[The Z]

Erudish’s eyes flew open, pain long departed from his body. Sighing he flipped himself upright – being weightless in a sheltered world had some advantages. Nonetheless, his predicament seemed inescapable. Unless he could somehow extract the keys to his new environment from the jail’s custodian (which appeared to be a hopeless endeavor), he’d have to get used to never being able to battle or fight again. That was not an option, but it was slowly becoming a reality.

There had never been a time when his destiny had seemed uncontrollable or out of hand. When he was at war, with one, well-placed stroke of his axe, he could change the outcome of everything. With the right words, he could manipulate his lesser ‘brothers’ to do his bidding. But those same lesser brothers had staged a coup and he’d lost his legion and his life. A dream could be shattered and the soul swallowed in the emotional fallout. When a dream is close to fruition and it’s shattered before your very eyes, it’s akin to being resurrected without your legs…if you’re human.

For Erudish, it simply added more embers to the raging inferno that had long consumed him. Fate, throughout his life, had dealt blow after blow and each time the warrior had gotten out of the dirt and flailed back futilely. It seemed as though everything and everyone had pushed him back simply because of how he’d been born. Inherent nobility in a race was a fallacy reserved for hypocrites – the worst kind of liar. He’d been left to claw out of his hole and every time he got to the top, the dirt broke and he’d fall back to the bottom. Despite the constant anger, the persistence of his need to destroy the injustice, he’d hit a wall. There was no way over, through or around it. Truly, his Gods had abandoned him.

He closed his eyes and let eternity float him across his brave new world.