Dark Authorship

Wake up, crooked man

In the dark abyss in which I exists, I chase a bright figure, like a moth fluttering towards the moon without really knowing how far away it really is. Naive and foolhardy.

Illusory is the figure, because no matter how hard I try to reach it, it is always out of my reach, but at the same time it is so close that if I could only stretch out my hands I could touch it. Vain hopes, but my heart needed them to move forward.

Laughter reverberates in my ears, coming from the most beautiful voice I have ever heard. She mocks me, but I don't feel any malice; Innocent is she who in her cruelty makes a jester of me for her satisfaction. Most charming thing she was. My heart was pounding as my legs fell to the ground, the soles of my feet covered in blood from my desperate running.

And on my knees, she turned to look at me. But I couldn't see her beautiful face, hidden by the intense light. The only thing that is revealed is her smile, a perfect and divine smile, graceful like an angel.

That figure of hers was so close to me, but that wasn't enough for my greedy soul, at all. I needed her all, to put my hands on that embodiment of perfection. To paint her in a thousand ways with my own colors and fill her with my being.

Make her mine and no one else's.

But she always eludes me, with a perpetual smile marking her beautiful face.

And I already knew that the time to dream was over. The world dissolves, and she stops looking at me. My skin, flesh and bone melts and pools in a puddle of grime, my hideous self revealed in all its ugliness.

The dream ends.

...

Opening my eyes is easy, but the rest of my body takes longer to obey, sleeping with my armor on causes my muscles to go numb. But it is somewhat preferable to see myself vulnerable on these plains. Lots of open space and little cover, perfect for anything that can fly and has a good view to fall on top of me.

Although that was honestly the least of my worries, there were far worse things lurking in the wastes. A memory emerges in my head. My encounter with two particular bastards while naked was especially irritating, the only pleasant thing about the memory was breaking the brother's neck before cutting the sister's hands off.

At least I didn't use her, a small mercy I gave her, something others wouldn't have had, no matter how horrendous the scars on her face were. Unlike other savages, I at least wanted them to have a good face or body, I wasn't going to use just any witch.

I looked at the sky in its usual perpetual red, and the sun still keeping its malicious gaze on the earth. Perpetual punishment that was existence in this world for a being that could never be understood.

But I think I've rambled on long enough.

With that thought I forced my body to move, sore muscles screaming at me to stop, but as always I ignored them. A couple of voices in my head won't be enough to stop me.

Standing I stretch my body, slowly recovering my motor skills. Keeping my eyes on the skies at any sign of danger, the chickens of these lands were especially annoying to deal with, flying and being able to throw toxic shit at you that at best leaves you vomiting blood was not something I was looking forward to experiencing. That was a pretty ignoble way to die, in my opinion.

"So where do I have to go again?"

I whispered to myself, thinking what was I exactly looking for here. It took me a second before I remembered, my hand reaching inside my pants, searching for a moment before pulling out what I wanted.

A piece of cloth with some inscriptions, and a semi-readable map. Knowing where to go is complicated, walking without direction is the easiest way to get killed, so things like maps or directions through word of mouth are crucial information, so many keep those details hidden, only being shared to members of their communities. It was a pain to make that merchant open his mouth to find out that he had this little treasure.