When I was a boy, my father was killed in battle. Had it been any nameless mercenary, I doubtless would have been unable to track them down. However, the man who slew my father was none other than the infamous Boar Blade himself—the feared leader of Hoarish Company. His death fell forty-eight years ago on this day. The day I had decided I would exact revenge.

I had always struggled with finding a purpose in this world, drifting between jobs, never staying in one place. Mercenary work didn’t suit me, and neither did adventuring. I never found it easy to make friends, and in this world, you kind of needed them. So here I was, a man far past his prime, trying to find and kill someone who I wasn’t even sure was still alive.

But it didn’t matter. I had nothing left. Nothing but my connections from my younger days. With those connections, it was trivial to track down the Boar Blade. He’d relocated to a middling oceanside town on the western coast of Kommodia; Demarcos. He lived alone but was reportedly visited often by friends. I needed to get in, and get out.

The plan was simple; I would take a carriage from Hamelan to Rudel, then ferry from Rudel to Demarcos. There, I would find the building and figure out the right time for me to kill him. I needed him to be awake. I needed him to answer for his crimes. If he were asleep, it would be easy, but I didn’t want easy. Somewhat paradoxically, I didn’t want to end up fighting whoever it was visiting him. I was skilled with a blade, but outmatched by many—if his friends were strong, I’d be the one dying.

Days flew past marred red and black by visions of killing and blood; before I knew it, I was standing on the Demarcos dock, resolute in my murderous convictions.

To my dismay, when I found him, I didn’t find a vicious murderer—I found an old man at life’s end, sitting in his rocking chair. His face worn by age but tempered by mirth, a content light twinkling in his eyes. A fireplace crackled at the far end of the room, beside it rested a massive greatsword. This was a man who had moved past death, found purpose far beyond it. Someone who had something worth living for.

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Even still, my hand began to inch towards the hilt of my blade, but I stilled it; what right did I have to take this man’s life? He’d killed my father, yes, and I had loved him, but… He’d made his choice, hadn’t he? And now I had to make mine. Was I going to kill someone for something so long passed? Was I going to end his happy life to “save” the fractured image of my father I had from my youth?

This wasn’t right, and I knew it. I knew it, and I’d still gone all this way intending to kill him. And now here I was, hesitating, telling myself, asking, why?

I knew deep down I wouldn’t be happy if I spilled this man’s blood, nor would my father smile upon me from the Heavens for the act.

Suddenly, the man began to speak from his chair.

“If you are here to kill me, you may. I won’t fight you.” A sad smile crossed over his elderly face. “Taka and Beriyl can protect themselves now… I suppose they won’t need me anymore.”

Under his breath the words were a faint whisper, barely audible.

“Yes… they’re strong. So strong.”

“How did you-?!”

“…Even in my old age, I haven’t forgotten the sins I committed. I killed…” he paused to heave a tired sigh. “…so many people. It’s a crime I will atone for, for the remainder of my life. As I have for the last forty-three years.”

I didn’t know what to say. So I swore under my breath, turned on my heel, and began to storm away as frustrated tears poured over and spilled down my cheeks.

I couldn’t do this. No.

“I forgive you,” I managed, as I tore away from the house and disappeared into the town.

I needed to clear my head with a stiff drink. But I wasn’t going to kill him. Hells, maybe I could come back later and talk, and get answers, get closure. I didn’t know what to ask, but I’d think about it. I always did have good ideas when I drank.

The life in that home continued without me. My absence went unnoticed, as two men joined hand-in-hand entered, and greeted the old man. A joyous smile lit up his face, his eyes shimmering like a mirror to his redeemed soul.

“Welcome home, Taka, Beriyl.”