Towering over James, Jack felt his conviction waiver as the rage empowering his movements ebbed, his knees buckling as he collapsed onto them. It was only the survival instinct he had ingrained into his psyche that gave him the strength to maintain a firm grip over his sword, even as he found his will to fight rapidly escaping him.

In his desire to rectify a perceived injustice, he had ended up committing the greatest of sins.

He felt his mind’s eye fragment into a thousand shards, forming a kaleidoscope of alternate futures that his consciousness forced him to replay out of the crushing guilt that was weighing down upon him. If he moved a little faster would he have been able to snap his bow in half? If he had acted a little more discreetly, would James have been able to sense his presence? If he had instructed Sarah a little more, given her some advice on how to distract James, would the ruse have lasted a little longer? Long enough to resolve this conflict without any more bloodshed?

Possibly.

There were so many possibilities. So many ways the situation could have gone.

Yet…. all Jack had, all any of them had… was the present.

Did he have to charge at James?

No…. odds were that he’d leave them alone.

Did he regret charging at James?

That was a harder question.

Did a person regret being themselves? Acting on the basis of who they were— the confluence of how they were brought up, the values they adhered to and the perception of themselves?

Sometimes, yes. Sometimes, no.

Could they help it, though?

Most… couldn’t.

“Damn it!” Jack pummelled his fist into the ground, striking with such force that he could feel the impact in his bones.

The footsteps sounding out behind him cut through the dreary landscape his mind was at that moment, causing Jack to angle his gaze behind him.

Sarah met his gaze.

He could see the shock reflected in her eyes, the fear concealed in the corner of her pupils— but most of all, he saw a sternness in her demeanor that hadn’t been there before.

“Are you alright?” Sarah asked, her tone echoing forth with genuine concern instead of the recrimination he had been expecting.

“I…,” Jack trailed off, unsure how to respond. Part of him was surprised that Sarah hadn’t simply left, horror stricken at his actions, while the other part of him wondered how she could maintain a mask of stoicism even in their present circumstances.

“....just killed someone,” Jack said the words aloud, acknowledging reality for what it was.

For the first time in his life, he had killed a person— a real person, in every sense of the words’ meaning.

Sarah’s mask cracked a little at those words, but she managed to recover.

If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

“I’m not going to wallow in self pity after… what I’ve done but,” Jack found that his own voice was overwhelmed with emotion, in a rare display of vulnerability that reminded him of the person he used to be— lonely and broken, nestled in a manor too large to ever feel like home. “but…. this is my fault. I failed as a person. I failed as a leader.”

Sarah remained silent, sensing that Jack had more to say.

“I saw what Andrew did. I witnessed his belligerent actions with my own eyes. Yet… I did nothing to stop it. I could have.. I knew I could’ve but it risked damaging the integrity of the group. I prioritized the group over any one individual and it… this is what it has led to,” Jack muttered, his tone crestfallen.

“Who made you the leader?” Sarah angrily questioned.

Stunned by her furious response, Jack truly looked at her for the first time since they’d met, not used to having his authority challenged.

“Andrew made the decision to steal James’ kill. You tried to get James to surrender, but instead he drew his arrow and activated that terrible skill without any warning. If I was in your place, I would be writhing on the floor in agony, completely at his mercy. They were both adults who made their own decisions and you…,” Sarah’s gaze flickered to James’ lifeless silhouette, managing to withhold the urge to wince, “ did what you had to.”

“There could have been a different outcome,” Jack replied, though deep down he knew Sarah’s words to be true.

“No,” Sarah firmly replied. “You don’t get to lead me. You weren’t leading Andrew. James was very capable of fighting for himself and he did. He fought back, but the second time, he fought back against the one person trying to help him. This is the outcome their choices led to.”

Sarah believed her own words. She had to believe her own words. She had to keep moving forward. She had to be selfish. She had to ignore the past, forget it if need be— and she would if it meant seeing her father again.

“Can you truly bring yourself to trust me after this?” Jack asked, gazing at Sarah’s outstretched palm that was beckoning him to get back onto his feet.

“I don’t know,” Sarah replied honestly. “I’m trapped in a forest with a man I met an hour ago. We are up against a forest teeming with creatures I’ve never seen before in my life, wielding arcane powers that I don’t understand to barely survive. I would be a liar if I said I knew what I was doing…. except one thing— I know that I can’t do this alone. Teaming up with you is the best shot I have.”

Jack grunted in affirmation, realizing that his words had failed him.

Slowly, he got back onto his feet. It was not his intention to spurn Sarah’s extended hand, but this… this was something he had to do for himself.

Walking over to a clear patch of grass, Jack thrust his sword into the soft earth, plucking out a small mound of soil and depositing it to the side.

Before Sarah could ask what he was doing, Jack repeated the process. Again. And again. Then a fourth time. Fifth. Each time, he got a little faster, his enhanced strength assisting him in the process.

Ten minutes later, flanked by two mounds of upended earth rested two makeshift graves.

“Do we have time for this?” Sarah asked, worriedly, while keeping a vigilant eye on her surroundings.

“Perhaps not,” Jack replied, walking over to James’ limp body.

“Then why-”

“I will do what it takes to survive,” Jack solemnly replied, as he pressed the Loot option that appeared before him. The loot that had originally belonged to Andrew, then was brutally stolen by James now fell in his possession—-perhaps in an equally brutal manner. So much blood had been shed over the loot he simply could not bring himself to bury it, even if the survivalist within himself could be convinced.

“This trial… this world….is designed to break and reforge us until we are indistinguishable from weapons of warfare,” Jack muttered, his gaze furiously angled towards the sky. “I will do what it takes to survive but… it will not be at the cost of my humanity.”

His hands sinking into the soil, he began to cover the graves— his actions at most, symbolic defiance.

Not long thereafter, Sarah and Jack departed, leaving behind two gravestones partially embedded within the ground.

Scrawled upon them in rough, abrasive writing, was a single line:

‘If reincarnation exists, may your soul find solace in a world where the only battle waged is against the darkness in our hearts.”