Death is not at all what I thought it would be. I had personally anticipated living to a ripe old age and passing away silently in the night, not bleeding out on some jagged outcrop half a world away from home. But then again, I hadn’t expected any of this to happen. No, when I was back at my cottage, sitting around the hearth, all I fretted over was the lack of decent books on the shelf or the incompetence of my neighbors.
Perhaps it was these minuscule inconveniences that made me leap at opportunity when it knocked, throwing caution to the wind when the adventurer, Barran of Malborn, sought me out in the market, yelling “Orvyn Hartman” so loud it must have been heard three townships over. So, not willing to cause yet another scene, we moved our meeting to the inn as not to further peak the curiosity of the inquisitive townsfolk.
It was there that fate presented me the opportunity of a lifetime on a silver platter; Barran of Malborn, the renowned warrior and wanderer, wanted me, Orvyn, the simple scribe, cartographer, and gardener of whom Barran had only heard of through a mutual companion, to attend him on journey for wealth, land, and glory. According to his telling in the waterlogged, old inn, the war across the sea in the far off province of Viemar had finally ended. His country’s land was reclaimed. The enemy’s legions were spent and the Head General Bealohydig had fled.
Now that the troops were gone, an expedition could be safely sent to explore the foreign areas of Viemar without dismay. And that was where I came in. I was to document the trip and map out the mysterious and unknown places of the continent. In short, it wasn’t going to be some simple holiday. After some odd hours clarifying the technicalities over and over again, Barran and I stood at an understanding and was waiting for my response; would I join him in the unknown, or would I stay in comfort of familiarity. While I internally debated what my destiny in this quest would be, my brown eyes met his.
And in that moment, a decision was made, I reached across the rotting wooden table and met his hand in a confirming shake, pledging my life and future to the expedition. We left from the Bay of Mjoll a fortnight later, all twenty-three of us crammed on a narrow ship. It was there my job officially started. I updated the weather-worn travel log everyday, marking our progress over the blue-green sea. It was a lengthy journey, taking two months to get to our destination, yet in this time I was able to befriend the most noble of botanists, navigators, and trackers as well as Barran himself.
On the cold, rocky boat, we shared many a moment together. In these now precious occasions, I learned of his desire for glory and his wish for remembrance as well as his respect for those who were loyal, just and kept their hearts true. Within those hours, the both of us formed a bond of trust, unwavering and enduring After a long fifty-nine day journey, a mass of rock shaped like a talon cut through the mist like a blade. The expedition had landed in Viemar. Unloading all of our provisions onto the limestone beach stole the daylight from us.
Camp was made for the night and dinner was served, all of us in a mirthful mood. For then it appeared that Lady Luck was on our side, so far there were no casualties, storms, or surprise waiting for us on the shore. In fact, I thought it seemed too perfect. Something was off that I couldn’t quite grasp, yet despite my concerns, Barran urged us on over field and flower, through cave and crevice, all while a steady warning grew in my heart. My job, though simple through years of practice, was tedious. My hands cramped and eyes strained from staring at my compass.
I had not talked to Barran for days, but the need for it grew with every step I took. The precaution that had joined me when we arrived had taken hold of my heart and mind, strangling them, we were not alone. Tapproached Barran with an unknown determination. Looking straight into his now weary eyes, I spilled my fear for our safety. “Barran,”Thad began, “I do not know what, but something is following us. A warning has been growing in me, no matter what glory and wealth this expedition may lose due to this, we need to leave. ”
Yet instead of considering my judgement as he had done before, the kindness fell from his face and was replaced with a spiteful glare. “You wish for me to forsake my honor,” Barran started softly,” And turn back now?! You have no proof of our peril, no reason to-” he suddenly stilled as if collecting his rage. “You are conspiring against me, aren’t you? Do you wish to steal away as soon as we head back to take MY wealth and MY fame?! I can’t-” “BARRAN! ” | spat back at him. By now everyone was staring. “Can’t you hear yourself? You have turned from your values and from your honor!
I only wish for your safety. ” Staring at his once familiar face, now foreign to me, I added in a nearly silent voice “You have changed, Barran. Will you throw away your trust in me for fame and riches? ” “Yes. ” And with that, I left. For three days I wandered, the grief of betrayal clouding my senses as I tried to find my way back to the ship. I didn’t even realize the danger I was in until I saw the crimson flags of Bealonydig closing in around me. Unsheathing my sword, I had felt my courage falter, inhaling slowly, I watched the General grow closer, beckoning his men away as if to say “This one is mine.
Coming close to screaming for help, I pulled myself together and made the first move, surprising Bealonydig with my sudden aggression. Still, he slashed with the fury of a god, bringing his sword down to block mine. Amidst the clinking of our blades and my failing hope, a war horn of Malborn echoed across the land. “Barran is here! I am safe! ” I thought as relief washed over me. Yet as I had turned to catch a glimpse of expedition charging into battle, the jagged blade of the General forced its way through my back and out my chest, dripping crimson onto the earth. I slumped to the ground in defeat.
Tam now on my deathbed, in the middle of some forsaken skirmish, I can see the light fade from the sky and feel a pull to the other side, the voices of the past calling me home. There is another voice too, so familiar and close, that of Barran begging for forgiveness and apologizing for being so blind. I cannot answer him, my mouth will not move, my eyes are growing so heavy, and the voices are calling me to rest. I wish… I need for Barran to know he is forgiven, but perhaps my eyes tell him, for when I look at him, he falls silent. Farewell Barran, may the sun shine on your path.
