Tears

Indeed, the glass dagger was beautiful. Its glass edges glistened softly in the retreating sunrays, absorbing and reflecting the warmth of the sun. Emanating a soft bluish glow, the dagger’s deadly edge and tip were enhanced by the designs and symbols that marked it as a weapon of exorbitant value and rarity.

The words were crafted in an ancient language, used even before the world was created. While many referred to it as the language of the dragons, the other regarded it as the language of the ancient gods. The language comprised of symbols, rather than words, and the symbols that were edged in the dagger read “For the Thirst of the Maiden”. Small, red rubies lined the flat edge of the blade, complimenting the beauty of the weapon, even though it seemed more of an ornament rather than an instrument of murder.

Sam’s fingers stroked the blade slowly, its texture invoking many memories in him; memories that he had been trying to overcome for years, but had found no strength to. He fought back the tears that were welling up at the corners of his eyes, but just as an image of the dagger’s owner surfaced in his mind, the tears broke free, trickling down the sides of his face. He remembered the girl who had showered him with care, love and happiness during his darkest times. The girl whom he had spent many years with, enduring the harsh weathers together. The girl whom had stood beside him, fighting back demons and monsters, protecting each other every step of the way.

The girl he had promised to spend the rest of his life with.

Sam’s gaze wandered up towards the sky, in time to see the last rays of the sun diminish beyond the great mountains. Those painful memories came flooding back like a tidal wave, and he no longer bothered to suppress them any longer.

To him, Kyla was his life, the very reason for him to breathe and walk the paths of self-justice. She had been a soul mate, an ally, a friend, a lover.

He had met Kyla at a celebration banquet, and was mesmerized by her cheerful nature and kind heart. Despite being the daughter of a powerful merchant in the lands of Vater, she treated everyone in the same, gentle manner, believing that ranks and status should not change the way people treat one another.

However, fate wasn’t as nice to her as she had been to others. A few days after Sam left Vater and was on his journey once again, a horde of demons had rushed through the town; pillaging and burning every house and shop they could lay their hands on. Kyla managed to escape in time, but she wasn’t quick enough to save her family when the roof collapsed in front of her, killing them that very instant.

Sam could hardly contain his rage, anguish when he rushed back upon hearing the dreaded news, and saw that Kyla’s once sweet smile was replaced with tears, and a sorrow that he knew would scar her heart for eternity.

He took her along with him, leading her away from the place that held nothing but tragic and tearful nightmares. From that instant he saw her crying, his path became all too clear for him; he would charge upon the demons with a fury so fearful that they would never, ever dare to lay a finger on any town or village, for as long as he lived.

For the following years ahead, they went through everything; from trekking through the cruel winters in the Perilo Peaks, to killing demons and monsters that amounted to hundreds, they stood together, helping each other at every turn. Their relationship grew stronger with each passing day, and they both soon realized that their feelings for each other had far transcended the levels of mere friendship. They shared a connection between each other, a magical feeling that both felt when the other was troubled or disturbed.

Kyla brought him warmth, kindness, but most importantly, happiness. Since the moment he was able to think as a child, he had been an avenger, an agent of self-justified murder. It was not a path he had chosen, and till the day he had met her, he had lived his days with a grim face most of the time. His only relief and consolation being the fact that he was killing for a justice that he had felt was right, Kyla taught him something special. She taught him that morals were what guided people, and as long as decisions were made in accordance to the heart and morals, the conscience should carry no burden.

Eventually, after three years, with the help of Sam’s allies and friends, the demon warlord, Ty’lis was defeated and slain, and the world was granted a brief period of peace. Sam and Kyla returned to the central lands, and held their marriage ritual in the human city of Astern. Surrounded by laughter, songs and dance, Sam could hardly imagine the horror when he awoke the next morning to find his love missing. The reality pierced his heart as he realized that she had been taken by demons, determined to break both his spirit and fortitude.

Since then, Sam had been searching for seven years, with nothing to remind him of her except for that glass dagger, one of the two that she was so used to wielding during battles. Sam traveled the lands, in desperate search of his beloved. During those years, Sam reveled in his own misery, usually crying for nights on end, ending only when the tears had turned to blood. Even then, the pain seemed like a temporary relief from the harshness of reality, allowing him to sink into uncontrollable periods of sleep.

However, all his suffering and self-torment shall come to an end.

Clutching the dagger tightly in his right hand, Sam stood up slowly, for the first time in nights, and screamed into the emptiness before him. The air escaped from his lungs with such force that the scream could be heard deep high up in the caverns. The scream was a sign, a sign of his change in attitude; a change in goals. When at last the echoes of the scream had been carried away by the gentle winds, Sam’s scrambled thoughts finally converged into a single notion.

The demons had meant to break him, but now, they had broken something else – the cord that linked him to mercy and compassion. He would find them, and hunt them down, one at a time. The demons had showed him no mercy, and now it was his turn to return the favor. He would cut them down, cold and heartless, and he would let no one survive… …

“They will pay…for everything,” Sam told himself, as he held up the glass dagger, feeling its power coursing through his hand.

When the avenger had at last picked his path, he sprinted off , into the comforting embrace of the shadows.