…dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
His heartbeat echoed in his ears, pulsating through his body as blood began streaming through the veins once again. The hiss of air rushing back into his lungs signaled the ability to breathe, chest quickly beginning to rise and fall in a steady rhythm. Sight and hearing and touch and smell and taste all returned simultaneously, clicking back into place after a short moment of confused information passed to the brain. He could feel his body now, aware of his position, his clothing, the immediate surroundings.
It was pleasantly warm here. Warm like curling up under the covers on a cold winter’s night. Warm like sharing the body heat of a partner while snuggling. Warm like a mother’s womb far before labor would set in.
Yet, despite his want to, he couldn’t stay.
There was work to do. A grudge he needed to settle.
He had been reborn. Previous body dispersed into smoke and ashes, crumbling to dust and scattered by the wind. New body formed from what was left of the first. Gathered in one place, clumping back together, reforming, renewing, healing. Kissed by Life. Rising from the ashes like a phoenix from the flames.
Literally, in this case.
Reluctance wrestled hard and viciously against the decision as he stepped out of the fire, unwilling to face the cold of the world around him. Here, the safety and warmth and peace was no more, the flames only providing a fraction of it to those who rested intimately close to it. How he wished to just sit back down, bask in the light and heat, snooze away and pretend the enmity of the world itself did not exist.
He stared longingly for just a moment, then checked his body for any lasting damage. The hole in both his armor and chest was gone. The cuts and lacerations all across his body had closed. Nothing to suggest he’d lived through that all. Of course not. He’d expected this, but it was better to check, just in case. As much as he’d prefer not to return, he would rather not have all injuries and wounds carry over with him. A living corpse unable to die, suffering unimaginable torture for eternity.
Compared to that, this was nothing.
Without further dilly-dallying he went on his way, navigating the decrepit walkways and passages, climbing over collapsed walls, maneuvering through demolished buildings and houses. There were many paths he could take, but some were less favorable than others. In some parts of the town the streets had cracked open to reveal a deep abyss, in other parts the rubble made it impossible to progress. Yet other parts were heavily guarded.
Though they had stopped patrolling, the city guard had grown only more fanatical and overzealous in death. All those not wearing the garb of castle employees, guardsmen, knights, or royal guard were executed on sight. Dutybound to protect the city from invaders and criminal scum, that was all they did now. Their duty was the only thought left in their mind, it was the only thing that mattered to them. Nothing else existed. It was the last shred of humanity they had left, the only thing that kept them going in death.
Poor sods had lost all sense of self, all individuality. All that remained was their purpose, and without it, they would simply exist. Apathetic. Oblivious. Living, breathing, starving, dying. Repeat. They didn’t care. They might as well not exist at all.
He couldn’t fault those that succumbed to it, just like he couldn’t blame the guards for clinging to the one scrap of their former life. Dying over and over, the suffering of life, the miserable state of the world around… it drove people mad. They lost themselves. They turned into nothing more than a husk, a hollow shell.
Those with purpose remained active. They were like the city guard. All cases of people without a sense of individuality, of self-preservation, they were all bound by duty to protect. It kept them going, evidently.
Those with a strong sense of self, with a strong will, they managed to keep their wits about them through the cycle of death. Those with both, well, those were the ones who didn’t break. Purpose to give them a goal, Willpower to keep their Self intact. To not succumb.
He didn’t have a Purpose. Not really.
But that was why he wandered. Why he journeyed through the remnants of a once great kingdom.
Through the countryside where bandits lied in ambush. Using their greed as Purpose to move about, wait patiently for the rare travelers. Not that coin was worth anything anymore. But the bandits didn’t care. They simply clung to their greed, unaware of anything but fulfilling their Purpose.
Through villages with farms and cattle. No crops grew anymore, and cattle had long since become nothing but an empty shell. Some farmers still worked the land, aimlessly plowing the earth with hoes, digging holes for potatoes. They were harmless now. Usually their families were no more. Children mostly put up little resistance, turning into husks quickly. Some possessed extraordinary Willpower, but the state of the world broke them easily. He’d seen one who hadn’t though. One who played family with his family, talking to his working parents, petting the non-responsive dog, pretending nothing had changed. He’d been glad to interact with an actual functioning person, but had gotten angry when the wandered commented on the state of his family.
Through Lowtown, mostly deserted. There were drunks wandering the muddy streets, collecting bottles.
Through Midtown, partly destroyed. The guard doing their duties, vendors and merchants running their shops and stands even though the soul behind their eyes had vanished.
Through the Crown, where the castle was. Where the King still sat upon his throne, staring into space. Servants wandered the halls. Knights stood tall. The Royal Guard stationed all over the castle. Sworn to protect the King, willing to lay down their lives to do just that.
He’d rather not go there. Too much hostiles around. Too dangerous. But this was the only way. The only path leading outside. He had to travel through the castle to reach the bridge out of the city, to the next location where he was headed.
But the bridge was guarded by a giant Moth. Hard to kill. There was no passage possible with that thing around.
If he could get past it though, he would reach his destination. Or at least a temporary stopover if he couldn’t find it there. Then he’d have to move on to the next place.
Maybe he’d find it there.
Purpose.
