Chapter 114: Amidst the Mask
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Evil wasn’t truly there. The words of the fair weren’t there. Blinded by the truth and the dread, the evil doesn’t fair. Oswin was a merry man. He cared for a princess and the men. Yet in the end, his head was filled. With lies and filth, his eyes saw the burnings, the chains, the clattering of teeth.
Oswin carried the silver sword, his head hung up low, his face trodden and deathly pale. He cares none of the affairs and yet he saw the mourning of the enemy he was about to slay.
“Why do this Sir.” The elf said.
“It is nothing personal.”
Oswin answered. He glared with a teary eye. The elf cried. It bellowed a sob. It prayed for its God and he touches the ground with his head. Then Oswin brought up his blade. It glimmered and hissed with silver light. He felt pain yet he did what he needed to do.
Slash, the elf’s head separated from his neck. The elf cried, it died, and Oswin had to wipe the blood off his hands and turned to the others who are waiting for the elf and his family. Oswin as human, the butcher, the slaughterer, the winner of this feast of blood had to do what he was asked to do.
“Kill them already Sir Oswin. We still have to go to the other houses. Leave no one, for a speck of ember, can burn the tiniest sparks.”
The man who said that killed an elf not taller than his waist. The kid was young yet he was easily slaughtered simply because of his long ears. The man who did the deed did not care for what he has done. He merely ground his teeth and went out of the house.
Oswin dragged his saber towards the remaining elf he was bound to kill. Fear was present in their eyes, reflecting the demon that is Oswin right now. This was nothing personal. Oswin merely does what he was asked to do. He was no pet. But he was bound and honored to kill his share for hands can only be filled with so much.
“Pray tell what your last words are.”
The cowering Elf froze still. Her eyes merely stolid, hope was not found. She stared at Oswin without any single fear. Her green iris turned white and she suddenly violent cackled.
“Cold eyes, dead eyes, a man and woman in the north, the woman with moon-hair, sparking with energy, like a stilled lake brimming with blue, the man, with courage, with the hand of nature, splitting the tiniest of things, an iron egg, a mushroom cloud.”
Oswin drew his silversword instead as he steps back. The woman who went into trance floated up the air. Her eyes glowing, her hair fluttering wildly as she emits an eerie voice.
“Gray skin meets, the rule of those ash skins, meeting in a stump, two hands held together, a seed sowed inside a womb, happy smiles, a monstrous man, a bearer of dread and a woman with a smile. Deformed ears out of Magic, eyes of gold, healed, sleeping, amidst the mask, a wronged slaughterer, the meeting of gray, the talk in the bonfire changes all things.”
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Oswin stayed still, listening to the woman whose energy was bursting. He was a mere man and he could not allow himself to get near or he will burst.
“Hair of rust with streaks of white, shredded skin, electrified heart, knower of otherworldly, demon for some, a savior for some, beloved by the hair of sky, the woman, and the man, shall be the one that would end it all. Blood, and talk, the latter the only thing that gray ruler will say, will be talk, the man, who called himself savior, the woman who called himself villain, will rule the men and women to stand down, enmity will be gone, yet the vile humans will strive, giving the men, and the women to laugh at the sky dried.”
“May earth may dance” continued the woman, “the walls breeches, shelters for Etherwind, the walk on branches, bakers of bread, loved by townsfolk, hiding their nature within deceit. Know this, men and women of the south. Thy let the roaming evil sleep and peace shall happen, let the man see dread and all shall meet the end of magic. Gunpowder, a weapon, brimmed with black, gilded steel that shoots metal, arsenals of dread, made by humans, carried to this world by a soul who wandered. Know that evil will lead him, know that doing so would trigger the end. For the man is fickle, his glass hears will turn into a void that swallows all.”
The woman suddenly shouted loudly.
‘CONDEMED THE MAN AND LET THY MUSHROOM CLOUDS RISE. ALL SHALL NOT BE FORGIVEN. ALL SHALL NOT BE HASTENED FOR THE EVIL THAT SITS WILL DRY THE WORLD OF MAG-“
An arrow entered at the back of the woman. The arrow pierced through the woman’s throat and suddenly the force around the woman vanished. Oswin took this chance to bolt straight at the woman, brandished his silversword and finished the woman’s heart.
The elf that went into a trance died just like that. Oswin turned to the direction where the arrow was and then nodded at the Archer who saved him.
Oswin sheathed his silversword back to its scabbard and then killed the last ones in the house. After that, he went out of the house and stopped for a second. He tapped his sole and then clenched his fist. His eyes could see the murder around.
He was no saint. He was not good nor was he truly evil. He merely obeyed the task out of fear and wanting to be recognized.
Yet his heart was in turmoil. The bloody slaughter left a metal taste in his mouth. His body was heavy as a steel, and he felt like he would collapse any moment. He wanted to sleep, yet there was still a lot of executions that he will have to attend, for merely he just a regular soldier in a war against the enemies.