The Chains of Others

[DirectorBright]

I remember her. I remember the little girl I met so bright and full of hope.
I remember giving her the sword tailored for her, how her face lit up.
I remember when she spread her wings.
I remember when she hugged me for the first time.
When I cast away my name, my mask, y dreams for them.
When I walked into roads too dark to come back, and they dove in after me.
And I remember when they died, and I was left without them, knowing that it wasn't enough.
That ones so good had lived so short, and yet I endured.
Gwyn is just one more stone upon the heart.
I remember them all. I miss them.
And I feel as though I have grown very scarred over these years, when as many loved ones as I bind myself to again...
The laughter fades, and the quiet sets in, and I am once again reminded of the weight.

You must remember them.

Those joys- Were worth knowing them.

It was worth believing in them.

And you will meet another.

And another.

And there will be yet another, all waiting for you in the future.

You'll meet them, will you not?

You will come to see them?

You always fear and worry.

Remembering them hurts.
I do. I always fear and worry.

... You should make them memorials.

Something written in stone.Something telling those stories, to be proud of

I do not know that I can. I want to.
I loved them terribly.
I miss them terribly.
I would have the world know what he did for me. That they were both heroes.
And Gwyn, for whatever flaws and trials she had, was still my friend.
I wish I could hear that jaunty hello-hello one more time.

Would you do it? Would you write those stories down, for this one?

We will put them to stone, to steel.

---

We're getting more of it these days.

More of what?

Rest. Time spent with our loved ones, at ease.

Ah... yes, we are.

It's what I've been searching for.

Me too... it really was the... It was the goal, I suppose.
What everyone wanted in the end.
Yet evil never rests. I think soon I will be capable of it again though.
Capable of it? Hm. No, more that- I will do what I can.

True calm, without the sense of looming doom overhead?

There have been a few moments of it.

I'm trying to get that weight lifted, too.

It gets lighter in company like this...

---

And through it all, we are happy for how we've turned out. More or less.
We're better men than we were before.

Better. Better? Hard to say.
Broken. Fragmented. Damaged.

Quite loved.

---

My son made a friend today. Or well, in the past few weeks at least. Months maybe.
She seems nice. We all worked together on a new weapon for him. He really put his all into it... I brought him home for some tea and food.
He fell right asleep there, next to her. I tucked him in well, and left some food in stasis for him, so it would still be warm when he woke up and the spell broke.

Things were bad, I tell him, when he asks about my own journey.
And he says, they'll become better.
I am here, alive, with my loving, incredible wife, to whom even Lady Mortyl's divine beauty would be plain by compare, with whom every moment is filled with so much heart-filling light the sun itself is but a candle.
We have four children, little miracles greater than those of any primordial... little impossibilities, things I never thought would be for one like me, yet each is a blessing in their own right upon my life, something more than I had ever dreamed could be.
I am well loved by many, with friends across the republic and in places beyond.
My family grows as new loved ones come into my life, and each one cares for me and tries to lift me up.

Yet- most of those who made this happen, who brought me here, who were closest to me...
They didn't live to see it.

It's so bittersweet it makes me feel sick.
It's like a beautiful light that burns the eyes from your head, but you can't look away.
Not this moment, I mean- the past. All of it put together. Grief that could kill you, happiness that could bring you back.
Moments of such profound love and grace you could barely think them real, moments of such tragedy and woe that they still bring tears decades later.
A story that never should have ended in the way it did. But then, there's a reason fairy-tales end where they do, isn't there?
Even those two, as wonderous and pure as they are, couldn't endure the cruel nature of this world forever.
Even they were only temporary.

Does that make it any less wonderous who they were, in spite of it all?

Let's try this again.

A long time ago, there was a little girl who wanted to be a knight, and a prince who wanted to protect his friends, and they were in love, and they were there for me.
A long time ago, there was a little drakanite who was my friend, to whom I could tell my secrets and woes, and she believed in me.
A long time ago, there was a little nephilim on a wayward path, who I showed kindness and care, and who made me smile.
A long time ago, there was a nurse that suffered greatly on her way, who lost her daughter, her home, who was kicked and beaten on her way, and who comforted me when I was torn.

And I loved them. Each and every one, I held in my heart, and bound myself to. Each and everyone one I healed, and helped along their way.
Perhaps some more than others, but every single one, I tried to do right by, tried to help as best I could.
Sometimes I tortured myself, sometimes I tripped and fell, sometimes I walked into the dark hoping I'd find something to save them.
Sometimes, I was the one who hurt them, because I couldn't accept that they would always come to harm, and I fought the world itself in ways that only brought them trouble.

Even then...
A while ago, there was a knight and a prince, who became a king and a queen, who pulled me out of the dark and into the right again, to live a real life.
A while ago, I learned that little drakanite was proud of me, believed in me even when I pulled her into an early grave, and didn't regret choosing me.
A while ago, that little nephilim grew, and ever thanked me for what I had done, and was my friend til the day she died.
A while ago, the nurse and I were both of shattered hearts, and we gave those broken shards to one another, to piece together and hold forever.

It hurts to remember the ones who are gone.

Not so long ago, the king and queen fell, and I was broken again... and though I'm still fractured to dust, I have to remember. I will tell others of who they were, that all would know of their lives.
Not so long ago, I forgave myself for her death, and move to show she was right to put faith in me.
Not so long ago, the wayward flame fell, and I grieved for her loss, and carved her likeness to stone.
Not so long ago, She blessed me as her Champion, and we have four wonderful children, and I am held to this day, and she fills my soul with peace.

It hurts. Every broken piece cuts deep. One remains, and without her, I would perish. I would not wish to endure. I would follow her as the dawn chases the night, past the blackened gates of death and beyond, as I promised, with everything that I am, was, and will be.

It is unfair the others are gone. It is wrong. Each died cruelly, violent ends they never deserved, no matter what any others may say. Each died to the hands of a bastard, a monster, to those who if there is any justice in creation would burn in hel for eternity. The world remains wrong, the world remains cruel.

Yet each of these, of the dead and living, would see me live on. They would see me here, tucking my children and grandchildren in to sleep, teaching them of what I've learned, lifting them up and being pulled along with them out of darker hazes and cruel reverie. They would see me pouring tea and handing fresh cookies to them, to sit and smile and laugh at their innocence and sincere goodwill. They would see me hold and be held by Her, and that we are happy, and that we find genuine rest and peace, solace in one another.

They would see me do for these as I have done for them.
And I think they would be proud of what I have become, because they cared for me.

The dark will come again, I know. Not the cool shade I embrace, but the caustic and bitter mourning and yearning. The sorrow, the pain, the anguish.
All of that light does not remove an ounce of the pain, the bitterness... but it shoves me forwards.
It makes it possible to move, it makes it easier to carry on, even if it hurts.
There are still people who need me. There will always be people who need me.

Just as I did for them, I will do for these.
I will help them. I will heal them. I will create for them, and I will teach and guide them.
I will watch them grow, strive, struggle.
I will love them and be happy...
... And I will lose them, and I will grieve.
I will be made whole by their presence as much as I will be torn apart by their absence.

Until neither I, nor my Radiant Light, can bear it a moment longer.
Then we will go, to our final home, and rest, and see all the ones we aided waiting there.

Until then?

I will carry on the memory of each and every one, and I will honor the life they gave me.

---

So here's to you.
All of you.
I love you.
I will make it count. 

I promise.