Work Text:
There are many ways to watch a world die.
With a curse on your lips, as your hand tightens around the sword or in in blazing anguish, your own scream unhumanly loud in your throat.
Dying on the run, far away from the battle lines. Dying on the steps of your childhood home, defending your family that will die together with the world.
The dying is constant. You’ve seen the end of the world through so many eyes, that you thought that it will hold no surprises for you.
But it’s different this time. It’s your life. Your eyes through which you see. Your hands which brought this on.
It’s your fault. Let’s not forget the most important part. This is all your fault.
How does it feel?
A lot like breaking your father’s cup and hearing the creaking of floorboards. Like smelling smoke and burning meat, and realizing: this is your family, burning at the stake.
It’s a familiar feeling, this nauseating drop of your stomach and the urge to vomit.
But when you are done retching, you laugh because there is nothing to be afraid of anymore. You are indeed the monster you always thought you were. No heroes, no saviours: just you.
And you have a choice, in the guts of the world, offered by a guardian that guards nothing.
And you choose a new day.
Not for you.
Not for you.
But for someone else.
Sitting by the Beacon, you wonder how Jespar’s voice will sound when he tells your story. He has a beautiful voice. Will kings listen to it? Will the generals? Will anyone?
You listened to him, and if he had told you to stop… you’d have stopped. Probably. Most likely.
At the footsteps of the burning world, you believe that nothing is decided yet. You have placed a gift and a burden in the hands of a cynic: you have forced him to carry hope.
This is the light you see, when the world devours you.