She stopped, frozen, at the heavy oaken door, and eyed the light emerging from the door's borders. From some neglected corner of her mind, recognition.
Sunlight.. she muttered to herself. How long had it been? In the eternal gloom of the Dungeon, she had long ago given up on tracking the days. The light illuminated disused memories. She remembered her training, long days of arduous practice with 'rang and blade, of log keeping, and map making. She remembered the mantras and disciplines intended to allow her to retain some semblance of sanity as she plumbed the unknown depths. What she didn't remember, couldn't remember, were people.
She remembered their voices, their commands, and their warnings, but not their faces, nor their touch.
Pain had trained her. Remember the dangers, always the dangers. Rabid animals, undead, insane brigands, and cunning ninjas had fallen before her. She had cut, burned, stabbed, and poisoned her way through abominations, demons, clockwork abominations, and insane necromancers. Even Gods had fallen before her.
She had tracked Yog through Heaven and Hell, before silencing his corrupting whispers forever. Even then, there was work to be done. Yog was a servant of one even more occult and powerful than himself.
So she delved further, deeper. The old wizard's journal, still radiating power, had shown her the path. With the magic in its pages, she traveled to a wild new land, a tiny village ensconced in a mighty forest. There, she finally tracked the evil to its labyrinthine source, and vanquished all who stood before her.
Now, in the faint daylight, she examined herself in a pool of cavewater. Her body was warped almost beyond recognition by magic. Her skin, pale to the point of translucency, was caked with dirt, grime and soot. Her necklace of rings could pay a kings ransom, and her holster of wands contained enough magical energy to lay waste to armies. She gripped her weapons, literally fine enough to cut down the very gods. Truly, she had become master of this dark realm, this wasteland of despair.
She had chased evil to the far corners of the multiverse, but now she was paralyzed with fear. What if they reject her? What if they don't? How could she interact with there people anymore? Hell, she had lost count of the times death had claimed her, only to be pulled from its icy grasp.
No, there was no place for her in the light, not anymore. She turned from the meager light, and descended into the dark, perhaps for the last time.
by drazool from reddit - on Pixel Dungeon
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