The Warrior

“So, you have found the Warrior!” he said to his reflection in the glass. “The Kings Champion, Chief Vindicator, the Scourge of the Zone!”

He would have laughed out loud if the painful memories had not flooded back into his mind. He returned his attention to the youth.

“I cannot return. I am in exile. You must seek salvation else where”

“Your banishment is rescinded, by order of the King. He asks you to return.”

“Asks!” shouted the Warrior. “Asks!” You lie. The King has never asked for anything in his life. He has always taken. Always.”

He stared into the eyes of the mirrored image. The silence stretched for several minutes before he spoke again, this time less sternly.

“Do you know the story of my misfortune?”

“Yes.”

“Then you must know why I cannot - will not - help the King. He took from me something very precious and destroyed it. I would have killed him then, but there was no one else strong enough to lead our people. Correction. I was strong enough but had not the wisdom - nor the cunning. If the King had not banished me for the threats I uttered to him then I should have left of my own accord. I have vowed never to return.”

He continued to stare at the mirror. “ I am sorry though that you have had a wasted journey. The passage through the mountains is dangerous and you have passed through great peril whether you know it or not.”

“I know it.” replied the youth. “I set out with someone who was precious to me and have lost her on the way.” Briefly he related the events of the last three days, faltering only once when he described how he had found the body of the girl, mutilated beyond recognition but still clutching in her hand unmistakable proof of her identity.

But the Warrior was little moved.

“You have no one to blame but yourself,” he said, “By allowing yourself to become enmeshed in plots of Wizards and Kings you have endangered others, many others, who would now be living in peace instead of under the shadow of the Great Terror. I tell you again, seek salvation elsewhere, for there is none to be found here. Be gone! Leave my house!”

He glared at the youth, and now really saw him for the first time.

“I sense your hidden power, and know that I could not force you to leave, though I am not unarmed.” His hand fell on the jewelled hilt of his sword. “But I say this to you: If you stay here trying, without hope, to persuade me, you waste the little time that remains to you.”

The Warrior said no more, but returned to his massive chair by the window and sat staring over the pointed peaks below his fortress. The youth stood for a moment and then turned away and left the chamber. As he passed through the door he paused.

“Stay and die alone then, old man,” he said quietly, and walked away.

(Note - this is just a scene in my head - don't know the beginning or the end - yet!)