The After

One day, the Hero of Destiny defeated the Dark Lord, freeing the High Kingdom.

From sea to sea, a joyous cry went up, for the Great Prophecy had been fulfilled, and the once-enslaved King was restored to his rightful throne.

God was in his heaven and all was right with the world.

The Hero, however, found himself adrift. For twenty years he had trained his blade, driven by holy cause, to the exclusion of all else.

Now only the after remained.

The King, hoping to curry the hero’s favor, lavished him with wealth, women, and wine. Consumed by debauchery, the Hero lost all sense of reason. Worse still, he fell prey to all manner of scheme and plot, for the iniquities of man far outstretch those of even the most wretched demon.

In short, the Hero had no aptitude for politics. Time and again, he was betrayed. Be they friend, servant, or lover, none could be trusted. For years this went on. And once grown, even his own children took him for a fool.

At wits’ end, the Hero went into a rampage and slew his tormentors. Man, woman, and child, all were butchered by his blade. And as he swung through those so deserving, something welled up within.

It was an emotion he had not felt in thirty years’ time. An emotion that once suffused his very soul, flowing through every strike, long missing since the fated day.

The emotion was gratitude.

Sustaining great casualties, the soldiers of the king subdued the Hero and brought him before the throne.

Fearing heaven’s wrath, the king spared the Hero, for one should always be cautious when dealing with agents of fate and destiny. Instead, he appealed to the high priests, seeking the right course of action.

While the king and priests conversed, the Hero made a request:

“Let me swing my blade. I renounce my name, my wealth, my titles, everything I have accrued, if you but grant me this one wish.”

Seeing no other option, a choice was made.

The next day, a new executioner was appointed by the king.

In the execution square, the people watched in horror as the burlap-masked man took head after head with a ruthless efficiency.

All the more horrifying was his soft, contented grin. Ω