From the mind of Al'xios:
The ground is hard, cold. Frosted scrub cracks beneath my boots, breaking the still silence of the night. I stand at the mid-point, between the living and the dead, and I know which way I must go.
I leave behind my companions, the frustrations of the evening and weariness from the fighting fading from my soul, only what lies before my eyes remaining.
And what do I see?
An arm, twisted and broken, white bone sundering pale flesh, red meat erupting from the tear.
A face, the nose eaten away by carrion predators, the mouth a gash, cavernous, the black tongue shrunken as though seeking a fearful escape from the harsh landscape that looms angrily over the carnage.
Legs splayed out. Furrows in the dirt from the heels digging down. The torso lost beneath the ruptured belly of a supine horse, its saddle girth stained angry red. A forearm bent against the ribs, crooked fingers rending flesh, nails biting with futile desperation. Life, refusing to yield, destined to fail.
There are so many more. Each one I carry, stiff limbs digging into my back as I bear their sad, wasted weight. To the stack of demolished carts and wagons, pulled together and piled high - my first brutal task now complete - a barren table awaiting its spread. My knees ache as I lift each bankrupt existence to its summit.
How long do I work? How many vacant eyes gaze up at me? And I like to think they are saying thank you. Thank you for caring for us. Thank you for recognizing our humanity. Thank you for having gathered our information - the clipped coin my father gave me for good luck, the painted wooden image of the Golden Pyramid, my pocket copy of the Laws & Ordinances (well-thumbed), the ring I intended to give my sweetheart, the letter I was writing to my brother - to return to our families. And I tell them they are welcome.
Clovis gives me strength. Clovis helps me close their eyes and kiss their throats. And in Clovis' name I light the pyre.
And as I return to camp, muscles aching, I know that the pursuit of good is not easy, but it is necessary and righteous.
