Anima et Forma

Episode 33: Reflections

King Catacus watched as the massive Pearlisian army closed in on his position. His coalition fractured and fled. Catacus, however, commanded a rear guard of four thousand to halt the Pearlisian advance while his allies forded River Azalae. Most believe the Codladragan King sacrificed himself out of guilt for antagonizing the Pearlisians and starting the war. Others say he just wanted to die a glorious death.

—Brother Donnman, of the Holy Order, "A Brief History of Alexandria." 1521 A.D.

"Is he going to make it?" Skiggi's voice filled Ardwin's ears.

Darkness surrounded Ardwin. Every inch of his body stung like a thousand little needles worming through his flesh, meat, and bones. "His burns are severe," a woman said. "The explosion shattered almost every bone in his body. No. I don't think it is likely. And, if he does live, he will never be the same." Dori whimpered, sniffled, and then broke into a choking sob that scathed Ardwin's splitting skull. "Then again, it's a miracle he's survived this long. He's stubborn. I'll give him that. Pray for him. We've done what we can do."

"Come on, love," Skiggi whispered. Footsteps fled into oblivion beyond hearing. Silence filled the darkness.

Blue eyes pierced the shadows. Rose's face floated beneath a current, passing Ardwin by, then vanishing. Murphrey glared. I've been the catalyst for so many deaths. Uthrad Pendragon pleaded to Ardwin with earnest eyes before the void also swallowed him. Where does this river lead? He tried to follow, but he was too broken to move. I'll never be the same. The dark current carried faces from his past: the young brothers he'd slain during the Choosing Ritual, the fletcher of Colonia, who'd perished in the siege, countless red sash radicals, bandits, soldiers, courtiers, and spies.

So many lives cut short.

A sliver of light pierced the darkness. His left eye peeled open, revealing a high ceiling of white plaster and a sconce affixed to a column.

The fire washed through him, spreading across his skin and causing his hands and feet to tremble. Ardwin clenched his fist. A shock of pain caused him to spasm. He cried out. A woman's face hovered over his own, wrinkles carving her flesh. She lowered a rag onto his mouth and nose.

Oblivion claimed him.

Ardwin awoke at the center of a clearing: lush green grass surrounded by mighty oaks and soaring elms. A golden sky radiated. Foxes, rabbits, and deer nibbled on bushes and berries while colorful birds and chattering squirrels leaped from tree to tree. "Hey!" Padair called. Ardwin spun on a heel to watch the satyr climb out of a shallow creek bed, following a well-trod path through the grass. "I see you're finally awake." He stopped at the edge of the clearing. "Do you remember anything?"

"I remember the explosion," Ardwin said. "Everything after that is gone as if it never happened, but my body says it did. Did Rose—?"

Padair lowered his eyes and shook his head.

Ardwin swallowed a lump in his throat. "Murph, too. I remember."

"Murphrey left you with no choice," Padair said as he entered the clearing. "I should say Keya left you with no choice. Her magic turned Murph into her puppet, as she did with the Abbot, which she planned to do to you. Everyone knows you did your best. It's not your fault."

"Keya and the Holy Order wanted me," Ardwin said. "If it weren't for me, Rose would be performing with Skiggi and Dori, celebrating at the tavern or gambling. She'd be alive." He grinned, but a tear welled in his eye, so he wiped it away with his thumb. "And Murph—" Ardwin stopped to sigh, releasing a swell of guilt from his belly. "No. It is my fault. I shouldn't have meddled. I put myself in their path and encouraged Rose to follow me."