Years of war had passed, leaving Nethis with the bitter sweet taste of victory in his mouth, victory he knew, was only achieved, by slaughtering the enemy. But victory was victory, and in war, one had to take what they were given, or risk losing all together. But that war was over, Apollyon was defeated, not slain, but cast away into a void once again, locked and sealed up, never again to scour the lands with his awful fury.
The war was over; Nethis had free time, for the first time in over twenty years. What would he do' What should he do' He would return home.
Home, an interesting that that was for him, his home had been in Rhy"Din as a child, and on the battlefield as a young man and soldier, but now that he was retired, where would his new home be? "Rhy"Din," he spoke aloud as he sat in the tent that had served as his room while their army marched back toward their king. "Rhy"Din, I'll go back to Rhy"Din, maybe mother still lives there," he hadn't heard from his sweet mother in years, and had always hoped he'd get to go back and visit her.
Months later, Nethis no longer wore armor everywhere he went, no longer had to constantly carry his sword and shield, he was on the road, on the road to Rhy"Din, on the way home.
It was just as he had remembered it. A grand city, with a myriad of sights, sounds, and colors assaulting his senses from every direction at once. The hustle and bustle of the marketplace was what he first was attracted to, the shouts and cries of merchants haggling with shoppers, children going "Ooh' and "Ah' at the sights of cheap trinkets made to look better than they really were. It was life that he saw before him, actual life, without the constant threat of an army marching into your home and killing you and everyone present. Sure, Rhy"Din had dangers, every city had dangers, and it was even more dangerous than most cities, but Rhy"Din was also, fair. It was fair to those who worked, fair to those who sought refuge from trials and hard times, fair in general, a place where neither justice nor injustice reigned supreme, but with many shades of gray in between.
His first stop had been the Red Dragon Inn, a long time honored establishment, popular to this day even, one filled with every type of drink, food, and patron you could think of. A relatively warm atmosphere, but a bit too noisy for Nethis, he had come in search of peace, and peace was what he would find. For the time being, he had booked a room at the Inn, and placed his things there so that he could explore in peace.
His second day in Rhy"Din proved to be the most difficult one, but also the easiest to accept. He visited his families" old home, saw that it was not only empty, but had been the subject of an act of arson a few years back. He asked around the neighborhood about the woman who had lived there, until finally, one elderly woman proved to yield results.
"Good gods, boy how you've grown!" the woman exclaimed upon seeing Nethis at her door. Nethis smiled immediately, he remembered her as the woman who had owned a bakery just around the corner, she often had given a young Nethis sweet rolls. "Come in, come in, tell me everything!" she said with pure excitement, seems she was the last one in the neighborhood who had lived there when Nethis was a child. The woman ushered him in, sat him down at a chair, and immediately went through a string of questions, all of which, she was insistent he answered before he could ask her anything.
After giving a recount of his time at the war, the death of his father, and the defeat of Apollyon, she assented. He cheer died down almost the moment he asked about his mother. "Poor boy, Cassandra, gods bless her soul, died in a fire a few years back, a couple of the neighborhood hoodlums thought it'd be funny to light a hay bail on fire under her window, scare her into thinking the place was burning around her. The flames caught onto the house, and burned right through her room, she didn't even make it to the bedroom door," she spoke solemnly, shaking her head ever so slightly left and right, while looking down at her hands.
"Where is she buried?" Nethis asked as he swallowed past the lump in his throat. She told him where, gave him directions, and Nethis left. He found his mothers grave and sighed. Heartbreaking to be sure, painful without a doubt, for a moment he felt as if the entire world had just crashed down on him. But a moment later, another sigh came; he shook away the pain, offered his words of respect and love to his mother and whatever gods cared for her soul, then left. He had fought for twenty years; death was a common thing for him, easy to accept.
The war was over; Nethis had free time, for the first time in over twenty years. What would he do' What should he do' He would return home.
Home, an interesting that that was for him, his home had been in Rhy"Din as a child, and on the battlefield as a young man and soldier, but now that he was retired, where would his new home be? "Rhy"Din," he spoke aloud as he sat in the tent that had served as his room while their army marched back toward their king. "Rhy"Din, I'll go back to Rhy"Din, maybe mother still lives there," he hadn't heard from his sweet mother in years, and had always hoped he'd get to go back and visit her.
Months later, Nethis no longer wore armor everywhere he went, no longer had to constantly carry his sword and shield, he was on the road, on the road to Rhy"Din, on the way home.
It was just as he had remembered it. A grand city, with a myriad of sights, sounds, and colors assaulting his senses from every direction at once. The hustle and bustle of the marketplace was what he first was attracted to, the shouts and cries of merchants haggling with shoppers, children going "Ooh' and "Ah' at the sights of cheap trinkets made to look better than they really were. It was life that he saw before him, actual life, without the constant threat of an army marching into your home and killing you and everyone present. Sure, Rhy"Din had dangers, every city had dangers, and it was even more dangerous than most cities, but Rhy"Din was also, fair. It was fair to those who worked, fair to those who sought refuge from trials and hard times, fair in general, a place where neither justice nor injustice reigned supreme, but with many shades of gray in between.
His first stop had been the Red Dragon Inn, a long time honored establishment, popular to this day even, one filled with every type of drink, food, and patron you could think of. A relatively warm atmosphere, but a bit too noisy for Nethis, he had come in search of peace, and peace was what he would find. For the time being, he had booked a room at the Inn, and placed his things there so that he could explore in peace.
His second day in Rhy"Din proved to be the most difficult one, but also the easiest to accept. He visited his families" old home, saw that it was not only empty, but had been the subject of an act of arson a few years back. He asked around the neighborhood about the woman who had lived there, until finally, one elderly woman proved to yield results.
"Good gods, boy how you've grown!" the woman exclaimed upon seeing Nethis at her door. Nethis smiled immediately, he remembered her as the woman who had owned a bakery just around the corner, she often had given a young Nethis sweet rolls. "Come in, come in, tell me everything!" she said with pure excitement, seems she was the last one in the neighborhood who had lived there when Nethis was a child. The woman ushered him in, sat him down at a chair, and immediately went through a string of questions, all of which, she was insistent he answered before he could ask her anything.
After giving a recount of his time at the war, the death of his father, and the defeat of Apollyon, she assented. He cheer died down almost the moment he asked about his mother. "Poor boy, Cassandra, gods bless her soul, died in a fire a few years back, a couple of the neighborhood hoodlums thought it'd be funny to light a hay bail on fire under her window, scare her into thinking the place was burning around her. The flames caught onto the house, and burned right through her room, she didn't even make it to the bedroom door," she spoke solemnly, shaking her head ever so slightly left and right, while looking down at her hands.
"Where is she buried?" Nethis asked as he swallowed past the lump in his throat. She told him where, gave him directions, and Nethis left. He found his mothers grave and sighed. Heartbreaking to be sure, painful without a doubt, for a moment he felt as if the entire world had just crashed down on him. But a moment later, another sigh came; he shook away the pain, offered his words of respect and love to his mother and whatever gods cared for her soul, then left. He had fought for twenty years; death was a common thing for him, easy to accept.