The forest was shrouded in darkness, the trees above obscuring the slivers of moonlight that attempted to pierce through. Ash moved silently, his steps quiet as he navigated the familiar path toward Gareth's cabin. Casandra was deep in sleep back at their temporary camp. Ash had waited patiently until nightfall, until he was certain she wouldn’t wake, before setting out on his own. There was a conversation he needed to have—a conversation best held in solitude.
The cabin came into view, its weathered structure blending into the shadows of the forest. Ash paused at the edge of the clearing, observing the figure seated on a log in front of the cabin. Gareth the Grey, the once-renowned knight, was staring up at the stars, his face illuminated by the faint light of the heavens. The old man’s posture was relaxed, but there was a heaviness in the way he sat, as though the weight of the world had settled on his shoulders.
Without a word, Ash stepped forward, crossing the clearing and sitting down beside Gareth on the log. He didn’t announce his presence or offer a greeting. Instead, he simply sat, his gaze following Gareth’s up to the sky. The silence between them was thick but not uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that existed between people who had nothing to prove to one another, a shared stillness that spoke louder than words.
For what felt like an hour, they remained like that—two men lost in their own thoughts, yet connected by the quiet night. Finally, it was Gareth who broke the silence, his voice low and rough. “What are you doing here, young man?”
Ash glanced at him, a faint smile on his lips. “If you were planning on killing yourself, I figured you might appreciate some company until the end.”
Gareth’s head snapped toward Ash, surprise flickering across his worn features. The old man had been prepared for many things, but not this. “How did you know?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and disbelief.
Ash shrugged casually, his eyes drifting back to the stars. “In my life, I’ve met many people close to death, some on the brink of dying. There’s a certain look in their eyes—a kind of resignation, a loss of will to live. You’ve got that same look.”
A bitter laugh escaped Gareth’s lips, and he shook his head, a self-deprecating smirk forming on his face. “You must have had a hard life to recognize something like that at your age.”
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Ash chuckled softly, but there was a certain sadness in his voice. “I’ve had a good life. It was better than most, certainly it was better than yours I assume,” he replied, though the weight behind those words suggested a far more complex truth.
The silence returned, only broken by the occasional rustle of leaves in the night breeze. They sat together, two men from vastly different worlds, united by a shared understanding of suffering and loss. Ash waited patiently, giving Gareth the time he needed to decide what to say next, if anything at all.
After a few minutes, Ash broke the silence again, his voice gentle. “Do you want to tell me your story?”
Gareth’s shoulders tensed, and he shook his head firmly, the smile on his face turning into something more painful. “Someone like me doesn’t deserve that,” he said, his voice tinged with regret. “I deserve to die alone, without anyone by my side. It’s better if no one knows my story, so I can fade away without a trace. It’s the least I can do for those people and this world.”
Ash stood up, brushing off the dirt from his pants, and turned to face Gareth. His expression was unreadable, a mix of empathy and something more. “I don’t know what happened in your past, old man,” Ash said softly, “so I can’t say whether that’s too much or exactly what you deserve. But what I do know is that my friend and I need you. We’ve got a bunch of idiots who need to be turned into knights, and you’re the only one who can do that.”
Gareth shook his head again, more forcefully this time. “I don’t need a legacy, boy. I’ve had enough of that. I’ve done my share of fighting and teaching, and look where it’s gotten me. There’s nothing left for me to give.”
Ash leaned down, placing a hand on Gareth’s shoulder, his grip firm. “Maybe you don’t need a legacy, but we need you. And if you’re so determined to disappear after all this, then I’ll make you a deal. Train our people, help us out, and when it’s all done, I’ll personally make sure you’re forgotten. I’ll finish you off myself and bury you in a place where no one will ever know who you were.”
Gareth looked up at Ash, searching his face for any sign of deceit or manipulation. He found none—only the earnestness of a man who had seen too much of the world and was asking for one last favor. Gareth’s gaze softened, though he didn’t quite realize it. The bitterness that had consumed him for so long seemed to loosen its grip, if only for a moment.
“You’re a strange one, boy,” Gareth finally said, his voice quieter than before. “Offering to kill a man after asking for his help.”
Ash smirked, his usual easygoing demeanor returning. “I’ve been told that before. Besides you’re a strange old man. Just know that I keep my promises.”
Gareth sighed, the tension in his body slowly dissipating. “I’ll think about it seriously this time,” he murmured, his eyes once again turning to the stars.
Ash nodded, satisfied with the answer for now. He gave Gareth one last look before turning and walking back into the forest, leaving the old knight alone with his thoughts.
As he made his way back to camp, Ash couldn’t help but smile as he looked up. As a servant of the twin Goddess of Death Ash had both gathered the souls of those about to die and delivered them to the NetherRealm. He had seen many types of people innocent ones, evil ones, hopeless ones, and broken ones. Gareth was a broken man, but there was still something inside him worth saving. And if anyone could pull that out, it would be the group who needed him most.
By the time Ash returned, the camp was quiet, Casandra still fast asleep. He settled down beside her. He’d planted the seed, and now, all he could do was wait for it to grow. When they returned in the morning either they would find a man ready to go on living or find a crospe. Either way, they would leave the forest.