to enter alone?" I asked.

"Obviously not, Theris." Hark said. "Let's go."

"I'll be stayin' 'ere, Hark, and so will you." Thelma said, grabbing Hark's shoulder as he started coming with me. shoulder. "Won't do for my son to be getting' 'imself gettin' killed 'n all that."

"Mom, come on!" Hark said. "I'm old enough to be on my own now. I can kill monsters, I can report back at a moment's notice if things go wrong! I've got to see the Collapse for myself!"

"Hark is your son?" I asked Thelma. Although I wasn't in disbelief by any means, I was a little surprised by the sudden revelation. Ultimately, it made sense, considering my previous observations.

"Do ye want t' end up like Rayvin?" Thelma asked, a cold, warning look coming in to her eyes. "Went in t' th' Collapse when 'e was but seventeen too. Died. Yer not even marked, how're ye gonna survive the greenhouse? Let Theris 'n Jolly handle it."

"But it's my plan!" Hark exclaimed. "Why can't I go in there and see my plan work? If this goes over well, we might be able to eat frozen meats this winter rather than just starve!"

"Yer not goin', Hark. I'm not lettin' you anywhere near the warden." Thelma said. "That's final."

"Then why let me go with you and Jolly at all, then, huh?" Hark asked. "Does it even matter what I do? I could save the whole world and you wouldn't care!"

"Come back t' me when ye do, then." Thelma retorted. "Fer now, yer gonna learn on th' weak bumpers that stroll over 'ere. Until ye get stronger, wardens are outta th' question. Don't embarrass yerself in front of good comp'ny."

Hark looked at me angrily and sighed.

"Read the damn map. Read it good, and follow the plan to the letter. 'Cause if you don't, this could all go to hell quicker than you can scream for help. Take the greenhouse, and make sure we can eat this winter, okay?"

Looking at his face, I sensed that his pride, now stricken, had been shattered. This was as much a matter of his reputation to him as a matter of survival. I did not know how much this greenhouse truly mattered, but it was clear that it was a dangerous undertaking to be conquered.

"You have my word." I replied. "But, pray tell, what is a warden?"

"Don't worry about it too much," Hark said. "Because if you see it, or especially if it sees you, you're already dead."