It took far longer to dissuade Hokron from marching straight up to the frost witch’s door than Virgil cared to admit. He had no idea why his lord was so insistent on making allies of the witches. There were multiple times Virgil simply wanted to leave the stubborn lord to his end but no matter how much he disagreed with the decision Virgil would never defy Hokron’s command.

His divine oath would never let him do so.

Virgil was ashamed to admit that in recent times he tested the oaths certainty. Each test he would find his body refused to move whenever he would disobey. Sometimes even knocking his mind unconscious to forcibly complete the order. Despite the God’s leaving, his oath still held true.

That day was still clearly burned into his mind. When he took the babe from the God of Light himself. When he promised to protect and serve the babe for all eternity. Virgil found himself thinking back to that day, to the God of Light, more and more often now that the God’s had left.

He still couldn’t believe that they were abandoned.

***

The walk from the center of the forest was quiet.

I could barely bring myself to speak. I had really just drained an innocent spirit who saved me. Now that I think back, all of those people in the pits could have very well been innocent. There only crimes being disagreeing with Lato. What a shitty world, and I had only just made it worse.

Because of my actions no one else in the pits will ever be able to leave the forest. Even when Myrica regains her vitality they will forever be trapped.

“Poet, what will happen to the people in the pit who want to take the Path in the future? Since I took Myrica’s last blessing will they never be able to leave the forest?” My voice disturbing the once tranquil silence.

“My full title is fair Poet. You are to add fair before the titles of most everyone you will meet. Those with renown are called master and those whose fame is unparalleled are referred to as exalted.” The poet replied in a soft voice deliberately avoiding the question.

“Fair Poet…. Please I need to know what will happen to the people Lato threw in the pits. Will they ever escape their suffering? What about other summoned will they also be brought here to rot forever?” I continued to pester him. The Poet briefly stopped and looked back to me before answering.

“I do not know what will become of those in the trial of courage. For now, they are trapped behind an unbreakable barrier. One that has never been circumvented to this day.”

“So its hopeless. They are trapped in the pits forever. Never to be given even a chance at redemption. What shit.” The thoughts flowed unimpeded out of my mouth. We walked in silence once again. My eyes were locked directly on the floor of the dirt trail we were following. We walked and walked for what felt like an eternity before the Poet finally responded.

Stolen story; please report.

“Impossibility is a shallow concept. All previous attempts to break the barrier may have been for naught. Nevertheless, it may fall soon enough. Usually the impossible is only one idea away from the possible. For now, hope seems distant. All that is known has risen against those in the pits, yet they will overcome. I shall make sure of it.”

The last line was all but whispered as the Poet seemed to comfort himself with the words.

Again, we walked in silence. Not a single branch swayed in the breeze not a single treant stood in our way. We simply moved forward as the forest split down the middle, beckoning us further down the trail. It was odd how much I wished for some sort of physical pain, something to reflect the internal struggle that seemed to be ripping me apart at the seams.

It was a cruel sort of struggle. One of those struggles where you feel empty. Like you couldn’t think even if you tried, with that hollow feeling that plagues your chest. Worst of all was that underlying buzz in your mind. That sadness and shame that floats into every thought and action.

Guilt.

With each step the guilt flowed up inside me. It was no crushing pain, no debilitating suffering. It was simply a shallow flowing buzz one that I wanted to leave more than anything.

I was lost in my mind. So deeply focused in my own suffering I could no longer see my own surroundings. I knew deep down if I continued on the Path I would need to hurt more people that I would be playing directly into Lato’s sense of virtue. Could I really follow through with this? A familiar thought soon took my mind.

‘You should have stayed in the pit. You would never have felt so bad if you hadn’t left.’

Soon a perverted sense of security flowed through me as I recalled my time in the pit. The comfort of the crushing weight, and the serenity of being eaten alive.

What was I thinking?

I snapped myself out of my stupor. This couldn’t continue. If I was going to continue on the Path I needed to have a reason beyond my selfish desires.

I needed an excuse to ease my guilt.

Bringing an end to Lato wasn’t enough especially if I was going to use it as an excuse to act just like him. I needed something more, something else. I was going to do evil. I was going to hurt those who didn’t deserve it. Why? Why should I continue knowing I am going to force others to suffer? Is it good enough, to only protect myself to take advantage of everyone else so that I can be free? The thoughts cascaded in. Question after question flew across my mind each charged with a buzz of guilt.

What should I do?

There was no answer. Yet, that lack of an answer was an answer in it of itself.

I was always going to be selfish whether that be in my world or in Utradem. I was always going to do wrong. I was never going to be the perfect man of virtue. I was going to do evil, but I wasn’t going to only do evil. I would do good just as I did evil. Be vicious just as I was virtuous. I would not only hurt but also aid others. I needed to put into this world as much as I took. For now, that will be my answer. For now, that will be enough.

With that thought I was greeted by the sight of rolling plains and a lantern filled road. Ten wagons stood idle one hundred paces from the tree line. People where milling about talking and moving amongst one another. The Poet took only a moment to appreciate the sight before moving forward.

We were finally out of the woods.