Honor in Death
[Inspired by the music of "Ghost of Tsushima"]
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He ran through the undergrowth. Screams could be heard behind him. Then barking mingled with the calls. He threw up his arms as he broke through a group of trees to protect his face from the branches. On his right the forest was ablaze. To his left the raging water flowed down the river. The only way left was straight ahead. He couldn't stop or his pursuers or the acrid smoke of the fire would catch up with him. His armor felt heavier with every step. His running got staggering and he fell down. With the help of his sword scabbard he pulled himself to his feet and continued on his way.
The terrain became steeper, more rocky. He had to be careful not to slip. Beside him the water plunged steeply into the depths. For a brief second the thought shot through his mind of jumping down into the water. But he quickly pushed that thought aside. He wouldn't survive this jump. So there was nothing left for him but to run straight away. It was a miracle he could come down the slope without a major fall. Where the river and land were at the same level again, the river made a sharp bend to the right and the forest opened up in front of him. He could still hear shouts and barks behind him. A cold sweat stood on his forehead as he turned and looked back.
Against the flames, the trees and the figures that followed him stood out clearly. He turned his gaze forward again so he would not run into an obstacle.
A deep, unnatural growl made him freeze in place. It had sounded right in front of him, but he couldn't see anything that could have caused the sound. Yet his body was unable to go any further. Before he could fully understand the situation, an excruciating pain exploded in his thigh. He went down screaming. Before he could see it, he felt that an arrow had pierced his leg. And his pursuers were right behind him.
Was that his punishment? Didn't he deserve to be struck down by them? The pain in his leg was unbearable, but his shame of cowardice burned more in his chest. He should have died next to his friends. He had sworn it. And he had broken every one of his oaths.
The attackers had reached him. They came up to him with swords drawn. He stopped responding. Death was what he longed for. When one of them raised his blade, he closed his eyes. He felt his sword by his side, but he didn't reach for it. What was the point? There was silence, then another growl. What followed were horrific screams. He opened his eyes and saw a huge shadow sail over him. His attackers tried to flee, but their screams were soon stifled. Through his blurry eyes he watched the beast tear the men to pieces. Horrified, he noticed that the beast turned to face him when he was the last alive. The creature was like a wolf, but bigger, almost the size of a horse, with long black fur that seemed to float in water. Glowing red eyes stared at him as it got closer with each step.
"By the gods."
An ice-cold chill ran down his spine when he realized who he was facing. Nobody wanted to face this being. He was Nysekin, god of the oath and judge of oath breakers. He carried dishonorable people with him to hell, where they had to pay forever for their crimes.
He pushed himself up quickly, the pain in his thigh completely forgotten. He wanted to throw himself pleadingly before the god, but something in the gaze of his counterpart made him pause. It was in vain. There would be no mercy for him. The wolf stopped only a few inches away. There were seconds in which they just looked at each other. His heart was pounding in his chest and he could hear his blood rushing through his veins. Today was the day he was destined to die. To his surprise, the wolf broke eye contact. At first he didn't understand why the other being looked down. But then he noticed that he was looking at his sword. He raised his head again and looked at him waiting.
It wasn't difficult to understand. There was a way to escape from eternal damnation. To restore his honor. He reached for his sword and took a deep breath. In a low whisper, he uttered a prayer of thanks as he pulled the blade from its sheath. In doing so, he did not break eye contact with the wolf, who carefully followed his every move. When he finished the prayer, he put the blade on his stomach. And hit. The world around him began to blur. He wanted to scream in pain, but with all his will he pressed his lips together. The moment he couldn't take it anymore, the wolf suddenly reached forward. Finally everything went black around him.
Sunlight broke through the canopy of leaves. The smoke from the fire was still in the air, making it almost impossible to make out details in the forest. The sounds of battle had long faded when his eyes widened. Coughing and gasping, he rolled over on his side to spit out blood. His gaze fell on the river not far from him. With an effort, he went there for a drink. His throat burned, as did his whole body. He finally reached the water, but what he saw in the reflection made him pause. He recognized himself in the reflection and at the same time what he saw was completely alien to him. Two strands of white ran through his black hair. And there were three large scars on his face. As if a wild animal had attacked him.
You died with honor, now you are it protector.
The sight of the wolf came back to him. The being had marked him and he was at his mercy. Forever.