Treading the Dawn

[Miasmata]

Chapter One:
The Knight Before the Dawn

“It is vital that we turn each and every dark tear into a pearl of wisdom, and find the blessing in every curse.”

Anticipation clawed at Eldarian’s chest as he stared out at the horizon.

“Galad! Dis' here rain chills to da bone, don’t it? E’ery drop be like a wee li’le knife cuttin’ inta ye.” The stablehand, named Todd, smiled up at Eldarian through the blustery night’s weather. Todd was a gray-haired man with missing teeth and wrinkles so deep they formed creases upon his brow. He was simple but had a kind heart and was an extremely hard worker.

Todd placed the hand lantern closer to the taller man’s hood, and shadows danced across his golden features with the movement. “Get some well-deserved rest, Todd.” Eldarian murmured as he slightly turned toward the elder man. “I know some days you rise earlier than I.”

“Ye been waitin’ e’ery night dis month ta see a horse gallopin’ up with no rider, ain’tcha?” Todd’s chapped lips fell into a heavy frown as he looked at Eldarian. Not even the sting of the cold rain could make him flinch as he scrutinized the Dawnknight with a hint of worry.

“Duty,” the knight replied easily, as if it were already on the tip of his tongue.

“Ye ain’t fond of leavin’ a man behind, huh?” Todd hobbled a few steps away to find shelter under the weather-beaten overhang of the stables. He placed the lantern on a nearby hay bale and let the soft glow wash over him.

“No,” Eldarian admitted with a trace of bitterness as he turned back to the road leading out of Beregost. “Especially not one of my own.”

Todd opened his mouth to try and lend some comforting words but they caught in his throat; all that was offered was a wisp of breath that carried upon the wind and scattered in silence. He was in the Amn-Gate war. He understood what it was like to wait on someone that wasn’t coming back, even if you held onto a sliver of hope.

His trembling fingers groped at a pocket on his breast as he pulled out a wooden pipe; with a touch of love and experience he quickly packed it with tobacco and then uttered a word of magic. With satisfaction he watched as a flicker of fire appeared within its bowl and then he placed it to his lips and began to puff.

His gaze turned back on the lone knight in front of him, steeped in all the glory of silence and solitude. The chilled rain met his armor in a succession of harmonious spatters that lent a melody to the untrained ear. The wind tugged against his golden cloak and hood in a fevered dance to rid him of warmth.

And yet . . . there he stood. Still. Statuesque in his poise and determined in his demeanor. Eyes stuck ever to the southern horizon.

Waiting for something that may never come.

“Rumors ‘re startin’ to crop up ‘bout ye regardin’ the simple folk, Commander.” Todd stated between a few puffs of his pipe. The snorts of the nearby horses weren’t enough to fill the silence between them anymore.

“How so?” Came the quiet response from the Dawnknight as one of his golden brows crinkled in contemplation.

“They still got eyes,” Todd stated in colorful reply as his lips curled upward in a minute smile, “they see ye standin’ here night after night. They be superstitious folk. They know yer a paladin. . .” He puffed the last vestiges from his pipe as the nutty, oat-like aroma began to fade.

The gloved fingers on Eldarian’s right hand twitched, briefly. The stablehand took it as a sign to continue.

“They say yer seein’ somethin’ normal folk can’t. They’re thinkin’ trouble be brewin’.” Todd scratched at the wiry stubble on his chin.

A solemn frown found its way onto Eldarian’s lips. His golden-flecked eyes trailed over the horizon for a long time in the darkness before he replied, simple but honest. “There is.”

Hesitation and silence snaked its way between them for a long time before Todd finally pushed himself off the wall of the stable and made to leave. His old bones were beginning to ache from the cold and rain and his mind begged for rest from a hard day’s work.

No farewells were given. He decided it was best to leave the knight to his own thoughts and his solemn duty. Only after Todd had shuffled halfway down the street and almost around a corner had he finally decided to gaze back at the lone Dawnknight for a split second.

His eyes caught the fluttering of a brilliant golden cloak amidst a sea of darkness.

[Miasmata]

Chapter Two:
Setting of the Sun

“In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life. It goes on.”

It had been a hard road.

The youthful paladin had already seen things in his life that no man or woman should ever be exposed to; the trials he had experienced were fierce and unforgiving and there were so many of them he had lost count since taking his first step onto the Sword Coast.

He slowly halted in the middle of the path as his eyes settled upon the shrine to Lathander in the distance. The night was deep and shadows clung heavily to the nearby trees, but the shrine was illuminated so much that it chased the darkness away. His lips parted to utter a verse with a heavy heart as he came to a halt.

“. . . And as the blackest clouds came upon them, they looked at what pride and evil had wrought -- and despaired. The deep dark before the dawn’s first light seemed cruel and eternal, and the land had suffered a thousand wrongs. . .”

He let out a breath and continued to recite the scripture that came to mind.

“. . . and he was burdened with the stings from a hundred arrows, and had suffered ailments both great and small. . .”

The wind whipped cruelly at his resplendent golden cloak as if it knew of his intentions. A feeling of bitterness overcame him as he shed it and left it untouched upon the muddied ground before taking a single step forward.

“. . .All things in this world are finite. What one man gains, another has lost. Those who steal from their brothers and sisters do harm to their livelihood and to their peace of mind. Our Lord sees this with a heavy heart. . .”

His golden-flecked eyes moved to the single piece of cloth tied around his elbow. The white, thin thread danced freely in the wind. So many memories , his mind roared in protest, even as his gloved fingers moved to untie it. He held it in between two fingers for a fleeting moment before he released it. The gusts greedily snatched it away from him and he watched until it soared out of his vision for all of eternity. He took another single step forward.

“In the absence of light, shadows thrive. So down they fled into darkness and despair. . .”

Eldarian moved to take off both of his gloves. The fingertips had been stained crimson red from countless battles and lives justly taken by his own hand. He dropped and left the gloves on the ground, then, as he took another single step forward. He raised his naked hands, palms upward, in front of him in a reverent manner as he continued to recite scripture. His gaze hesitated on the mark around his wrist; a mark black as night, swirling continuously over his flesh in a perfect circle. His eyes pulled back to the shrine and he raised his chin.

“No matter his power; no matter his triumphs, he was a man; and doomed to die. Let the blade pass through my flesh, let my blood touch the ground, let my cries touch their hearts.”

He took a breath. He was half-way there. The shrine was in sight now, beckoning him in all its magnificent glory. His naked fingers moved to the strap at his inner forearms and he slipped off both of his bracers. They fell to the ground as he took a single step forward.

"Seek the light, for the wicked take root in the darkest corners."

[Miasmata]

Chapter Three:
Dawn’s Last Kiss

“You cannot turn love on and off; all you can do is wall it off one brick at a time until you’ve created an impenetrable fortress around your emotions and camouflage it so well that even you cannot see it anymore.”

[Theme]

The soft rustle of grass wrinkling beneath the boots of a paladin and druidess carried along the field of wildflowers like a quiet omen.

Eldarian’s naked fingers wrapped around the smaller, dainty digits of the druidess’ as they walked; hers were trembling and so he constantly reaffirmed his grip to lend comfort to the woman. He would show her that he was proud of her; proud of her despite the path that they were treading at this very moment.

The scent of orange and lavender floated toward him constantly as they walked. He leaned over to kiss the woman’s head, his lips finding purchase on long copper hair before the perfume of pine needles and honey overwhelmed him. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment as he committed it to memory.

“It is duty,” she repeated in a hoarse tenor and he knew she was saying it more for her own comfort than anything else.

“I know,” he replied in a soft tone. His mind screamed at him; thrashed against the boundaries of good judgment and panicked like a child who didn’t know what else to do. Tell her she doesn’t have to do this, you fool! His lips pursed together. Tell her that she’s making a mistake; show her the folly of it all. "I know," he echoed once more. It was all he could think of.

A large and gnarled oak tree finally came into view as they waded through the tall wildflowers. Berea’s other hand was out, dancing along the gentle petals as they swayed with the wind. He knew it afforded her some measure of comfort; some measure of peace. He glanced toward her and watched the profile of her features as they walked. Her stormy grey eyes flickered up at him and he could already see the hurt that was swelling up inside.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he whispered with a wavering smile that broke a moment later. They hadn’t been together for long, not by a long shot, but those months with her had marked him deeply. It had shaped him, forged him into a different man that he was proud of. He knew, even now, that the memory of her would haunt his own. It would be a torch he’d carry for much too long, even after it had snuffed out and left nothing but darkness.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she confessed as they slowed their pace. The rustle of the oak tree foliage above them sounded like eerie, bittersweet whispers. “I’m losing everything,” she told him as she flung herself against his chilly metal shell. For a moment, Eldarian lamented he had it on; her last memories of him would be the stark chill of his armor against her pleasantly warm coat. He wrapped his armored limbs around her in an embrace.

“Do not fret my Light,” he murmured as he placed a lingering chaste kiss on her forehead. “Know that wherever you are, the wind will whisper my love to you and kiss you to sleep for me.” His own words caused an ache in his heart – a ghostly pain with slivers of hurt and sorrow. He felt her wipe at her tears that had silently fallen between them and she pulled back to regard his features for the last time. A thumb darted up and against his golden skin and swept along the bristle of his jaw for a few moments.

“I love you Eldarian,” she stated with a break in her voice.

”I love you, Berea,” he replied as his features crumpled in pain.

She moved to pull away from him completely but at the last minute he reached out and his digits caught her own. Silence budded between them for what seemed like an eternity as her fingers slipped from his a little more with each breath.

“My only regret is that I did not shatter that mask of yours, Berea Merriman,” he stated as his eyes traced over her features in despair; he knew he was losing her. He knew he might never see her again and this rattled him to his core.

In an instant her lips were upon his, her fingers tangling ardently in his blonde hair as streams of tears wet her cheeks and the well-groomed beard he'd grown to please her. Her chin trembled in the action but her kiss was as sure as the first she had shared with him; as telling of her love for him as any she had visited upon him in the last months of their courtship. He heard a deep, ragged sob as it strangled in her chest and her imaginary mask shattered into a thousand pieces before him. It would be the last kiss they would share.

”Hgs athair choinneail do,” she cried as she whirled away from him, gesticulating toward the oaken bark as she spoke through her sobs.

He tried to hold onto her, even as the apex of their fingertips slowly slid out of one another’s hands; but it was too late. She had disappeared with a sob into the bark of the tree to leave him standing, alone and immobile, within the field of flowers.

He glanced over the gently rolling countryside filled with endless bright flowers and swaying trees and for the first time in his life beauty was lost on him. No reflection was to be allowed now, not one glance was to be cast back; not even one forward. Not one thought was to be given either to the past or the future; he merely withered in silence and sadness as his golden-flecked eyes settled where his lover had left him.

It was a dull feeling, his heart breaking, like the sound of a pebble dropping on the sand. Not a shattering, not a tearing apart, there was nothing shrill or grandiose about the sensation. It was merely an internal realization that something he had treasured had left forever.

The end of it all came crashing down upon him like a cold rain falling on a gloomy autumn day.

[Miasmata]

Chapter Four:
A Touch of Dawnfire

“Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.”

The priest’s face overflowed with fire and passion as he observed the massive sea of people below him within the East Gate District of Baldur’s Gate.

His voice flowed outward in warm and inviting tones despite the steely white grip on the lectern. His stance was resolute and not once had he yet wavered in speech, even with the judgmental whispers and occasional heckler.

”Excuse me,” Eldarian muttered as he did his best to weave through the throng of people in his bulky, plated armor to reach the heart of the crowd. An intent gaze darted left and right to consider those nearby, looking to their hands and features to make sure nothing was amiss. A small pack of ragged children darted underneath his brilliant golden cloak and disappeared with a few airy giggles.

Brother Ameris’s words soared once more over the crowd. “What is different, to my eyes, is how the flow of coin here benefits all people. . .not just a few.” There was a strict sense pride to his words as his hands lofted into the air, high and wide to make his point. A red cord was visible upon his left hand, wrapped neatly around his wrist to proclaim his faith. He would not cower from it, even in the face of threats.

A dark cloak fluttered in and out of Eldarian’s peripheral. His gaze snapped to the right out of habitual awareness and he turned slightly with a crinkled brow to place the owner. The paladin only met the same attentive faces of garbed commoners and peasants that sat shoulder to shoulder. Sun-kissed features faintly soured in confusion as he turned back to his brother upon the stage.


The orator's arms were now slightly lowered, beckoning instead toward the crowd as he spoke to them. “No. Here, in this great city, a citizen is free to buy and sell in his own right.” Each finger splayed wide and the man’s brows arched as his mouth opened to deliver his next inspirational line.


None came.


A delicate shattering of glass answered in response to Ameris’s proclamations; Eldarian’s head only just tilted at the sound, one pointed ear rising to try and place where it came from. He watched as Ameris froze in place, mouth agape and eyes opened wide. The priest’s features were slowly twisting into something akin to pure horror.

The paladin’s golden-flecked eyes slowly stole away from the priest and shifted to the crowd. Time slowed for Eldarian as pandemonium struck the heart of inspiration that had birthed just moments ago. A billowing and intense cloud of bright reds and yellows swept through a few people behind the paladin before its snaking fingers reached for him and curled him in a fiery embrace.

He felt a lash of pain on the bronzed cheek closest to the blast. Fiery fingers plunged down his nose and throat and stole the breath from his chest as he was surrounded. He closed his eyes tight amidst it all but light still glittered and danced beyond, unrelenting in its power. The roar of the flames met his pointed ears and masked all else. His golden cloak, unscathed, fluttered in the explosion’s breeze in a casual manner.

It burned. It burned and was unrelenting in its course as it moved past him and toward other more unfortunate victims in its wake. When the roar finally subsided and the crushing heat was no more, Eldarian’s eyes fluttered open. He was, aside from the burn upon his cheek, untouched. His Lord had given him the strength to overcome.

The knight of Lathander was the only one left standing.


”Dawnfire,” came the hissing curse from dried lips. His tongue was unusually heavy and his mouth filled with cotton.

He was slammed back into the moment. Screams echoed all around him; screams from the living, fleeing from the fiery blasts and into nearby streets; screams from those that lie on the ground about him, crying and wailing in pain. Screams that rattled him to his core to the point where he was held in place.


“Oh Gods. . .oh gods. My wife! My daughter!” One man screamed as he fell to his knees in anguish, his singed arms wrapping two bodies in his hands. Half of his hair had been matted and the other half burned away, but the sailor didn’t even seem to notice as he rocked back and forth. Misery took hold as tears fell and created stark lines upon his face, removing the ash and cleansing it.

”That monster! That bastard!” Captain Galler cried out as his footsteps carried through the red river and toward the priest upon the stage as he began to descend.

One naked hand pulled toward Eldarian’s visage from the street. The fingers were nearly singed and visibly shaking before they fell back toward the red stained cobblestones and a last, pitiful breath was taken. Eldarian took his own breath at the same time, bursting full of life and health.

"Don't just stand there, help!" Veys Cander yelled as he bent around Eldarian and to the bodies that encircled him to check to see if any of them were still alive. All that mostly remained was a blood and fire stained cobblestone road. The smell of burned flesh wove thickly in the air around them.

Righteous fury began to rattle in the paladin’s chest and heart as he strode forward to check the body of a nearby young woman who seemed to still be breathing. He bent and placed a few fingers toward her neck and the middle of her wrist. His gaze was locked upon the small rise and fall of her chest. He still had time to save her. He could still. . .

A vision of two ghastly children, one boy and one girl, stuttered into existence before Eldarian; a ghostly giggling accompanied their entrance. Eldarian’s usually warm and vibrant sun-kissed features faltered.

”You did this.” They spoke in sober unison, their youthful voices cruel in their judgment and accusation. ”Murderer!” They chanted gleefully, in the same sing-song tone.”Murderer!” They called again, pointing at the paladin as he spoke a word in Celestial and placed his gloved hand upon the barely breathing woman. She sputtered as new life wove into her through divine intervention.

”Murderer!” The word echoed all about him, suffocating him in the blame and struck his heart like the cruelest knife.

--------------------------------------------

The paladin’s breath was quick and succinct as his eyes opened to a silky curtain of platinum tresses that spilled upon his features. One of his hands grasped around a petite wrist; fingers tight and trapping the woman’s seeking fingers in his steely grip. A small trickle of sweat cascaded down his forehead.

”You were murmuring in your sleep again,” she whispered to drown out the roar of his heart in his ears. The luminous visage of the woman leaned down once he was fully awake to rest her head between the crook of his neck and shoulder. She placed a delicate and understanding kiss upon the golden skin as he whispered an apology and released her from his hold.

”I have you,” she said in a gentle tone as she pulled closer to him to offer her support and warmth. ”I have you,” she repeated as his heart slowed and his eyes gradually closed once more.