Ledger of Lies

The wind whipped and covered any line of sight in snow. This land belonged to nature. Those brave, or stupid enough to go in there would only be met with death. But this was a job that needed to be done. Something to help him sleep at night. A sense of closure, selfish or not, it was needed. Twice this had happened, twice he had loved and lost. If only he was faster, if only he knew better, it would have been avoided. His mind became polluted with thoughts of rage and self-hatred. He was the villain in his eyes, the one who let them go away. If only he had asked her to stay home. Maybe this time, it would’ve truly worked. Maybe. A crunch of fresh snow beneath each foot was the only sound for miles. The trees were stiff, but beautiful with their now white pines. This place would make a remarkable painting, but some might say that was the only thing it was good for. The sun, or what could be seen of it set, and the light died down to nothing but the glow of a full moon and sea of needle tip stars. The only motion in the blank space of air was the fierce blizzard roaring down onto the blanketed lands. There he laid, leaning back with an arrow knocked onto his bow. Covered in snow, frozen fronds, with small icicles forming on his leafen eyelashes. He sat for hours, waiting. Then it came. The beast that stole his joy and peace. A creature made from desperation and a ravaging hunger. It was young, still growing to be a much more dangerous, and terrifying Aberrant .It seemed to almost display the resemblance of half a man. It wasn’t completely turned, but this was surely the one. He whistled out to it, and without any hesitation, it charged. He knew fighting it fairly would be a death sentence. But he came prepared. With a single, lengthy exhale, the arrow launched at its target, and hit exactly what he was aiming for. A trigger for the trap he laid out below. As soon as the beast moved forward, the pitfall opened, and down it went. Dazed, but still functioning, it found itself on a pile of coals. It began to desperately try and climb its way out, before the Sylvari lit a match and tossed it down. As the flames ignited into a tower tall enough to emerge from the pit, the beast began screaming. The combinations of a creature that was once a Norn, and a beast of children’s horror stories howled in misery. With no emotion, and no celebration, Lythrisal stood from his nest. It was a long, cold walk home.

     Kabou didn’t get a chance to spend time with his kids for quite a long time. His recent injury made it nearly impossible for him to be away from the local hospital of Soundrest. The recovery included visits from his family, but it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as spending the entirety of a day with his wife and children. He missed them, surely more than they would ever know.       However, he was finally home. Away from the hospital and within the four walls of the place he was most comfortable. Arvanna took Subira and wandered off to the market for some groceries. There was a surprising lack of ingredients in the house, probably due to Arvanna’s lack of cooking skills, with Kai being away.      Kai was still getting used to his prosthetic, but the road was rather bumpy. He found himself tapping his foot on the floor, and his fingers on the table, while Mason sat in the seat next to him, playing with a little puzzle toy Kai got him the other night.       “Baba?” Mason asked quietly.      “Yeah, bud?” Kai responded, glancing over to his son.       “Can we play outside?” The little boy asked with a big smile. He knew already that his father struggled so hard to say no to practically anything. Kai returned a smile, then stood right up.      “Let’s go.” Kai said, picking his son up out of his seat. He held his hand, then wandered outside. Earlier, Kai mentioned skimmer riding to Arvanna, and she was sure to decline. But she never said anything about visiting the skimmers down by the overflowing waterways. So that’s exactly where they went.       Once they arrived, the skimmers were all relaxing in the light rain, maneuvering around the water like floating magic carpets. Kai gave Mason his hood, which was clearly way to big for the little boy, but Mason seemed overjoyed to be wearing it.”Baba look!” Mason shouted, pointing his finger towards a skimmer that was small enough to be a growing pup.       “He’s just as big as you are, buddy!” Kai said with a growing smile. There was a skimmer with a saddle just at the shore. It was a local rider’s, but the rider was nowhere in sight. “Come here, Mason. Wanna sit on one?” Mason eagerly ran over to his father  in boots that were just a little too big, and a hood that even went over his eyes.      Once they got there, Kai lifted the little boy onto the skimmer. Arvanna shouldn’t be mad about that. Unfortunately for Kai, that skimmer was in the midst of a nap, until something suddenly crawled onto it. As soon as it felt the touch of something on its back, it took off. Mason flew away with the skimmer, as it began swimming around the water in a panic. Kai immediately freaked out, and started running into the shore’s already deep waters. “Mason! Hold on!” Kai shouted desperately to the little boy, who was too far away to hear.       Thankfully, the skimmer’s actual rider wasn’t far, and happened to hear the shouting. He ran over, with what appeared to be a bucket of some kind of fish. As soon as it smelled the bucket, it relaxed, and swam right to shore. Kai was absolutely filled with fear. Would Mason be okay? The question ran through his mind dozens of times.      The rider seemed annoyed, but didn’t say anything. As soon as the skimmer was back to shore, Kai ran back from the water, and went straight for Mason, who was still surprisingly on it.      As soon as Kai got there, Mason had the biggest smile he’d ever seen. “Baba! That was fun! Again!” He asked in the happiest voice a little boy his age could manage. At that moment, Kai relaxed, glad to see his son was completely out of harm’s way. He lifted him off the skimmer, then began carrying him away.      “I’m glad you had fun buddy. You made me super worried there!” Kai said to the little boy he was carrying.      “I’m sorry Baba.” Mason said frowning.      “It’s okay, bud. Just... don’t tell your mother.”

     Any action you take has a reaction. Each step in life leads simply to another. We are in control. We determine what happens next. You ask, and you receive.      No man, no individual should ever let the ideologies of others corrupt their own. Our world has a funny way of convincing us we need to fit in. Take those beliefs and show them your teeth.      We are the light in our own minds. Keep that flame burning bright. Art by Remi

When any certain person mentions blood, sweat, and tears, most people assume hard work followed. It’s a common phrase for those who spend their days struggling with a job, or perhaps working diligently to achieve a goal. Perhaps a home renovation, a starting business, or even some kind of career. So many times people claim it costs them blood, sweat, and tears. But does it really? The simple answer is no. Perhaps a few running beads of sweat, and maybe a small cut or two, but it’s never really demanded the payment of those three things held so closely to mankind. What really does cost those three things is combat. Any form of it. Where one life is held against another. One will make it out alive. War is hell, even on small localized scales. Army against army, or band against band. One group always wins, and another always loses. War requires sacrifice, of body, mind and soul.  War is where men who are sworn to be the bravest cry and beg for their mother’s safe clutch. They scream and beg for mercy, and are so rarely given that treatment. War costs blood, limbs, lives. Leaving an aftermath of crows picking at what remains of those who weren’t so lucky. Watching friends and brothers die by arrow storm, or spears to the heart is enough blood for one life and then some. War demands labor of the body. Rushes of adrenaline, fear, worry, anxiety, hate. All giving you cold sweats, shaking hands and blurred vision. It demands sweat. War isn’t pretty. It isn’t romantic. It isn’t worth telling the children. It’s torturous on those who fight through it. The life of a warrior isn’t noble. It isn’t filled with riches. It doesn’t give you the key to the golden thrones of capitol cities. It gives you nightmares, and memories no man should suffer through. War was the life Olivier lived, and no matter how many times he tried to escape, its cold, bloodied steel grasp would pull him right back in by the core of his throat.

I got them off you, but I was too late, wasn’t I?

Six loaded in the chamber. Not of a single sidearm, but of four. Now what in the world would a man need four filled six-shooters for? But that wasn’t all. A jacket full of bullets, a boot with a knife, and a mind with a plan. Determined to accomplish what he wanted to do. Suladae was that man. “You know, I never thought this day would come, Sully. All of us men, at the round table. Talking about joining together to create one giant empire. Beasts of every side of the trade coming together to create a monster.” The man laughed, lit a cigarette with a flip lighter, and nodded to Suladae. “I’m lucky to have you as a right hand for this meeting. Those bastards try anything, I’ve got the damn best gun watching my back, don’t I?” “Course ya’ do, Boss.” Suladae commented. Most of his gear was hidden, aside from his custom .357 repeater, and a magnum strapped to his hip. He pointed to the man’s cigarette and offered an up-nod. “Got another you don’t mind sharin’?” “Since when do you smoke. Ain’t it bad for your gills or whatever?” The man alongside of Suladae was none other than the new opium kingpin. One to take over Chapel’s legacy. A mean bastard too, big enough to wrestle a Charr, but human enough to see the Queen as a godlike being. He was well dressed, suit and tie. Business was business and it should be handled properly. Or at least that was the man’s motto. By appearance alone, this man screamed bad news. But this meeting was the most important piece. The main focus of Suladae’s predatory eyes. It so happened to be hosting several of Lion’s Arch’s most well known drug lords, traffickers, and corrupt nobles. The number wasn’t overly high though. Eight would sit at this round table, eight along with a few bodyguards, one of which was the dark skinned, webbed fingered gunslinger. Upon arriving at the hushed about location, one could easily take note of the guards. What seemed like dozens, baker’s dozens at that. The number surely grew by the moment, but realistically speaking, that worry was simply the mock adrenaline forming in Sula’s veins. Fear was the right word, or maybe anxiety. This could go horribly, horribly... well. These men had the world by the throat. Chewing at them with blood-sucking fangs that only craved selfish gains. The discussion was getting nowhere. Plenty of arguing, and little to no talking about joining sides. Talks of opium, heroin, morphine, real nasty things. Nothing good for the community, nothing to gain from all of this. Only pain of poor victims, and struggling of those hurt by the clawed grasp of these living devils. It all happened in a flash. A muzzle flash. Specifically at the man’s head the gunslinger arrived with. The man he swore to protect and defend from these heartless monsters. A spray of blood, hit the table like a split glass of wine. The crew of demons looked to him like he had just struck down a child without hesitation. Sula gave them a cold, dead stare. And suddenly, they all knew they were next. A fan of a revolver, five shots directly into the chests of five guilty bastards. But that wasn’t all. Simply discarding the revolver, Sula pulled out a second from inside his jacket, fanned the hammer, and sent all the rest at the table to whatever hell they belonged to. It had to have taken at least a minute, right? Wrong. From the first shot, to the very last, only seven seconds had passed. No doubt the others had heard of the commotion inside. Once Sula snapped out of his adrenaline rush, he noticed two things. Voices and footsteps were heard rushing to the room, and he had been shot. Right in the gut. That’s when the pain kicked in, awful, sharp, stinging pain. He doubled over, and fumbled to load one of his now empty revolvers. Shaky, sap covered hands struggled to load the chambers, bullet by bullet. He steadied his breathing, and got the job done. He wasn’t finished quite yet. The door opened, and in rushed a few armed thugs. Another fan of his hammer, and another series of corpses. No witnesses, no troubles. Several enter, one leaves. At this point, Suladae should’ve tipped his cowboy hat, and blew the smoke away from his barrel. But this was real. No story written, no romanticized tale of a outlaw man saving the day. There was no coming back from this. Moments that felt like years passed before Sula was away and safe. Guards screamed at each other, blaming the others for what had happened. A bloodbath ensued, but this time, it was one Sula hadn’t been a part of. The pressure of who pulled the first trigger made nearly every thug turn on each other. That’s when the fires broke out. The way he saw it, Sula did the world a favor, at the very least it would halt the criminal organizations of Lion’s Arch. Maybe even clear his name of the underworld. All who he worked under died that day. But now it was time to get stitched up. Feelings could wait. 

So, on a warm day somewhere down the line, Laidre sneaked away with claims of having important business. Sure it was important. Maybe not for their new family, but at least to him and his siren. A trip to Lion’s Arch, and an exchange of coin later, Laidre was the new proud owner of a set of two matching rings. 

        Lythrisal stood up, and placed his little wood carving down. “Hard to believe I just love my job? Makes me feel alive.” He smirked to the two others, that same cocky grin showing off among the glow of both his body, and the fire below. “Sun’s rising. Get ready, won’t be here long. Crash is just up ahead, so keep your head on straight.” The verdant Sylvari wandered off further into the camp.

Art done by Remi!