Enderal:The Life of Torgan Whispertongue, Volume 4

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< Enderal < Literature
FormID
Cost
Weight
000D96F7
25
1.00
Series
Previous
Next
-
Locations
  • Ark, Crypt
  • Deepdigger's Gouge
  • Hideout
  • Residential Barrack, Ash Head
  • Sun Temple, Emporium
  • Vyn - Enderal (0, 0) @ Z: 11978.135742
  • Vyn - Enderal (-16, 25) @ Z: 28035.148437
  • Vyn - Enderal (-19, 20) @ Z: 17635.367188
  • Zorkban's Cellar
Chapter 4
Catastrophe

The man's lifeless body laid next to my feet. The faint light of the moon gleamed silvery and eerily in the deep red puddle underneath him. An odd feeling of numbness hit me the moment in which the dark wafts of mist in my head dispersed.

I had killed him. I was a murderer.

The man had merely asked me whether I was alright, whether I needed help. A nice fellow who only has…had good in mind. In my intoxication it wasn't his face I saw in front of me, but rather the face of the priest who had raped my mother many years ago, the mask of Jagar Sevenstroke. The visage of the man who truly deserved to die.

As I saw the innocent, deceased man at my feet, the entirety of my previous life seized me. It caught up with me, like a shadow which becomes one with its body. I had the feeling that I wasn't part of a worldly providence anymore, but rather of a godly one: the creative means of a greater being.

I took the last option I had: I took to my heels and fled Ark. I left the city at dawn and forever turned my back on it and all which had happened therein. The withdrawal of the drogae left me sleepless for whole nights in the wilderness. It was similar to an odyssey of getting back up out from the deep abyss in which I had fallen. At its end, I was standing in front of a monastery's gates. Secluded, high on a rock and surrounded by the icy squalls of the Frostcliff Mountains, it stood before me, the last stage of my journey. Its gates received me like the saving arms of Malphas himself. I confessed that I had sinned and disregarded my Path. The benevolent head of the monastery redeemed me from my heartache and told me that Malphas wouldn't be angry as long as I heeded my sole, true Path from now on. Then I took a holy vow. I was received as a friar in the monastery. My long-lost, virtuous self was freed back onto the Path. My Pathless, dark side I have recorded in this book's lines. By writing this down, it shall be banned from the face of this world and shall never haunt me again.

Let me address you with some final words, before you lay aside this book: Each human needs their firm place in this world, be it merely as a miner in the depths, or as a Sublime's shoeshiner. My belief that the Path and religion around Malphas was misled was flawed, as I only knew the before and not the after. If you do not know such, it is always easy to speculate excessively about how to make the world a better place. The sole, true Path for us humans amounts to what we believe in with a firm dedication. Malphas helps us to illuminate the dark ways of life. His Paths are no restrictive prison. They are our home, our anchor in a stormy sea. I know Pathlessness, and that's why I can reveal this one truth to you and to all people searching for advice in our monastery, no matter what their circumstances are — “Those who are not honoring Malphas' Path will never catch sight of the world's light.”