[Sytze]

Derran. The only true reason why I took this ridiculous job on me. Derran was the fourth friend that made our little quartet. A quartet which doesn’t exist anymore, thanks to Galdron Venray. I cared little about the man’s other exploitations, the pacts and deals he made. Even though they disgusted me greatly, they had no relation to me whatsoever. Venray had nothing to do with me.

Until he killed Derran, that is. Each of us four had our little problems, our little vendettas, but nothing truly serious, or so we thought. We didn’t interfere in each other’s lives, we were simply friends, working together only occasionally when circumstances demanded. Apparently Derran had gotten himself involved with powers beyond his reach, he was nose deep in trouble. He had made enemies of Slavers, enemies greater than his skills, opposed people with allies whose numbers surpassed ours ten-, even hundredfold. But he didn’t tell us, that was our way. One of the unwritten laws upon which our friendships and relations were build.

He should have.

Iaron had found Derran heavily tortured and mutilated in one of the back allays of the Slums. The candle of his life was burning low, flickering, waiting to be extinguished by the slightest whisper of a sound. His tongue was cut out, his ears ripped off, only his eyes were still in place. He was allowed to keep his sight for the short time he had left, so he would be able to see the wounds on his body, experiences his life in its fleeting moments. It was hell on earth. Derran was half death, half crazy when Iaron had found him. It was the most painful sight he had ever seen, who anyone can ever see. I can only imagine the dark moments he shared with Derran in his last moments. A friend, beaten up in mind and body, totally broken.

Iaron had taken Derran to our small house here in the docks and we had given him a proper burial. Since then, the days have been like a tapestry, woven full with battle and death. We searched for information, used every informant at our disposal to find those responsible. We started at the bottom and slowly made our way up. Once found, all would venture down Galdron Venray’s path. None survived. With Venray gone we- I, took out one of the highest ranking scum in Atkathla. A bad move? Perhaps.

We had our revenge, but also lost another friend during the process. Tyrvin did not support us, thought that the past was the past, that our principles were there for a reason, and that we would only make enemies. We were not supposed to wreck our lives.

We didn’t care about how he felt. Vengeance was burning in our hearts.

And now? Venray was one of the leading men responsible for Derran’s death. He commanded the slavers. With him and many others gone our vengeance has been almost satisfied. But we lost and gained dire consequences. I lost a friend, gained more enemies than I can likely count, and disgraced my heart and soul. Every man I’ve killed deserved it, I do not only feel that way, I know it. Yet it is no consolation whatsoever. Evil men have their good sides too, I saw that all too well today. A despicable man, with a caring family.

Did I honor Derran’s spirit with my assassinations? Did I avenge his death? I am unsure. The streets are cleaner, but it is only a matter of time before others take the killed their places.

Did I save and avenge Derran’s soul? I pray I did, but I fear I condemned mine in the process.

“Derran,”

“I would kill Venray’s entire family in retribution if I could.” Iaron says, pulling me away from my thoughts.

I chuckle lightheartedly. “You wouldn’t even come close without endangering yourself, my friend. When we need information you are a master, but fights are not your playground.”

“I am serious. If I encounter a member of his family on the streets, I will make sure he or she joins Galdron in death.” His voice is ice-cold, his expression bloodthirsty. To my own amazement he isn’t joking, he has never been more earnest in his words.

I abruptly turn my face to him, eyes burning with disgust. These words, these threats, coming from my own friend. “I told you before, they are innocent, have nothing to do with Galdron’s exploits.” I say angrily.

Iaron turns to me, his pose threatening. “Neither had Derran!” he screams. “He was there at the wrong moment, at the wrong time. He didn’t deserve this!”

I shake my head and swallow the irritation burning inside me. “Don’t be such a naïve hypocrite!” I say. “Derran didn’t deserve this, no, but his disputes with the Slavers were far from accidents.”

“I. don’t. care.” he hisses. His face is only a few inches from mine, his stare cold, dangerous. “An eye for an eye, a friend for family.”

I am not backing off, I will not allow him to even cherish these thoughts. He is taking this too far.

“You should care.” I retort sharply. “Unless you will find me in your path.”

He’s taken aback by my words “Are… are you threatening me?” he asks, forehead frowned. “Are you threatening your own friend?”

“That is up to you,” I growl. “Friends can cross lines as well. Do not think I will let you go on a rampage because of Derran and because of the nature of our relation. You may be a friend, but that doesn’t mean I accept all your actions uncaring.”

I want to say and do so much more, smash these foolish thoughts from his head. But I can’t. I bite my frustration away and turn my back on him, this conversation is over. I can’t believe Iaron just spoke these words so easily, so carelessly. Derran’s death made him cold, insensitive. It burned a hole in him.

Seeing my back instead of my furious glare seems to give him some courage.

“Bah! You are a disgrace to Derran’s soul,” he shouts, spitting on me. “Unworthy of the label ‘friend’. Get out of my sight! Get away!”

Snap

For the second time today I feel as if an arrow pierced my heart.

“You are unworthy of knowing him!” he continues screaming. “I abhor you and so does Derran. You are nothing. No wonder no one wants you, cares about you. I abhor you! A stain on Derran’s memory you are, filthy do-”

The words don’t leave his mouth as I press my dagger firmly against his throat. He looks surprised, anxious even. The speed of my movements caught him completely off guard.

“Don’t you ever, EVER, speak of me like that again!” I roar. “Don’t you accuse me of being a disgrace to Derran! Who avenged him, huh!? Who put his own life on the line to kill those of the ones responsible? Who? WHO!”

Control is slowly slipping from my grasp, I feel my emotions conquering my grip. I don’t care, I just don’t care!

“I killed, shed blood, crumbled innocent lives, even abandoned my own soul! And you dare accuse me of not caring!?”

Iaron tries to speak, tries to breath, but he can’t. The dagger is pressed against his throat so firmly that small drips of blood are becoming visible. His eyes are protruding, panic overcomes him. He’s starting to tremble.

I shake my head in total frustration, squeeze my eyelids in pain. I have no one, I am no one. With Tyrvin gone I lost my best friend, with Derran gone I am losing Iaron a well. With the killing I lose myself. I have nothing, am nothing. I’m falling, endlessly, and I’m pulling everyone I come in contact with along with me.

“How can you… ”

I grind my teeth and push myself away from Iaron. He falls on his knees, grasping for air, while his hands grab his soar throat. How I want to assault him, verbally and physically. But nothing happens, there is only emptiness. I shake my head and throw my hands up in defeat and resignation. I’m at a loss.

I leave the room, shoulders slumped, spirit crushed. Hope fleeting.

Hope

“Hope… ” I hear Iaron gasp softly, his arm reaching for me.

“Hope.”