De Haguns Family/Orpheu/The Trial of the Gods

Part 1

“Orpheu…”, the forest called his name, the leaves rustling as the winds blew through him. “… what have you done so far? What have you accomplished in your life? Who are you? Lion or Wolf? Or Nothing? Man or beast?”

The knight strode in a daze through the forest in his hallucinogenic state, his eyes wide as he listened to his calling, his mouth mumbling incomprehensible answers as he tried to discern and answer the questions that plagued his mind. The bastard sword was dragged behind him, rather than wielded in his hand.

At this state, he was naked, but felt as if he was armored, for nothing else mattered. Only the resounding silent of the speaking woods and their secrets mattered. He followed the voices as he made his way without certainty.

“I am a knight”, he replied, uncertain.

“A knight that abandons his child, his lover, his goddesses, his bride, his homeland. Disgraceful, coward, weak. A knight that makes vows he knows he will betray. Who are you, Orpheu de Haguns, but a pathetic weakling that does not deserve to be a knight?”, the forest taunted him.

Orpheu stopped right in his tracks and took the bastard sword by the hilt with his two hands. Those voices that plagued his mind would not stop, so he roared. “Come and face me! I have come here for my trial! I am done with words, with letters!”, he said, almost losing his balance as he walked into a clearance and a faint sunshine found his eyes, causing him to see a bright mixture of red, blue and green once again, swirling and twisting his vision, as waves distorted his perception.

He closed his eyes, and thought of the Aethir and his trial. “Laguz, the Allfather, help me… I know I have never said a prayer to you, and I have never spoken to you before, but I humbly beseech your holy help to finish my trial. Aea, shine your light upon me and reveal what taunts me, show my true enemies. Angven, bring me courage and inflame my heart with courage to defeat my enemies and finish my trial. Orgeon, strengthen my arm and harden my body, so I can avenge my enemies and finish my trial.”

The young knight had been studying the Aethir after he had arrived in Yssrgard, and had been impressed with the patheon and the importance that the yssrgardians gave to their gods… for someone that had grown up under the shadow of a dying religion, though one as old as time itself, as was the Triumvirate that worshipped the winds, it was not difficult to be convinced of the truths they spoke, especially as he heard the tales of their victories against Shadowdale. However, only a truly mystic experience would convince the still wary knight about the truth in the Way of the Aethir.

After that little prayer, he opened his eyed and saw a rock not far away. He laughed and shook his head at what he saw. “Unbelievable! This is some twisted joke?”, he cried, his body moving around the clearance and towards the surrounding trees, as he brandished his sword. “I come for the Aethir, and is this what I see? The past that haunts me?”

“Child, to soar towards your future, you must abandon your past. Is that not the reason you came to Yssrgard? To do so, you must first face your past, and then face what you shall become. What shall you do?”

“I… I came to become a warrior, to strengthen myself and avenge the slights I have suffered! I came here, so I can finally forge my fate through iron and fire!”, he replied, and turned towards the rock in the middle of the clearance once again. He blinked in surprise, for it suddenly was not there, but after a flash of dancing lights, it reappeared.

And with it, four women, three he recognized and one that seemed oddly familiar, all sitting upon the rock. And resting against a tree nearby, his eyes closed in a contemplative demeanor, arms crossed against his armored chest, an older man with raven haired hair, and a full beard. He had a war painting with a symbol he could not understand on his forehead.

Part 2

“The edges of time are revealed to you. Past and future intertwined in one single moment lost in time. Your choices led you here, and more choices could lead you closer to Valhalla, or to be forgotten in time. For just as cattle die, kinsmen die and you yourself die. The one thing that never dies is the fame of a dead man’s deeds. What path shall you take? Who shall you become?”

The very question that Orpheu had forever asked himself. He steading his sword as he looked at the four women that stood before him, representing the past that he had left behind in Perdan, as well as his own life, as he saw it.

First was Thea, pregnant and dressed in a white dress, smiling sadly at him. His lover, his childhood friend and the commoner he took for a squire. The one he had made a vow to marry after he found out she now carried his child. She represented the goddess Elysia in his mind, the torch that warms away the cold and the hope for a new future, which she bore in her womb. As he looked at her, he smiled and his eyes teared. “Thea… I have missed you…”, his voice cracked under the weight of emotion of a separate lover. Yet Thea did not reply, only looked down at her swollen belly and caressed it gently.

For Orpheu had abandoned her and their unborn child in Perdan. The pain of doing so still hurt him and her, even though he had secured her the protection of the Queen. He had vowed to return and fetch her to Yssrgard once he had secured a place of renown, so his bastard could be legitimized without questions… and not knowing how he would be received in Yssrgard, or his commoner lover, or his bastard, he thought it safer to let them stay in the City of Lions.

Then was a young woman, around his age, clad in armor and wielding a spear, shortsword and shield. She was beautiful, fierce and looked quite similar to him. Though she was younger than the goddess she represented, he knew immediately that it was Aulysia, the goddess of war and summer. She looked defiantly at him, and was the first and only vision to address him. “You have judged me for abandoning Perdan, yet you have done the same. I had the courage you lack, and I have achieved what you could not. You played childish games and gambled everything, only to lose it all. And you were… the pride of our House! What does that say of you, Orpheu?”, she said dismissively and derisively.

As Orpheu deserted the Blackmane Paladines and left Perdan, he had thought of his mistakes in judging Furiae, for now he followed the same path. “Furiae…?”, he asked with uncertainty. He had thought of doing the same as Furiae had and abandon all for the sake of what he cared, leaving Perdan with Thea and moving to a republic across the sea where they could live happy together and grow their children. Alas, he did not, for he had lacked the courage to do so. Once he decided to take his destiny in his own hands, instead of letting himself be carried by the winds, it had been already too late, as the Duchess of Perdan had forced them to be separated due to Laststar’s wickedness.

Part 3

He glanced at the other two goddesses, who eyed him icily.

One was the Queen of Perdan, representing Zama, the goddess of diplomacy and of fall. Orpheu had broken his oath to Perdan, and he knew Alyssa would forever remember him for this. He had left the Blackmane Paladins before the Battle of Clermont, where sir Jacelyn Goldwater had died, the Marshal had died. And the guilty plagued him – would it be any different if he had not deserted, but joined the battle? He had shamed himself in his first battle, the Disaster of Woolton, as he and his soldiers left the battlefield at the earliest moment… what if deserting the army before the Battle of Clermont under the pretext of already knowing it was doomed for defeat had been just a device of his mind to justify his cowardice? “I am no coward…”, he said.

The other was the Duchess of Perdan, representing the Crone, the goddess of death and of winter. And as Orpheu left Perdan, he had made a vow to harm her in anyway he could, and he had a feeling Aila would never forget his threat. She was part of his disgrace, and he hated her like he hated no other, save for Laststar. Due to their actions, he had been separated from Thea… Or perhaps he had caused his own disgrace, and was trying to blame others for actions he had only caused to himself?

They need not say anything, for he already knew what they would say. Their eyes told him.

If his visions were true or not, if the voices he heard were the voices of gods or of his own conscience, only time would tell. For his mind was feverish as he hallucinated, past, present and future were linked as one. He lost all sense of time, place and self, and looked at the skies. “Why do you torment with my past? I carry my guilty wherever I go, and it rattles as the shackles of a prisoner!”, he cried.

“A prisoner of your past mistakes. A prisoner of your own making. Yet only you have the key to open the cage you have lived so far. What shall you do, Orpheu?”

He was naked before the truth, more than he was within the woods.

“I cannot change the past, I know it! I have been a disgrace to my House, but I have come to Yssrgard to face it!”

“No, child. The past shall remain where it belongs. You have come to Yssrgard to face your future.”

Part 4

Orpheu blinked again and suddenly the rock and the four goddesses of the religion he had forsaken disappeared from his views. He stumbled as a new wave of sensations hit him.

Then, the man he had seen resting across the woods opened his blue eyes and a smile of self-satisfaction crossed his face. He cocked his head slightly, measuring Orpheu, and Orpheu gazed at him.

Both blue eyes locked into each other, and the young knight felt intimidated by the older man.

All the man could see was a lanky naked knight dragging a bastard sword, while Orpheu could see a seasoned warrior, wearing a breastplate with boiled leather, but his muscled toned arms were uncovered. He had a shoulder plate in the shape of a dragon’s head. Bear fur covered his shoulders and back. Orpheu noticed how his forehad was covered in ritualistic red painting symbols he could not discern. The man left his resting position against the tree and started walking towards him, a war hammer at his hand. But what struck him the most was that the man looked exactly as him, but older.

“Just as last time, though it was me standing where you are”, said the man, as he steadied both hands on the war hammer’s grip. What started as a slow walk suddenly started to walk faster, almost rushing towards him.

“Back off! I am warning you!”, cried Orpheu, assuming a defensive position as the man started rushing in rage against him.

The warrior rose the hammer with all his might and descended it against the young knight, who only managed to parry it with the bastard sword in time, but fell to his knees before the impact. “Nice parry, though I knew it would happen. I did the same as you. You know you can never win against you yourself, do you? For I know you just as much as I know me, but you do not know yourself. So you will lose, as I did when it was my time”, taunted the warrior.

The warrior backed away to let the knight rise. With anger in his eyes, he glanced at the man and rushed towards him, trying to pierce his chest with the bastard sword, only to see it deflected by the war hammer with ease. The warrior scoffed. “I shall entertain you. I like seeing the boldness in your heart, even if you cannot win! Tell me, how does fighting feels when you compare it with the letters you were so eager to pen? Now that I am older, I laugh at what I did when I was your age. Yet I also have regrets for what I did, and that is why you need to be taught a humbling lesson…”

With a swift movement, the warrior attacked the young knight with all his might, focusing on the bastard sword, which flew through the clearing to rest on the ground. The knight was disarmed, and soon suffered a hard blow against his chest, which almost let him fly.

He fell to the ground, breathing heavily and placed his hand at his chest, feeling blood pouring.

The warrior rested the war hammer at his shoulders, looking expectantly at Orpheu. The knight knew he was going to die to this warrior that looked like him, and he could just let the man finish it. “How do you want your death to be? Quick? I can finish it now, if you want it. You shall not suffer anymore.”

Part 5

Struggling to breath, the knight rose once again, but not before falling on his knees. Mustering what was left of his strength, he rose clumsily and limped towards the sword again, trying to stead it with both hands as he now faced the warrior once again.

“And just as I once did, you will not give up even if you cannot win. I am satisfied, and you please the gods with your courage. But the time of reckoning has come, my old friend. Prepare to die, so I can be born”.

Orpheu grimaced as he rose his sword in a defensive stance once more, readying himself for the inevitable strike as the warrior rushed towards him with a focused rage, the one that some have when thinking of or facing all the mistakes and shames of a lifetime.

The knight did not flinch or close his eyes as the war hammer hit him and he fell to the ground. He coughed blood as he eyed the warrior that approached him, and reached out his hand to him.

The warrior kneeled besides his dying self, and held his hand. “You and I are one. I know what you are feeling, because I felt the same when I was dying in this very place. And you shall experience it again, and again, and again, until the end of times, for this is what the Aethir wish for you. It is through pain and suffering that you… I can finally let go of the past. So you must die, so I must live. This is the very paradox of our life. This is inevitable, you and I can never coexist. Every choice you… or I will have to make will bring us closer to the Aethir, or send us spiraling in madness towards the edges of our mind. Do you understand why it is not enough to let the past behind, to forsake those misguided goddess of the winds? Do you understand why you must die?”

“I understand…”, he gasped, terrified of letting the past go, yet comforted by his own words. And Orpheu closed his eyes for the last time.

Part 6

When Orpheu opened his eyes again, he felt nauseous, the effects of the hallucination long gone. Dawn was edging on the sky and he had slept for hours. Immediately, his hands went to where he had been wounded, yet he was whole. No harm had come to him. He reached out to his sword, but it was not there. Instead, what he found was a war hammer, the same the warrior he had faced wielded.