The candlelight burnt dimly and illuminated the room in an ominous orange glow. Jegauer watched the light waver around the walls, disassociated and angry. The home he had built now felt so empty. There were none left to share it with him. None that he cared enough for to have around anyway, and those that he perhaps would’ve liked to see only brought with them pain upon their departure, leaving him to dwell on the past in that empty shell.
He wasn’t surprised the letter had found him true. No matter the distance he put between himself and the land that had wrought him, he was never far enough away. The content of the parchment was typical – filled with promises of fortune and fame. However, no mention of the cost. Jegauer knew that favours came at a cost, and any service done for him would be expected to be paid back tenfold in the future. And, he imagined, that payment would be lengthy… with no shortage of blood spilt.
The Bree-town Ripper had robbed him of his family, his honour, and his faith. Bree-land was meant to be a place where he could begin anew, away from the horrors of the world. But it seems that horror was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. He wondered what he had done for fate to curse him so. Even the justice delivered by his own had felt empty. Sure, knowing the man that had taken everything from him was gone brought some small comfort, but there was a question gnawing at him as he sat in that empty house in the forest: how many more?
How many more like him would come? How many more horrors? How many more dead? If not Praesule, then another snake would fill the void of its predecessor. He clenched his fist, staring now into the dying flame before him. There and then, he made a promise to himself. He would no longer be a puppet of fate. He would never walk naively into the world again. Instead, he would transform his mind, as he once had his body, into a weapon. Plundering the content of tomes and exploiting others for knowledge. Though, he would not be so wicked as those who had stolen everything from him.
They would inflict horrors on the world, and so he would inflict horrors on them. He would be the defender of the naive. Allowing them to live peacefully in bliss with him as their shield. He would talk to them, learn from them, befriend them and undoubtably wish he could be them. But that was not his fate. That day, he took fate into his own hands, he would be its master. He would whip it, beat it, make it bleed, and choose the path for others. He would meet with his “Master” but not as the boy he had once known, although he would play the part, beneath the surface would lurk a man. A dangerous man. One with his psyche steeled and his ambitions clear. He would build an empire from evil, and then use it to expel the darkness from the world. Nothing would stop him. He had nothing to lose. Everything in his life now was expendable. And, though he may prefer otherwise, he would sacrifice it all to achieve his goal. For no amount of evil he could inflict could outweigh the good he would do.
Night turned to dawn as he lay awake staring at the ceiling. When morn came, he readied his horse and trotted off down the trail – it was going to be a long journey. Though, he intended to collect on the promise of fortune, and turn that fortune into ash of the mouths of his enemies.
