April 20th
I watch the waves crash upon the shore.
Every morning, it’s the first thing I do. I wake up, walk down the cliff, and sit on the beach.
The waves wash across the sands, and spill over my toes – sometimes farther, when I am not careful.
I listen to the wind, as it blows against grass and through mountain rock.
I feel the sun, as it casts its first rays of light upon the world that day. It feels ethereal at times, the warmth they bring to a cool morning.
I watch the waves crash upon the shore, and I try to find a peace in it all. Most of the time, I do.
A monk I once knew, after I was pardoned, helped me learn to meditate. They taught me to close my eyes, and imagine a sphere. Imagine the color. Imagine the textures within. Reveal the place that sphere contained, and when I did, make that place my sanctuary. I could carry it with me wherever, and hide my spirit there when the darkness overcame the rest of me.
Inside that sphere, I saw a beach. This beach that I sit upon now.
I watch the waves crash upon the shore, and I know I could live the rest of my life here if I chose. Nobody knows I’m here. No wars are fought over nothing on this beach. Nobody is looking for The Poor Huntress anymore – she was pardoned, after all.
This beach is the sanctum I sought. There is only me, in this timeless snowglobe, incapable of being hurt ever again.
Incapable of hurting others ever again.
I have been here for over a year. So much time spent on this beach, when I’m not tending the garden. I don’t end lives anymore. I create them. Growing fruits and flowers, breeding animals.
It’s a peaceful life.
So why do I feel incomplete? Will I ever feel complete?
I watch the waves crash upon the shore, and see the ships out at sea. They remind me that there is a whole world still out there.
I left that world behind. We weren’t compatible.
Yet… once, I held so much stake in it. Once, I was willing to fight an entire empire for what I thought was right.
That person – The Poor Huntress – was wrong. She took things too far. Let her pride and rage destroy everything she tried to build, and hurt everyone that made the mistake of following her. She was volatile and undisciplined, given too much power she couldn’t properly wield.
I buried her, along with every single person she killed. An entire cemetery could be built off those graves.
I watch the waves crash upon the shore, and think about the many times I wanted to kill myself since those days. Even here, in my sanctum, my darkness finds me at times. I stare at the beach from the top of the cliff, and think how easy it would be to let my body lean forward and plummet.
Crash. Gone forever. A bloody legacy remembered only by its statistics, if any part of me is remembered at all.
But I haven’t killed myself… nor have I been killed. I’m still here. The memories are still here. Even, in some way, The Poor Huntress is still here. She hasn’t forgotten what she used to believe in.
And the truth is, I still do. Because though they pardoned me, and said I have redeemed myself, I have never felt that redemption. All these years, even when I followed their orders, I have felt lost and adrift.
I have run as far away from the person I was as I could go, but despite this great distance, have never laid eyes upon a new destination.
I watch the waves crash upon the shore. I feel my fist curl against the sand.
I declared defeat back then. I endured their scrutiny, and worked for their forgiveness. I failed in my war, and sought only to survive with no other meaning beyond that.
Meanwhile, the empires still wage their meaningless wars. The innocent die in droves. The starving at home have only grown hungrier, the ill sicker.
My running away and seeking peace doesn’t change that the world is just as terrible as when I defied it, if not moreso.
Back then, I had the power to change it. We were so, so close, to shifting things forever. But I failed once, and let that failure poison me.
I was lost before I was The Poor Huntress. She gave me purpose, and gave others something to believe in. She failed them in the end… but only because I allowed it to be the end.
I’m still here. I survived all this time. But when was the last time I lived?
I watch the waves crash upon the shore, and I realize I can hide no more.