Raistlin's World

“Do you cling to the past … or can you see through the pain?” he did not remember where the question came from but now, as the assassin sat alone in the night with the fire being his only friend, it came back to haunt him. He prodded the fire back into flame, the bright eruption casting a strange dance of shadows all around him. His lips curled into a light smile, watching this strange game that light and shadow played near his bed roll and wondered about their nature … unwilling to give in to the question.

Memories, dreams, wishes and hopes, all descended mercilessly on his soul, devouring mind and soul to their very core, leaving a scorched man behind them. Something had to stop the onslaught, he pondered, something had to. But then, this thought rose. “Can you see through the pain?” he sighed to himself. Before him, the fire continued to consume the wood, emanating warmth. Inside him, memories we consuming  all that he held dear … emanating pain.

This cannot go on, he decided. All these things must be cast aside, I have to see through them. He started to pick at the dirt underneath his boots, as if the solution was buried there, as if it were a treasure. “To me, it is a treasure” he wrinkled his nose at the senseless action he was taking. “Why is it that in moments of hardship I seek sanctuary in the least sensible and least helpful course of action? Is self-destruction so deep in my nature that I abandon myself to it, giving in at the moment of defeat?”

But he was stronger than that. “I am stronger than that” he stood resolute.

“Then why do you cling to that which harms you so obviously?” a voice in his head demanded.

“I forgot you were here” he murmured, realizing his inquirer was none other that his trusty long blade. Aryadne was a blade, but nonetheless a sentient one. Ever since a confounded mage bestowed sentience upon her, they had been one mind, in a sense. She could touch his every thought, see his every dream and understand every idea.

“No you didn’t … you were hoping I could give you an answer, a solution”. He balanced the retort in his head and found it true … for that he decided to answer with silence.

“I have none to give” Aryadne continue “save for this: it is up to you to let go”.

Nightwind poked at the fire again.