Taking sides

Chapter 18: The further we fall

Sinking in the sand, there was nothing I could do to slow my descent. It was only a matter of time before I sunk too far under; sunk to a place no one could find me. I knew struggling was fruitless and there was no one and nothing, no lifeline out there. I was doomed to observe my own demise in slow motion. The fear began to rise with the sand, my limbs now all held in place. I could scream but I am terrified that there are other dangers lingering just beyond the sinking sand, and the fate they have planned for me is far worse. So I remained silent and helpless. A sob catches in my throat as the murky depths slowly covered my mouth. Another breath of life denied and before the final strangled gasp, the world faded from view.

Jerked into consciousness, a cry escapes my lips. Maddox's flat tone inquires, "Are you hurt?"

Still recovering from the shock, in the grips of a cold sweat, I hear his words but feel unable to respond, still catching my breath and trying to steady it. I looked up at Maddox. He is a blur as my tears burn my dry eyes and distort my vision. I finally reply in a shaky tone, still tainted with lingering dread, "I am...fine. It was a nightmare, nothing more."

It was impossible for me to gauge his reaction as he stood there with a glazed expression as if waiting for me to say something more, to assure him that I was fine. I had said it was a nightmare to persuade myself that I was okay, but it seemed that I had not convinced either of us. Dragging myself up, I smile weakly at Maddox who backs away slowly and returns to his work.

I begin readying myself, donning my plain clothes for what I believe will be an awkward trip. Samson would have to treat me like every other soldier, more so in front of the other Templars. He couldn't show weakness for any opportunist to exploit. It would be myself, a group of Templars and Samson leading the recruitment. What role would I play? I was unsure. Would I be bait to lure them in? A flash of rage bubbled over at the thought as I recalled Warren's revelation. But I couldn't let that play upon my mind as I already had enough on my plate. And I had to see Damon in the healing tent, satisfy myself that all I had gone over with him had sunk in. The walk toward the healing tent felt strangely longer than usual as that sinking feeling continued to linger, following me like a shadow. As I stepped into the healing tent, I looked over my shoulder as if expecting to be faced with something or someone but no one was there. I took a deep pained breath and waited for the pressure on my chest to lessen. I turned slowly and found Damon standing with his arms folded and his eyes cast to the ground as if waiting for me. Upon hearing me, his eyes darted up and locked on mine, his smile was an uneasy one so I assure him, "Don't worry you will do fine. Do you need me to go over the basics again?"

"No, I should be fine. When will you be back?"

"Tomorrow evening I would imagine. Hopefully with new recruits," I chimed as if I was a red Templar, hoping our army would grow.

There was no trepidation in my words and that worried me, as it almost sounded like I was looking forward to bringing more poor souls into this hell. Shaking my head, I reminded myself of this fact. I was no red Templar and I did not believe in their cause, nor agree with their methods but I couldn't deny that they were not simply the evil bastards they had been made out to be. They were human, and some had lost their way, others lost their minds to blue lyrium, and the red had given them a glimpse of sanity, brought them back for a time. Taking a deep breath I stepped outside the healing tent, leaving a nervous Damon to stand on his own two feet.

I hope I am not making a mistake trusting him.

Approaching Samson's tent, I see a half dozen Templars milling outside. They acknowledge me with a nod before returning to a contemplative silence. All eyes drew upward when Samson stepped out, he may not have been in full armor but he still held an air of command. His stern expression seemed to lead even the most battle-hardened Templar to evade eye contact as if it were disrespectful. This amused me but also gave me an odd sense of pride in his ability to command respect. I merely nodded upon catching his eye. Unlike the others I did not look away, I held his gaze even though it was brief.