One's Possible Pasts

[InTheFlesh]

Stepping up boldly, One put out his hand
He said: “I was just a child then;
Now I’m only a Man.” - Roger Waters

1346 DR

Rhaeg had to look away. Away from her slightly swollen face, her high eyebrows, mostly-shaven head, as he processed what they’d discussed while life ebbed from her body. He looked at her blooded tabard and the breastplate that he’d cracked open like an egg, the weight of his morningstar still cratered into the snow beside them.

They spoke of many things; of why they’d fought, of righteousness and justice and all things good. He tried to convey to her that it was a war of souls, and she tried to convince him that it was a war of decencies. But there was no epiphany to be found in either of what they’d heard from the other, merely two righteous warriors willing to fight and die for their beliefs.

And now one had. He sighed somberly through his piggish nostrils and gently dragged his fingertips down her eyelids. It had just occurred to him that she’d gone still some minutes ago, the trickle of blood slowly ebbing and flowing down her Ilmateri tabard. Rhaeg moved over to his pack and was about to rummage for his shovel to begin the long process of burying their bodies in the snow - when a familiar stench reached him over the bitter air.

It was always right within arm’s reach, but now it was stronger, and thrice as unwelcome.