The Shadow of the Accursed Executioner

Chapter 22: The Painted Light

A plummeting fall, a landing of another shadow...a blank, phase body of dark...were to splat down through into my body, till to a jolt, of immediate, and higher wake.
Awakening, within my fall off the ravine above, of inside this stone plain like a pit inside. Facing, to its loom waterfall, surrounded, by a wide gape through its stone ceiling of hung, sag roots, and sighted trees that had veined into the resides as pierced greens and stalk-brown shrubs, within this pit. As the pit were like a circled room of roughly earth, however, which also appearing behind my awakening, beyond these dead shadows, were had be, as well, of another black door...
Another black door, embedded through the wall of what seems to be of a direct reside to leave this pit of dull-shine grey, of colourless light, like storms. Of a natured pit, of caress waters forming of a pond beyond this ravine's streams of pour, that which the waterfall continues to crash against its silent surround of a stone pond here. Within.
But now, as I had rose, and careful approaching across these grounds of about, with these numerous splats of the mysterious bloodstains, for some of been wider than others by their rims of blood and some still laid of the lifeless shadows from upon their stains, (as others, must of faded away already, that those who were not whole enough to be to the living of existence, itself, to seem), whilst confronting to the waters of the pond's clean burrow of earth then, I, steadily, now would drop to my knees, to before to the edge of this pool's gentle ripples, fading toward my reflection, to lift to a splash of water, then more water, then, to have gone down now, and to plant my whole expression, to the face of the pool.
But wait, within the face the pool, I thought...had shone-even through my shutted eyes like the sun itself, shone in turns of flashing glints, shining, through my eyes, (which therefore I would pull away from my gulps within the expanse of the stone pond, now), were a continuous streak of light, beneath to the face of the water. It, a running glint, till to had vanished at the grip. Then again, another running glint across the steel, then again, it, like a hidden power, to course through its very own vein of...throughout the blade.
As that, it were Floria's dagger. Sitting onto the floor of this stone pond.
But had shone as bright as another sun, wielded to the grips of my hand, before...
Earlier. By the split-shadowed lady, who-that, but had pierced my heart, however...?
Where now I would fastly see down to the skin of my chest and raise my mail to see to my chest had etch of a pink, crisp scar-to see to my heart, had instead, had continued to beat through my chest.
For this, thus to have doused my soul within creep, as I would turn then to raise and to see over to the stains of blood, with the many vanished shadows and less of the remaining shadows, laying lifeless, about.
However, as I had thought-whilst be, within a whirl of clueless examine...
For... had the shadows, had retained I...? To have lived?
I would wonder.
As I had gazed down at my placement of the earth from where I had rose in my supposed end. Here, within its placement over the earth to where I had rose, by its many further patches of reddened layers of blood, layering, like of an accumulation, of many lapped rings in within these stains...
But along backing away, and to have thought, then... the shadows... had retained I, to have kept I alive, while I, but to have died, for a time, be.
Death, I, to have pondered.
And death, to had be, like a state of change.
A change... Within the nothingness.
The nothingness... to have changed, I.
But this would happen quickly. However, now awoke. By the existence, of the nothingness's change.
By, of its peaceful change.
Of, its formless form, of existence.
For there was no body.
But, merely, but the mind of... a shadow.
For I, to of surmised.
And be now collecting through thought, gathering. The shadows, for must had fell, deliberately into the gape of the waterfall and along, had they had made me whole by their forms like being of some kind of resurrection? I would think to this. For were the Black Ones of the many maggots of that forming black worm, the children from their Lady's womb, the Host of the Curse, are to be, of these earliest forms of these forming shadows, I see? With others, more whole than of others, as others before others of shadows had begun but to shape to their human forms already, I, to have theorised. To become the untouchable, first existence of the Host of the Curse's children? They, of the first men and women... Such, as the split-shadowed lady that whom had killed me, of unwavering, and untiring, dedication, toward...their 'Lady'.
Of which all shadows are to be...untouchable, against, by the hands and tools of the descendants of the Shadowmen. Untouchable... by the people of the realm, and by the Pillagers and, by the Port of the Rat Tribe Village and along, by the people of the Dry South, of the Travellers, and all the Long North, and rest what be of the outer lands, if even do the Dragon Seekers truly exist, or still.
As we, are to be...perhaps that if like the remaining dregs, of the endless battles of the Shadowmen, of a past age.
Of, the Age of the Seas...
With they, as the untouchable shadows, compared, to the descendants of their own... We.
We... Against, the first men and women of the Shadowmen in this world, from the womb of their Lady.
The Host of the Curse...
Yet, however, but evident to an exception, if any descendant of the Shadowmen, due becomes cursed, instead...
Into, of self-severance, of the curse.
To be, as we, as, the 'Tainted Ones'.
I... A Tainted One...
Or, along, a Chosen Being of Light of the sun, both, to inflict upon the shadows, such as he.
Panamex...
As the split-shadowed lady would return him to a place, proclaiming, to of where, all dragons were to be, she, to have vowed, to me.
Therefore, as I would unlatch my pointless blade, then had dropped into the stone pond of this waterfall's gaping reveal of hung roots and side greens, in its natured overgrowth of along walls of faint browns and fracturing faces of moss trailing into this cavern of stone, whilst the waterfall's burbling crashes would spit along the walls as I would go, head submerged, for this streaking dagger of light till the bottom, of this stone pond.
Then, re-emerging from this pond of stone, alas, the dagger, Floria's dagger, the dagger's light, did had dim as low until its light would being of near nothing, which, that as how as dull its light had be, like a lined streak along the dagger, glinting along its steel, like a cryptic reflection off by a faraway light, at best.
Which now gazing wearily into the blade of the dagger, whilst crossed amongst stains of blood and over shadows whole enough to exist within their dies, still, I would approach for the black door of its only seeming mark to leave this holed cavern of an anal waterfall, to which above its anal-gape moss of sag roots and stems had be a sight, of colourless light, brewing of dark-greys against conflict lighter greys of cast and, unending, clouds.
And now, as I would halt within my steps, to then glare at, toward...another black door. Another black door. That exactly, had been the one, that had looked like the one, beside Panamex, from when I had found him in his casket, from upon in that plain of earth, off the skirts, of this island's grey, high walls of stone. But, now, and to approach toward the door, enough. Till only faintly hearing now of its possessive thumps like a beating heart through its void surface, near-unseeable, within its lane of stoned wall like a portal, shaped like a rectangular, freezed portal in its door of pure dark, embedded within...this wall of stone.
As I had gazed into its fade, dim light, of the dagger. Remembering all now... Everything...
...As a spill of vague memories now would cross through my mind...
Floria... I, to had thought. But thought, being, displeased... How...? But how...? ...For how did I had even think...-to ever conceive with such a woman-?
An assassin. A Black Sun.
Who, had threatened me in my own bed, to make I plot against Ayu's intentions for true peace, with the Pillagers, to had want me, to persuade against Ayu, to (somehow) change him, and to become more like his own father, instead...of a ruler.
King Rhentehl...
As rather he would cleanse for peace, and to not merge into true peace like Ayu.
I, to have remembered it all now, as I had gasped in thought, furthermore.
(For the king, had planned for Ayu's death, by due to his ambitions as next king for wanting to merge, the ruled, with unruly-of all people...)
Then remembering, the Phase of Washing...
And Kespin. A man, for who had washed my mind anew.
For all, whilst they, to have moulded me, then into a Knight of the Realm...
And he, to have told me this. (Kespin.) The death of Ayu, and who, had be, behind it, be...
King Rhentehl...
...Whilst, still to hear, of the voices...
...The Phase of Washing...