#old realms

I remember the start. It was really tame all things considered. I found myself in the empty fields on the border of Mirkwood. Tasked with the vague mission from a self proclaimed maker to "change the story." Whatever that was supposed to mean. But I didn't know what else to do. So I walked into the ruins, tomb of the kings who became ringwraiths. And used the old lore to sing Sauron out of the forest entirely. It was beyond terrifying and I still can't believe it worked. But I collapsed at the entrance and was taken by Thurandril.

I was apparently unconscious for nearly a week and by the time I woke the Dwarven company had been behind bars for 2 days. It took no small effort to convince the elven king I was no threat and Bilbo had taken the opportunity to free his friends. Naturally I rode after them with the elven army and somehow managed to throw myself into the thick of battle for the first time just to save Thorin and his nephews. It was tricky trying to break the curse of the gold madness from his bloodline but still preferable to an arrow in my ribs.

A few decades later I figured out that I was utterly cursed. The "Maker" confirmed that I would be eternal until he released me from his service. I've never been so angry. My first and only red rage. The injustice was unbearable, yet bear it I must. My will was no longer my own.

The years flew by, I spent the better part of them taking the ring to Mordor in an enchanted pouch. The rest of the time I spent helping Aragon become the king he was always meant to be. The valley of the dead still haunts my nightmares from time to time. I prefer them to the Ether dreams though. Saruman was the most difficult issue to tackle. Ultimately I deferred to Gandalf to decide his fate. All that remained was the Balrog. If not for Galadriel the party might have lost most of their lives.

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Faced with a choice for the first time since my suffering started, I choose to go back to the beginning. We found ourselves outside Mirkwood once more at the lake shore. I guided my companion towards the Lonely Mountain silently. Baldur was being particularly careful and seemed lost for words as we hugged the shoreline all the way to Dale.

I would say I was disappointed to not recognize anyone passing through the mountains front gates, but I don't think I was actually looking for anyone in particular. We wandered right into the throne chamber where a pair of very grey haired dwarves were conversing quietly, one of which was wearing a gilded crown. Thorin seemed very well adjusted to his role as venerated king as he spotted our approach and could not conceal his surprise.

"It can't be. Bes? Is that you?"

I simply nodded as he met us halfway.

"By the stones. You haven't aged a day. Though you seem to have survived a great many dangerous adventures since last I laid eyes on you." He reached for me and I stooped low to receive his warm greeting. But the weight of my burdens had me fall hard, and I ended up crumbling at Thorin's feet silently crying. Baldur quickly reached out to comfort me as the dwarves bustled about, sending servants to prepare a room and supplies to tend to me and my companion.

By nightfall I had managed to find my voice and regale my old friends with an abridged version of my quests. Thorin bade us to rest as long as we needed, that the Hero of the Mountain had a permanent place of honor here. It moved me to tears yet again and I slept well into the next day. We lingered in the Dwarven kingdom for a few weeks until word came from Algarond about Gimli and Legolas. So we set off to find the glittering caves with presents from the Mountain for the newest settlement.

Along the way we ran into Gandalf who joined us after seeing how deep my silence went.

"Your song is missing, my dear."

"It hurts too much right now."

"Perhaps you should seek out the Lady of the White Forest next. She might have a remedy for your damaged soul."

Baldur pestered the old warlock about the "Lady" but Gandalf seemed to take great delight in being vague, much to Baldur's aggravation. Gimli was more emotional than Thorin had been and Legolas more expressive in his sympathy than I had yet seen him. I brushed aside their worries and spend yet more weeks getting lost in the beautiful caverns. Gemstones of all kinds and sizes lined the very walls in most of the chambers and the builders had decided to frame the twinkling ceilings while leaving the crystal completely untouched.

It was the pride of the settlement and for good reason. I spent countless hours simply sitting beneath the sparkling array of the veritable calidescope of different gems, highlighted by the strategic placement of softly glowing lanterns. The play of light was mesmerizing. When I was left completely alone I could sit and listen to the gentle, far away patter of water dripping down the walls or showering slowly off a few brilliant clusters. I felt the beginnings of my healing process and knew it would be years yet until I could laugh freely again.

Two months we lingered in the bejeweled caves, admiring the natural beauty packed into each antechamber. But I slowly felt the need to wander so we struck out to find the White Forest as Gandalf had suggested. Baldur seemed especially humbled by the towering bone white trees. The wood was quiet and serene. Until we were found by a patrol who immediately escorted us to Galadriel. She seemed happy and sad to see me again. Baldur remained alert as she approached and it occurred to me that the elven matriarch carried the same air of immese magic power that Freya did.

As the Lady came close I turned to Baldur with a steadying hand and a murmured reassurance that we were very safe here.

"I welcome you, wayward champion. And your companion. Tell me what has caused you such terrible scars. "

"Stubbornness."

"It is more than that. These scars have infected your soul."

"It was fine until Aldar's fall. I failed terribly. I was never good at dealing with guilt. "

"You are only human. Your taskmaster can't expect you to preform miracles."

"But I have accomplished miracles. I made a mistake. In my arrogance, I have lost a key figure. I had to take his life."

Sorrow and regret overtook me then and I was bedridden for several days. Indeed, Galadriel used every means at her disposal to assist in my healing process, which allowed me to find my feet sooner rather that later. But the pain in my soul remained unchanged. The rest of the season I meditated under the trees. I communed with the woodland creatures and feasted with the elves. At seasons end I saw fit to move on again and Galadriel sent us away with her blessing.

We landed on the edge of Cities. The small floating island densely packed with all manner of buildings. I was thoroughly disoriented by the sight for a full day. It was only when Chester damn near bowled me over that I finally recalled the story from my childhood. Over a century ago. The realization struck me dumb again long enough for the scrapper to rush off before I could offer any help, guards hot on his tail.

As we wandered the square I continued struggling to remember the details. Was Ashton here this year or next? Should we search for the blimp or the gondola to reach the University? If only we could find and befriend a Griffin we could travel freely but I couldn't recall who the most generous one was. Justin or Dorphon? My confusion put Baldur on high alert and he barely complained when I insisted he wear a shirt so he wouldn't be mistaken for a convict.

The music quarter provided some much needed direction in the form of Cassie's Ballad. The sung tale reminding me of the Seal's sacrifice and how Dorphon had been rejected at the end. He would be guarded but important to changing this story. I had to stop his Maddness from growing. So we set off in search of the spurned male lead to try to get a foothold in this realm.

In my disorientation, I ended up landing us on the Surface instead of the Barrack Nests. But luck was with us as we found Dorphon while looking for another ascending blimp. He was predictably paranoid but just as kindly as I recalled. I urged him to seek the Headmaster out for a new quest instead of looking for Adda in the catacombs. I could distinctly remember Adda's betrayal in the Withered Wood. The knife in the back Ceasar style was a fate best avoided.

We loaded into Dorphon's basket and followed him to the Academy tower. When he left the Headmasters office, it was with a new determination in his eyes and a goal in mind. We offered our help and he hesitantly agreed. So we set off to the outer islands to find the missing mechanism. Luckily I remember most of the details of the quest and was able to help Dorphon solve the puzzles. We got through the Trails of Splendor rather quickly, though this had the unfortunate side affect of making me seem smarter than I really was.

We managed to get through the final grotto as the sun set and was able to rest and be ready for the Climb of Wings. While the boys handled the challenge with relative ease I had to be hoisted through most of it like an overgrown infant. All that Jedi training was wasted on me it seemed. At the Pinnacle we found the part and Dorphon was able to call his Griffin to retrieve us from the crumbling port.

I could fill a book with all the little tasks we did during our time in the Exhaulted Kingdom but time passed by. We had changed the story. Yet we lingered. When Dorphon set off on his Final Farewell, I looked at his children, his sons and daughter, and realized we would be stuck here until the next story started. In 1000 years. Time I would be forced to face with no mission.

We were shoved into a crumbling world. Everything was both familiar and completely alien. As I looked around the "Maker" was whispering how he lost control of the transport and we really didn't need to be here. Unfortunately, it would take him a bit of time to regain control so we just had to focus on surviving for the time being.

His departure was preceded but Samiels arrival. His sudden entrance left me speechless for a moment. That is how he managed to surround us and I felt forced to appease his whims until we could be sent to a new realm. Fortunately, on the way to his battle tower we met War. Who immediately started swinging at the demon. While the spectical was rather entertaining, Baldur was becoming rather invested in the fight. I had to remind him not to interfere since this was a necessary script for the fate of this realm. He was understandably miffed about this but I explained that the alternative would be the utter destruction of the entire realm. So we remained spectators.

Once Samiel fled, War turned to us and informed us that he was escort us to his brother to be moved to Eden. I shrugged and followed him wordlessly. Baldur, on the other hand, struggled to hold his tongue. He had endless questions about the Horseman's fighting style. War only seemed mildly annoyed but did answer a few of his questions. This surprisingly occupied us all the way to the ruin city's center where Strife matched Baldur's chattiness even as he herded us into the portal and right through the gates of Eden.

Fury met us there and lectured her brother about keeping secrets from the innocent. To which I couldn't help but blurt out how we had far too much blood on our hands to ever be mistaken as innocent. Obviously this led to a philosophical debate on morals and killing to survive or save others. Long hours i found myself arguing with the hot headed Horsewoman. I hadn't felt so much like myself in decades that I just kept going. Long tangents and headspinning topics, always finding another point to talk about. When I finally took a break from the debate I found Baldur staring at me with a very odd expression.

"What?"

"I've never seen you so engaged. Were you a scholar before?"

"No. But maybe I could have been if I had the money for schooling. "

I knew I wouldn't be able to handle Mr. Sunshine in the moment so I turned away from the mountains and led Baldur into the heartlands. It wasn't long before we ran into Lambert. I was mildly amused to see Baldur quietly staring down the rambunctious spitfire, and we both looked on silently while the Red Wolf chased off a few catcallers that had taken notice of me.

Baldur declared Lambert to be "alright" and ordered him a pint at the tavern. The story was so complex and we had been dropped in the middle of it that I wasn't entirely sure what to do about any of it. So we stuck to the young witcher for a while and met Aiden. Who promptly told Lambert he wanted to be part of "whatever you two are doing behind closed doors". Referencing me and Lambert.

I stared at Lambert for a few seconds. "Have we ever actually closed the door?"

"Can't honestly say we have." He responded in the same monotone. We both shrug and turn back to the Cat.

"You disappoint me, Wolf. I thought you knew how to use your charms."

"What the fuck are you all talking about?!"

As Baldur angrily demanded an explanation I poked around the local griffin nest and the witchers set about collecting the bounty on the beast. I didn't even hesitate before hefting the head all the way to town, tossing it at the mayor's feet, and collecting the full reward for it before handing the full purse directly to Lambert.

And so began an unlikely friendship with the two witchers. Years passed rather slowly, so I was mildly surprised to realize that Aiden's death would be staged soon. It took just a month to tear apart that entire scheme. And I began to realize I was getting attached again. I wandered off with Baldur trailing behind me to sort through my feelings. A year I spent tracking Emhyr and mulling over everything. The emporer finally decided to confront me and we wagered a fair duel. His men were very upset at their sovereigns defeat but I now had permission to cross the emperial borders freely.

At which point I turned around and began hunting for the witchers again. Before I could find the Red Wolf tho, we stumbled upon the Dragon. Wrapped up in succubi. I almost left him to it but when I looked closer it was apparent they intended to kill him when they finished feeding off him. We chased them away but the fever lingered, growing to dangerous levels rather quickly. A choice I'd make a thousand times over, I sent Baldur to find a healer while I tackled his lust directly. Couldn't rightly walk for a day afterwards and I couldn't have been more pleased about it. The way Eskel acted you would think he forced himself on me despite my numerous reassurances that I was perfectly content to be bedridden with a witcher massaging my sore muscles.

We left him at a fork in the road and met back up with Lambert halfway through Kaedwen and followed him back to the foot of the Blue mountains. Back in the quiet village where we finally met Geralt. He seemed uncomfortable so I kept my distance even when Lambert nagged him for being antisocial. When Vesemir arrived in the square he met us with barely concealed hostility. At which point I chose to withdraw entirely. With a promise to meet Lambert at the border in the middle of spring. We wandered off to random towns, drifting for the cold months.

Spring came early but our reunion with the Red Wolf was marked by the company of his mentor. Lambert greeted us with a long suffering look as Vesemir launched into an aggressive interrogation. Which I immediately shut down, much to Lambert's delight. I didn't need to explain anything to the old wolf and would not entertain his questions for even a moment.

I knew his hostility was due mostly to the fatherly role he had taken on for the past few centuries, but if we intended harm for Lambert, it would have already happened. Vesemir was not happy to hear that we had meet years ago but could not argue the facts. We struck out to find monster contracts and Vesemir turned back towards his mountain home.

Bitter and still in mourning, I began the trek to the lake. Only to find i wasn't here to save anyone. So then how to change the story? With the bifrost broken there was no way for me to track down any familiar faces. And I didn't really need to, because one such face was already at the temple, working at his forge.

But I couldn't sigh in relief at the sight of Sindri. It was clear he was still struggling with Brok's death. My heart ached dully, as I was struggling with my own grief. I could see myself in the stiff edge of defeat in his shoulders. The grim anger that pinched his brow. But I needed his help to press forward. My heart couldn't bear any more attachments in the moment. I asked for a way to Alfheim.

He looked me over for a moment and shook his head. "It won't work, so don't even bother. "

"I know. I need something else."

He reluctantly handed over the seed and I promised to return with any coin I found in my search. Obviously he didn't believe that I had no interest in the Well of Souls, but I couldn't fault him for it. Instead I turned my attention to the desert library. A small jar of healing salve and a simple question earned me admittance from the keeper. I studied the map found on a high shelf and memorized the route.

I still can't tell you what drove Sindri to join me but I'm glad he was there. I might have lost my sanity to the silence otherwise. When we arrived at the ruins I didn't hesitate. The crumbling walls and missing bridges would not stop me. I didn't care about getting hurt or being poisoned by traps. By the time we arrived in the ritual chamber Sindri was trying to argue that I wasn't ready for whatever waited inside. But that was beside the point.

We studied the carvings that depicted exactly what I was looking for. The "Maker" became noisy at this point. The only way to pull a soul out of the Ether was to go in yourself. Mine was a mortal soul. Not even the curse of immorality could fully protect me. The "Maker " could not guarantee my life in there. But that was the point. Amidst sobbing pleas and shouts to turn back I pushed Sindri to the side and walked right in.

Pain like nothing anyone has ever imagined overwhelmed me. Burning through my body and soul, ringing in my ears. And through the chaos of the white void I fought to find those I came for. It almost didn't work. The next time I could hear, there was a steady thump pressed to my ear. When I could move I felt rough skin beneath my hands. When I finally opened my eyes, it was to sight of a very annoyed looking Baldur.

"Go back to sleep. You are no where near ready to be moving just yet." He groosed in a shockingly soft voice. I distinctly recall his shrill screams in the Ether. I shook my head carefully and slowly moved to sit up, much to his aggravation. He reprimanded me, nagging even as he gently steadied me so I could drink water and sip on a bowl of soup. Days bled into one another as I slowly recovered from the most painful decision of my existence. Yet I could not regret it.

I took immense satisfaction from the inconsolable state of the "Maker". He could not comprehend why i would do something so foolish just to spite him. It was just further proof of his lies. A true Creator would understand the pain of losing your child, your world, your reality. By comparison the burns from the Ether were nothing. But those scars would stay with me forever.

Days turned into weeks, and in that time I discovered that everyone had pledged to return the favor to me. I simply refused to give them the opportunity. I felt hollow, numb, and bitter. I imagined it wasn't too dissimilar to how Baldur felt with his "blessing ". I had a newfound distaste for Freya then. Still when I could move freely again and my scars looked more like an optical illusion i demanded the Coward take me to a new realm. I had done all I could here and I didn't want to linger. But Baldur would not let me go so easily.

I popped into a strange planet while arguing with the "Maker" about my "devotion to the mission." I just didn't care about anything they wanted. I just wanted to go home. In frustration I had to weave precariously throw laser blasts and sprinting soldiers. I ran straight into a crowd of panicking civilians right as the Jedi came into view. An unlucky hit to my shoulder blades had me on the floor in unimaginable pain. Phaser blasters hurt way worse than arrows. Who knew?

When I opened my eyes next we were already in orbit and all the refugees were being freighted to the Temple. Qui-Gon was assigned to be my minder while I recovered and I ended up earning his trust. I decided if every mission was going to involve pain and violence I needed to learn how to defend myself properly. Brute force wasn't going to cut it, I needed to be competent. So I trained with Obi-Wan in martial arts, pilot lessons, and tactical knowledge. I was growing closer to the master-padawan duo. Dangerously close.

I decided that Anakin's arrogance could be tempered by his mother's love and moved mother and son to a remote peaceful planet where the Sith and the Jedi never found them. But I still wanted Padme to be part of his life. It was tricky figuring a subtle way to introduce them so they would still fall in love. But eventually they married and Luke was born.

Convincing everyone to ignore the fact that I never visually aged or slowed down at all was easier than I thought. But Qui-gon was always watching. On his deathbed he asked I watch over Obi-Wan as he trained Luke. It was a rough day for everyone. And still I wasn't ready when Obi-Wan fell in battle several years later. Made harder to bear because in a moment of weakness I sent him on his final mission with a kiss.

Luke took it hardest, even snapping at his sister. She was already pregnant and Luke was struggling with the war and his master's death. I had to step up and ease his sorrow. When the war finally ended I moved my focus to Ben. I supported him when his parents were absent. I listened when others commanded. And that is how I kept him from Snoke. But it wasn't enough. The story wasn't over yet. Rey was still waiting.

They met by genuine accident. Ben was upset that Han had rushed off to another misadventure and decided to blow some steam off on Jakku. When I had caught up with him he was trying to pressure her into joining the Jedi. A few days of playing mediator and I got them both off the planet. Luke nearly lost his mind from the stress of the whole situation and tried to refuse to train Rey. I argued that if he wouldn't, Ben definitely would. And since Ben was still a young padawan Rey would likely develop bad habits if Luke persisted in his refusal.

Obviously he was suffering more from the war than he let on. So I dedicated some time to unraveling his fears. That was when I slipped right into the well of feelings I had tightly sealed off ever since the first day. We fell into bed together and I cried properly. The "Maker" was whispering about moving on to the next mission even though I wasn't quite done here. I was granted just enough time to see Luke make the final choice to sacrifice himself to save Rey and Ben from Palpatine. Just enough time to bury him and ensure the dyad bond was firm before I was pulled into the next realm.