Udine
11th Day of Autumn
767 Karloman’s Peace
Ekkehard stared into the pitch-black waters below, their depths reflecting the vacant despair in his eyes. The surface shimmered as something struck it. Tears fell from Ekkehard’s face, unbidden and unnoticed.
He was on all fours, perched on the edge of the boulder overlooking the pond. The weather had calmed and left behind the secret, wet, earthy smells that only rain uncovered. His contemplations were framed by the quiet rustling of trees, and he felt a sudden weightlessness, as if the waters had devoured his troubled memories.
He felt empty.
His breathing grew heavy, struggling against panic, and his heart raced.
Something shifted beneath the water.
Ekkehard flinched, lurching backwards as the outline of a pale face rose from the depths, stopping just beneath the surface. The visage was shrouded by the image of his reflection and some parody of his own soul starred at him from within the abyss.
The shock snapped Ekkehard out of his thoughts, and he blinked hard, focusing on the water. Spots of photopsia fuzzed his vision, which cleared as he looked again.
The face was gone.
The trickery of moonlight, nothing more.
Rolling onto his back and squinting, he stared up through the clearing into the night sky, partly clouded yet revealing patches of stars. Ekkehard took comfort in the expanse of the universe, in the realm of the heavens.
Gradually, Ekkehard began to calm.
His breathing slowed, and he regained control. Despite not wanting to live, he realized he lacked the strength to end his own life. He had found comfort in prayer the day his family was slain. Now, gazing at the heavens, he found solace again.
At this thought, Ekkehard's jaw clenched.
‘No,’ he spat to the skies. ‘I need nothing from you.’
He sat upright and turned away from the night sky. He would not be tricked into being beholden to the gods ever again. This sudden flash of anger protected Ekkehard from the night air, stopping his shivers. Though his tunic and hair were soaked, a burning fire within kept him warm.
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Despite this, he didn't know what to do.
Returning to his brothers seemed pointless; it would be admitting defeat and he’d be no warmer or drier there.
The three of them had been fleeing for half a cycle, without supplies, and now, with the storm abated, their pursuers would likely catch up. There was no time for hunting or foraging, nor any nearby settlements from which to steal.
Ekkehard couldn't bear to rejoin his brothers only to watch them fall to battle or starvation. Even if that was certain without him, he refused to be witness to it.
Lost, Ekkehard looked up towards the slopes of the Udine Mountains and felt a kinship with them that called to him.
Standing tall and resilient, they endured daily assaults from wind, rain, and snow. They jutted defiantly into the sky, eternally challenging its reign. After a moment's contemplation, Ekkehard descended from the boulder and resumed his ascent of the mountains.
Perhaps, at least, the mountain air would clear his mind and help him think of a plan.
After about an hour of walking, Ekkehard reached the forest's edge. As the trees cleared, he was dwarfed by the massive silhouette of one of the Udine Mountains ahead. Turning to look back down the mountainside, he saw he was only about a quarter of the way up.
The Udine Mountains had four summits. Ekkehard was on the slopes of one of the middle peaks, with one peak to his west and the other two to the east. As the clouds parted, the moon and stars revealed the landscape and he could see the forest stretching for miles beyond.
He admired the night sky as its reflection shimmered in surface of the Danzig River.
This river, another of the region’s natural marvels, flowed south for thousands of miles. Originating in the Frozen Wastes of the Northeast beyond the Empire's territories, it ran south through the Northern Mountains, past the Hastfala Forest, and deep into the heart of the Empire, all the way to the Medician Sea. It was the longest river in the known world.
Looking south past the forest's treetops and across the expanse of the Empire, Ekkehard felt a fleeting moment of peace. In the darkness, everything appeared tranquil. For a moment, he could almost imagine the land wasn't infested with the corruption of selfish, heartless, greedy men. For a second, he could pretend that unspeakable atrocities weren't being committed by undeserving rulers upon undeserving victims that very night.
The peacefulness would not last, however, and soon it turned against him.
In the quiet, past torments whispered in the back of his mind, dragging him into memories of pain and anguish. He looked out onto the peaceful land, bile rising in his throat.
The tranquillity disgusted him.
This land should not be so abasing.
It should be outraged, burning white hot with anger, filled with self-loathing hatred for the evil it hosted.
It should not mindlessly tolerate obscenity and atrocity daily. It was a land of sheep enslaved by fat, diseased wolves. Ekkehard turned away from the vile sight and strode further up the mountain when something glinted at the corner of his eye.
In the distance, a small orange glow caught his attention, about halfway up the summit.
It puzzled him for a moment.
What could it be?
A campfire, perhaps, but who would be out here in these conditions?
Their pursuers? No, they wouldn't have passed unnoticed.
It must be someone else. Someone new.
‘Perhaps they have food,’ Ekkehard thought to himself, suddenly aware of his hunger. ‘Perhaps they will share, or if not, perhaps I can take it from them.’
He moved toward the light, but as he approached, he could discern figures in the flames. They moved and danced, and soon he recognized familiar shapes and shadows. As he drew closer to the distant camp, memories from his past played out once again before him, illuminated by the flickering flames.