The flames of the castle danced in my eyes, jumping and skipping, running from building to building all the whilst frolicking over the stone walls. It reminded me of children, joyful children in a field, a field of green grass and pure white flowers. I inhaled deeply only to be met with the thick odor of wood and flesh burning. It wasn't as refreshing as the air up in the low hill prairies, right before the mountains, but I would take it over the normal stench of any town. Before me thousands of years of history was being erased, but all I could think of was a single hour not more than a month ago.

It was after the battle that marked the freeing of Duon-Kel, the last of the Black Emperors conquests in the 2 year war. We'd drank and roused until 11 at night when I finally stumbled from the pub and towards my room. Three different women had tried to throw themselves upon me, no charge as thanks, but each only gave me a pang of loneliness. I laid in the bed for an hour, thinking of what that pang reminded me of. I left before dawn, my pack across my back, they hadn't ever to bother even giving their hero a horse to call his own or even enough gold to buy one.

For a week I rode on whatever trading wagon I could find, payment coming from a showing of the kings sigil. Finally I made it to the foothills of the Zartacks, finally I breathed air that wasn't tainted with blood, sweat, filth, finally I felt at home. For two days I walked though the countryside, eating only when my pistol fell a bird, drinking only when I stumbled upon a cold mountain stream. At dawn on the third day I reached the cabin. It was barely 5 meters by 4, the smoke that curled out of the top hinted at a fire that wasn't being fed enough, but too me it was the most beautiful sight I'd ever laid eyes upon.

Slowly I let my pack fall to the ground beside the smokehouse, the thump of its impact ringing in my ears. My back had hardly straightened from relief before a cry that put even the most delicate songbird to shame rang through the hills. It was her, she was still here, and as she slammed into me I knew that she still loved me. We ate breakfast and lunch with her parents in the quaint cabin, catching up, reminiscing. But once lunch had settled we set out for a walk alone, a walk that only lasted until we found a meadow amongst a grove of pines.

As we laid together I talked of the future, only for once it didn't involve where we could camp 10,000 men or how to hold a town. When we got back I would take her dads axe and cut more wood for the fire so that it burned proper, then with the rifle I had left I would try for a deer for steaks tonight and jerky in the coming winter, once winter was over her father could plant twice the ground with me here, raise enough to sell, maybe even enough for two bands of gold and a donation of gratitude to the church. "What about the war", she asked, "what about your duties, doesn't the Black Emperor still live".

For a second I paused, she was right the Black Emperor and his slave kingdom still reigned over the East but... "My duty is done", I finally said, "we've reclaimed what was ours". I carefully rested my hand against her chin, "it would cost too many lives to do more, it would cost me too much.". I had left her twice before for the war, I was surprised each time that she took me back. I wouldn't let it take me away a third time, that would be too much pain for either of us.

For a blissful hour we had laid in that field, just the two of us yet I felt less lonely then I ever had amongst thousands. "Hoy camp", the shout startled me and my hand flew for my gun where it had fallen with my belt. My blood ran cold, I had let my guard down, I had finally let my knife edge dull, now someone was upon us. "Damn, get your clothes on hero". I half expected to see her father when I turned around, but no, it was someone far far worse than an embarrassed parent.

"We need you back on the front hero", Sir Barthlows messenger said once we had collected ourselves, "now is not the time for a sabbatical, we must push on".

"Why, we've retaken our lands, lets sue for peace. The Black Emperor has offered it before I know as I was privy to it. Now that we have all that we lost there's no sense in further bloodshed."

"Nonsense", he yelled, "we must vanquish the great evil of the land. Is that not your prophecy, not our grand army's prophecy. There's still slaves in black lands, we must not rest until they too are freed."

"Its a noble mission but we've done enough, freedom for others is not worth thousands more widows and orphans", I pulled her closer to me protectively, "Tell the lord this is no sabbatical, I've retired to marry and work the land. He and the king may continue their war but it will be without my gun and blade".

"Freedom is never too high a price", he was screaming now, almost red in the face, "too leave your post and duty for some whore, I've never seen such..."

The cocking of my revolver silenced him, its barrel already level with his head. "I've never seen a freed slave you now, workers who suffered as they do under any new ruler but never a beaten slave. And if you dare to call her anything but a lady again I will send you to hell. Now leave, and tell Barthlow and the king both they're hero is done fighting and I advise them to do the same." Wordlessly and with hands balled into white fists around their horses reigns, they turned and left.

"It shan't go well", she said, "the king won't take no easily and...". My kiss silenced her as we fell back down to the grass.

​

They murdered her and her family when I went to the village for supplies a week later. Of course they didn't dirty their own hands, that wouldn't have accomplished anything. No they hired a gang of rovers, survivors of the Black Emperors army posing as guerillas. They thought I would go back to them, they thought I would make their enemy burn with the help of those that followed the old ways. But I was the deadliest and smartest, and I didn't let anyone do my dirty work. When I killed the gangs leader he told me they had been hired, I would've thought it a lie to save his own skin if not for the kings mark, a kings mark just like the one I had.

I lead the followers of the old ways just like they thought I would, only now I told of every injustice I had silenced in my own mind. Every lie and excuse for our actions I had once made I now used to make everyone see what I did, that the prophecy's true target was the war mongering king himself. Now as they drag Sir Barthlow from the fire I smile, the king I had let burn to death but he, he would suffer for what I had lost. I kneel beside him and let the fire reflect in my eyes, "the prophecy has been fulfilled, just as you wanted".