The Hour of Death

The kiss of the cold steel, was both bitter and sweet. He did not mind the pain, quite frankly, he embraced it. It is true what they say, that when you are about to die, you CAN see your life flash before your eyes. That one moment, can for a second, seem like an eternity. It is in that one moment that you truly reminisce. You think of your sacrifices and achievements. On things that brought you joy, women you loved. People claim death is beautiful, they are horribly wrong. There is but one thing that fills your whole being, and make death so ugly.
 Regret.
Not because of what you have done, but because of what you did NOT. The hardest of promises to keep, are those that you make to yourself. Those that mean the world, those that gives you strength to carry on. But those promises fade with time. It may take months, perhaps decades. But the fact remain, you will forget. Death will make you remember those promises, and such a revelation cuts deeper than any blade.
 She giggled as he nuzzled her neck, playfully flailing with her arms. 'Aah, it tickles! Stop it and go shave, you hairy beast!', A meek smile curled up on his lips, as he leaned up to rest on an elbow. He stroked her cheek softly with the back of his hand. 'Hairy beast? You wound me, oh you fair maiden,' He grinned wolfishly, baring his stained teeth like the beast he was just described as. The wind blew fiercely and shook all the nearby trees, scattering leaves all over the meadow. The golden and rustbrown colors of the leaves brought beautiful colors to the otherwise gloomy landscape of Gilneas. Autumn was their favorite season, for obvious reasons. It was when the last leaves had fallen, that they met each other.
 He had just finished work, raking all the leaves together, carrying all the baskets and tools to the working shed. The sun had set, it was already dark outside. But this wasn't unusual, for he often got lost in thoughts, dreaming about becoming a famous painter. It was something about autumn, all the different colors gave a creative person inspiration. With his work done for the day, he left the mansion and made his way to the local pub. 'Get out of the way, peasant!' His dreams were rudely interrupted by a wagoner thundering down a slope. Had the man screamed a second later, he wouldn't have made it off the road in time. Drenched in mud he pressed himself up on his feet again, whilst dusting of his clothes the best he could.
 Life had a funny way of always reminding him of what he was, and who he was. A gardener, a drifter, a man without any joy in his life. 'A life without joy, is not worth living' An old man once told him, and that man was right. It was a harsh motto, but that doesn't make it any less true.
 Descending the final slope leading to the village, he could already hear the noise from the tavern. A jolly mixture of music and laughter. The small village was located in the northern headlands of Gilneas, close to the building site for the gate. As he approached the tavern, the door swung open and a man was thrown out before him, landing in the mud. He glanced up and met the bouncers fierce eyes. Then took a step over the man in the mud, and walked into the tavern. Thick smoke stung his eyes, along with a sour aroma of a mixture between vomit and alcohol. The staff of the tavern were already on it, cleaning away the vomit pasted on the counter of the bar. It was now obvious that the man outside in the mud had caused the mess.
 He finally got a seat by the bar, and there wasn't a trace of the earlier mess on the counter. The kitchen staff had erased the smell with the help of a stew. 'My poison is a bottle of red wine along with a glass of whiskey,' He snorted as he glanced at the barkeep, and in that moment it felt as if his heart stopped beating. He was greeted with the warmest of smiles, by the most beautiful of women. Long, wavey auburn hair. Deep sea, jade eyes. Just the right amount of freckles spread across her nose. 'Oh, I don't recall asking, deary.' Her warm smile twisted into a sly grin, she winked. 'I.. no.. you did not.' He stuttered forth, struggling with each word. He was out of breathe, for no apparent reason at all. 'Alright, laddy. D-d-don't choke on your words.' She winked again, this time in a more teasing manner, and served him his drinks. The craving was sudden, but real, he truly wanted this woman. He had never believed in love at first sight, but this barmaid proved him wrong.
 True love makes life worth living, you lose all yearning after material things such as wealth. Any person who disagree, has never truly, been in love. Suddenly his work as a gardener didn't seem so bad. Not when you have a gorgeous and loving partner to come home to in the evening. But nothing good truly lasts forever, does it?
 He came home late after work one day, his master had insisted the bushes needed another round with the hedge trimmer. The house was dark, cold and seemingly empty. A window stood open, the curtains flapping briefly in the wind that escaped through the narrow gap. He glanced about, and found a note resting on a table close to the door. Even though he couldn't read, Alica had made sure to teach him the most important words. 'Got called in, working late - Love, Alica,' the note said. He exhaled deeply through his nose in clear annoyance, but his growling stomach quickly got him onto other thoughts. Sniffing in the air, he caught the scent of todays dinner. Roasted salmon, boiled potatoes and a dillsauce. This brought a smile to his lips, had she made his favorite dish because she knew she had to work late? It didn't matter, he was thankful. He opened a cupboard and picked out a big plate, threw some potatoes onto it, placed a large slice of the salmon beside the potatoes, and drenched it all in the sauce. As he sat down and started slicing up the potatoes, a sudden knot made It's appearance in his gut. The kind of knot that suggests something is wrong, as if the universe itself is trying to tell you something is wrong. The last couple of months with Alica had been amazing, why did he suddenly feel like this?
 He didn't get much time to ponder about it, before the door swung open and slammed into the wall. Alica immediately turned around and closed the door, locking it. The next thing she did was grabbing the closest chair, and barring the door with it. 'My dear, what's wrong?' He rose to his feet and met her at the end of the hall. She immediately wrapped her arms around him, and started sobbing. He could feel that she was shaking, in obvious fear. 'Hey.. hey.. What.. what's happening? Why'd you lock the door?' He started stroking her neck in a comforting manner, peering out through the windows into the black of night. 'They.. I'm-.. I'm hiding from them, Jezzek..' She glanced up at him with tearfilled eyes. 'Remember the creepy mercenaries I told you about..?' She bit her lower lip. 'Those who kept staring and pointing at you and your sister?' He frowned slightly, somehow he had a feeling where this was going. 'Aliiiicaaaaa, darling! We know you are in there!' Someone hammered on the door firmly, with a fist. 'They're here, Jezzek! They're here! They're here!' She clawed at his back in panic, her eyes suddenly bursting with tears. 'I'll.. get my sword!' He managed to get free of her grip and moved over to their bed. Gripped the hilt of his longsword, and unsheathed it. As he turned to face the door again, something started hammering at it again, more forcefully this time. 'Alica.. g-get behind me.' He swallowed, and tried to muster some courage. Alica moved over to slide down on the bed behind him. Seconds turned into minutes, and each time the door was smashed, they both flinched.
 The door flew off It's hinges. In marched a scarred man in his thirties, cocking a crossbow. Two other men followed him inside, with cruel looking axes. The man with the crossbow chuckled. 'Are you supposed to be of some threat to us, gardener?' He tilted his head somewhat while staring at Jezzek. He could feel his sword trembling in his hands as he stared at the tip of the bolt resting in the gutter of the crossbow. 'No answer? That's what I thought. Beat the man bloody if need be, don't harm the girl. I want her... fresh.' The man with the crossbow flashed his yellow teeth in a wolfish grin, and left the house.
 Everything else after that happened quickly, the two men darted forth. Both swinging with the axes blunt side. Jezzek managed to parry one of the axes, but the other blow caught him over the side of his head and sent him onto the floor. 'Have you ever been in a real fight, you pathetic cunt, eh?' Both of the men laughed, before turning to look at Alica. 'You are coming with us, missy. Come quietly, and you won't come to harm, eh? Sounds like a good deal, doesn't it?' He couldn't move, his knuckles turned white due to his firm grip around the hilt of the sword. But he couldn't move, why couldn't he move? He bit down on his lower lip until it bled, but all he could do was to watch the two men carrying his screaming partner, and lover, out of the house. Panic seized him. 'JEEEZZZEEEEEEK!' was the last thing he could hear her scream. In that moment, he vowed to get her back. He vowed to do whatever it took, to get her back.
 The undescribeable pain of the fel energies eating away at his body, was nothing compared to the reminder of why he had learned magic in the first place. As he shut his eyes, all he could see was Alica's frightened facial expression. He froze in place, as the Anethionean Shadowbreaker's axe dug deeper and deeper into his neck. Suddenly everything he had worked for, everything he had done, was so pointless. When the sole reason to why he learned the art of the arcane, was to get his beloved Alica back. Somewhere down the road, corruption had seized him. Hate, anger. These emotions corrupt as much as the magical energies of the arcane. These emotions consume your whole being, and can turn man into monster.
 With his last remaining strength, he conjured an illusion and played out his own death before the eyes of the Anethioneans and mercenaries. He unhooked his grimoire and dropped it, before teleporting away from the scene.
Alica...

Awesome.. Really, really beautiful to read Then again you always write so delicatly and detailed. Its a lovely read^^

Heh, thanks a lot. I'm going to write in swedish in the future, just not happy with my english skills. I don't know enough fancy words to fill out all sentences.

Tsk tsk tsk.. No, no. As charming as sweedish is, I assure you, your english is good ^_^ And... English will beat sweedish any day... at least on this forum

An epic read as always. There's nothing wrong with your english. Shits on you if you start writing in swedish...sheez.

Write more (in english!)!

Guess I'll have to learn more fancy words, then.

Use google translate if necessary, works for most things (and you can always ask around for the words it doesn't work for).

Yeah. I try to use google translation, but that doesn't show you how to bend it, etc. I'll work something out.