Excerpts from the Grave
You find a collection of papers stashed between some unused spellbooks. Almost as if placed there purposely so no other eyes can gaze upon it. It's nothing special. Just a bunch of various writings that range from recounted memories to random scribbles of words. But surely, it must mean something to him.
Message
I return home one night, joyous of what spoils have been brought to us through blood and blade. Yet you are still awake the moment I return. Something is wrong. The moon is high enough for everyone to be asleep, and yet you wait for me to enter through the threshold of our home. No lights on, concealing your face from me. Yet I could hear the fear in your tone. “I thought you wouldn’t come back.”
I step into the room to be greeted by your embrace. You tightly hold onto me as if I were to leave again. I won’t leave, at least for now. You tell me how you don’t want me to go again. I am reminded of the life I have. My job, my marriage, my children. And yet I can’t bear to tell you how null it feels. Instead, I reassure you that I’m not leaving.
You place something in my hand. I can feel the warm metallic against my hand. You tell me what it is. It’s an earring, one that will let me talk to you when we are not near. You told me to promise you that I would wear it no matter what. And I promise you that I will always be there, even when I am far away.
The earring still remains, but I no longer call to you. You are long gone, as so is my promise. But at least I can’t worry you now.