Death was a constant presence in Roric’s life. On multiple occasions, he had escaped her grasp by the skin of his teeth. Each man that had stood in front of him on the battlefield wanted to send him to her. But their relationship went deeper than that. He knew death long before he became a soldier. And no matter how many times they’ve crossed their paths, he was never ready for her embrace. No matter how vividly he tried to imagine meeting her or how many stories he knew, nothing could prepare him for this moment. The realization that he was staring into her eyes made him feel a wave of crippling emotion.
Remorse, like no other, washed over him. He knew his time in this world had come to an end, and the pain of regret suddenly became worse than the pain in his chest. He wished he hadn’t done some of the things he did. He wished he had done others that he didn’t. But the regret that cut the deepest was that he hadn’t loved more. He was a man of passion. Despite everything he had done and everything that was done to him, Roric had a big heart. One girl managed to fill it with love, joy, and light. But even she couldn’t reach the farthest corners of his soul where darkness still lingered.
Anya deserved much more than he could give. Roric knew that. He gave all the love that he could conjure, but as he bled out in the cold mud, he regretted not being able to give more. He wanted to take back all the small quarrels and disagreements, all the harsh words and outbursts. But it was too late for that. Roric thought he had eternity ahead of him to make things right.
But you never know when your last day will come. All he could leave behind was a pile of corpses, her broken heart, and a wish. A wish that he had created something beautiful, but he didn’t even manage to grow flowers in his garden. Neatly locked away, all those thoughts were bursting out, ravishing him like demons. Each emotion he had disregarded came for him, and there was no running away. It was his to feel.
“Will my life flash before my eyes now?” - Roric asked.
“Not all of it, only the moments that you don’t want to remember.” - Mora said
“This doesn’t sound pleasant.” - he said.
“It’s not meant to be.”
There was no running away now. Violent people have violent ends. He wanted to grow old with her, to see their children and grandchildren grow. But what he wanted and what he was capable of were different things. He wanted the farmer’s life, but his destiny was the warrior’s. You win the prizes that you fight for, and this was his. Cut down by one of his own soldiers. He will leave behind a nameless corpse and his wife’s vain hope to see him again. Oh, how heroic.
“Where should I start?” - Roric said.