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The Broken Path

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Anna Evanovich
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Joined: 21 Aug 2012
Posts: 18

PostPosted: Tue Aug 20, 2013 2:01 pm Post subject: The Broken Path Reply with quote

Anna Evanovich’s armored steed lifted its right fore-leg and casually brought its heavy hoof down, crushing a small black scorpion that had wandered too close. Looking down, Anna smiled; it was the first time she had smiled in a great while. Nearly a year had passed since she left the City of Britain and her friends at the Emerald Trade Company. She had been recalled to Trinisc by the Patriarch of her Order and sent into the wilds of Sosaria to hunt down and destroy a band of savage vampires that were plaguing a new settlement. It had taken her over a month to hunt them down and another month to find the source of the plague; the first vampire who had sired the others. The creature had been clever and was highly skilled at deception and slight of hand but eventually, with the aid of several of the towns brave folk, she managed to root out the creature and slay her. The town was freed of its nightmare and its inhabitants grateful. Anna had redeemed herself … or so she thought.

Upon her return to Trinisc it was made known to her that the Patriarch, the Father of her Order and Keeper of the Vows had, unbeknownst to anyone, broken nearly every vow he had ever taken along with several of the Virtues. For years he had secretly funneled funds, donated by the faithful for the care and feeding of the Knights, into his own coffers. He had also sold a number of holy relics from which he personally profited. He had entered into agreements with known bandits who waylaid and robbed innocent pilgrims. And he had kept a woman, a prostitute who later bore him a son. These revelations and others of greater or lesser trespass sent Anna into a deep depression. If the man she considered above all transgressions; man well on the path to sainthood could be so corrupt and so immoral, then how could a lesser being, like herself, expect to find and live a pure life? Were the vows she took a mockery of human existence? Were the Virtues merely a suggestion?

Anna left Trinsic and lost herself in the wilds of Sosaria. She ventured into the darkest dungeons and threw herself at the most dangerous creatures known. She ate flesh and drank blood. She killed and maimed. She drank herself into mindless stupors and gave herself to men of low repute. She renounced her vows of Chastity, Poverty and Obedience. She embraced her humanity and celebrated her body as never before. Yet, her soul cried out for some spark to tell her there was more to this life than the basest instincts. For were not humans above the beasts? Could humans not reason? Could humans not find redemption?

Every creature she subdued that could speak and reason she asked the same question; “Where do I find redemption?” None could answer her. Once, while hacking her way through The Sorcerers Dungeon beneath Terort Skitas, she bested a powerful daemon and, pressing her armored boot against its throat, she asked the question. The Daemon laughed a deep scornful laugh and in a rasping voice answered;

“Foolish human. Do you not know there is no such thing as redemption? Have you not learned that the path of humanity is never straight and the Virtues, although noble in their intent, cannot be followed blindly nor can they save anyone from their own pitiful and lonely existence? I have witnessed many humans who came to this realm seeking salvation and affirmation of their faith and, in the end, saw them weep with the knowledge of their own frailty and mortality. I tell you this human; you can seek to live the Virtues, follow them, preach them to any who might listen, but you can never embody them or become them. To attempt to do so or to think you can is madness and leads to only one possible end.”

Anna lifted her boot off the Daemon’s neck. “And what end is that?” she asked.

“Total and absolute corruption.” The Daemon answered.

Anna let the Daemon live, left the dungeon, and traveled the land alone for several more months before she found herself atop this hillock overlooking the City of Britain. She was tired beyond reason. Her armor damaged beyond repair; its luster long since tarnished. Her weapons and shield cracked and dulled. The path she had set her foot upon; the path that was going to lead to her redemption and affirm her faith was broken. She was no longer a Knight of the Order. She was no longer a virtuous woman. But her soul still burned with a need to serve. To cleave herself to a cause greater than herself. She yearned to find some aspect of her existence that meant something. That her life and her skills could make a difference. That she could still be human, embrace the weaknesses of being human, and still walk the path of the Virtues.

She sat atop that hillock for several hours numbly watching the city below. Her mind fell silent and her sorrow clawed its way deep into the recesses of her heart where it would dwell in silence and trouble her no further. Perhaps there still was a way to serve; a way to remold herself, a way to find the truth in what she was. Jerking the reins she ambled down the hillock and entered the City of Britain. “The path,” she reminded herself, “sometimes leads back to the beginning.”
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