"I know." Aleorn said, surprising her. "Remember well, Keeper of the Fire, our hate for the thrice damned cycle. Remember how desolate I was those decades of uselessness, of purposeless wading through the planes, slaying Lords and binding the Flame only to be reborn, and do it over again. I shan't return to those dark days. I will never be lost, now that I have at last discovered myself, discovered the purpose that I languished without for so long."
Ignorant bastard! The Keeper surprised herself with the anger in her voice. You will slay us all! Why?! Ashen One, you have abandoned everything you once stood for.
"Remember how I was then? How lost, desperate, morose I was when I bent knee to the Flame?"
***
Aleorn knelt before the Keeper, his palm raised to touch hers, a soft light flaring between. Through her, he took the souls of his adversaries and made them forevermore part of his own battered body.
"Thou hath done well, Ashen One." The Keeper meant only to hearten the grim warrior, yet she saw at once a horrible pain pass through him.
"Is there a point in it all?" Aleorn asked, his voice hollow, weary, bleak as his barren heart. "I slay the Lords, fight with all my power to right the listing land, to bind again the Flame, only to be reborn and do it over again."
"Such is thy purpose, Ashen One. Thou art the Hunter, hand of the Flame." She seemed confused that he would even question his purpose, much less be dissatisfied with it.
"I am weary of it all. The uselessness, the hopelessness. There are a thousand thousand planes and far less Ashen; the Lords have in all planes mirrored those of this one, yet I cannot hunt them all. I have fought so long, Keeper-" his voice broke, torn by the ragged claws of emptiness, of despair. "I cannot do this any longer. There is nothing left. Day by day, shade by shade life loses its luster."
"Ashen One." She knelt, meeting his eyes with her own empty sockets. "How can you tire of the only thing for which you were made? I tend the flame, for it is my purpose, you hunt the Lords, for it is yours."
She was surprised by the glimmer of tears in his eyes, bitter beads of glass that burned along his angular jawline and fell like solemn rain upon the stones.
"Because I have seen the truth, Keeper of the Flame. Because there is nothing in this but endless servitude. We fear the Dark, yet its advent is inexorable. I slay the Lords, yet they are reborn upon the many planes, confident, arrogant, certain of their endless life whether I consume them, or let their rule persist."
"Ashen One, this is thy purpose, we hath stalled the cycle of Flame and Dark, and only thy trials can maintain this stasis."
"Then let the cycle end." Aleorn stood, turning his back on her. "I have lost my taste for it."
***
You were morose then, this I cannot deny; yet you cannot let the Dark return, Ashen One, it is your purpose.
"You should know by now that I care not for it. I will break the cycle once and forevermore." Aleorn realized that Or'do had paused, peering into a birdcage of dark iron suspended by a thin chain. At its side a lever shone, defining this as an elevator, if a most unorthodox one.
"That we shall." Or'do grinned, amused by the expression of surprise on his comrade's face. "I can hear, the Keeper, Aleorn, and you speak whether or not you intend it; even the deaf would be hard pressed not to eavesdrop."
Then you know the line you have crossed. You are the vessel of the Dark's return, the promise of their triumph. You cannot be allowed to live.
"On the contrary. As I descend into the Dark, Aleorn is lifted ever higher into the Flame's light;as Lord of Cinder and Lord of Shadow shall we rule a realm tempered by its conflict, by its rebirth. At his side shall I rebuild this place, and forevermore end the cycle of Flame and Dark. If it wishes to return through me, so be it; that is the price of freedom, Keeper of the Flame. And freedom is something that once grasped, can never be relinquished."
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