Warm Regards

Steve

Is there a hand that guides a persons life? That question, which has divided the wise ones of the Empire, burnt in my mind as the guards led me to my death. According to one faction of the wise ones, the events of one's life are predetermined, written in the stars for all who have the skill to read them. If those wise ones are right, then I was meant to meet Talmine, destined to fall in love with him, and it seems doomed by that love to die for him. Fate bought us together, ignited the spark of our love, and has prepared me for sacrifice upon love's altar. I go to my death at peace with myself, because I know my beloved Talmine roams free.

Another faction of wise ones believes that life is chance and chaos. Nothing in life can be controlled, and you are at the mercy of the Gods as life tosses you back and forth, like leaves in the wind. If these wise ones are to be believed, then it was pure chance that Talmine should be the one who led the raid upon my people. Coincidence that Talmine should be taken captive and my extreme good fortune, that we should meet and fall in love. My misfortune was that our two races were at war with each other and would never accept our relationship. Not that matters to me one iota. I would rather suffer the thorns of alienation then to be denied the joys of Talmine's love.

Perhaps both factions of wise ones are wrong. It occurs to me, young and unschooled in the ways of the world as I am, that one life is the sum of the choices one has made. It wasn't fate or chance that Talmine led the attack on my people, he chose to do so. It wasn't fate or chance that Talmine and I would fall in love, we made that choice, both of us after we came to know and appreciate the qualities the other one possesses. I choose to free Talmine, knowing that the consequences of my actions could lead to my death. I did so because the Emperor had sentenced Talmine to death, and a world without Talmine in it was unbearable to me. Fate nor chance placed me in chains to be led to my death by uncaring guards. Love put me in the guard's hands, my love for Talmine, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Life was a series of choices and consequences, one made one's choices and lived with the result, good or bad. I had made my choices, I was content with the consequences. It was too late now to dwell on what might have been.

The guards tighten their grip, their cruel vice like fingers dig into my arms, as they thrust me forward, pushing me into the amphitheatre. Thought is driven from my mind by the noise of the crowd, eager for my death, that buffets me from every side. However, their baying of blood doesn't disturb me. I am at peace, Talmine is free. Trumpets blast from hidden locations, silencing the crowd, and announcing the arrival of the executioner, and of my father, the Emperor..

My heart skipped a beat at the sight of the implement of my death – the massive two-handed axe slung over the hooded executioner's shoulder. In my mind's eye, I am comforted by the memory of Talmine's smile, and the knowledge that he is spared this fate strengthens my fluttering heart. The noise, the amphitheatre, everything around me is driven from my mind at the sight of my father. His face, one illuminated by warmth and love, is now darkened by hatred. Eyes that once danced with laughter and delight, not glare out at me in bitterness and betrayal. Hands that once held and comforted me with their strength, now clenched tight into fists against me. Mouth that once smiled a father's tender love, now upturned in anger and disappointment.

The sight of my father unnerved me. Did I do the right thing in setting Talmine free? My heart says yes, does it deceive me? Have I become so blinded by emotion that I would turn my back on my people, on my own flesh and blood? No. My people's own love for blood-lust and vengeance turned me against them. If Talmine was only to be held captive, as my father promised, then I would not be standing before him today – as one of the condemned awaiting sentence. It was my father's decision to execute Talmine that forced my hand. Now he must live with the consequences of that decision, as must I. The difference is that I can face those consequences at peace with myself and the world, where as he is doomed to wrestle with bitterness and guilt for the rest of his life. I have no regrets, if I could, I would do it all over again, Talmine, my beloved is free.

“Regalis Genatos”, my father's cold, stern voice boomed as he raised his hand and pointed his finger accusingly towards me, “you stand convicted of high treason and rebellion against the throne. The penalty for which is death. Do you have any final words?”

Drawing on my inner tranquillity, like the droplets of water to a thirsty throat, I addressed the crowd in a voice that rang from the rafters. “Only that I am convinced within myself that what I did was right, and I would gladly do so again if the given the opportunity.”

“Have you no shame girl?” My father demanded angrily, his eyes flashing. “You have set free a prisoner of war. A barbarian general who will lead others of his kind to wage war upon your own people. They will fight over our carcasses like a pack of savage hounds, bring havoc and ruin upon all we have built, and yet you stand here boasting about your guilt. It would have been better that these hands of mine had strangled you at birth than to let you unleash the cruel savagery of those elven barbarians upon our homeland.”

“Barbarian,” I scoffed, “we call the elves barbarians. Why? Because they do not live as we do, in houses with roofs, rather they roam the land, and sleep under the stars. We don't consider them to be as cultured as we are, because they paint on cave walls instead of on canvass and eat with their hands rather than with knives and forks, like us civilised people.”

“They are animals” a voice from the crowd called, joined by a chorus of jeers and carefully worded insults.

“They are living beings,” I told them definitely, “and they deserve to live just as much as we do.”

“Have you finished?”, my father interrupted, malice dripping from his every word.

“No father I have not!”, I told him, resolutely turning my back to him and addressing the crowd. “Hear me, all of you. You call the elves barbarians, yet I say that it is we, with all of our culture, all of our civilsations, who are the barbarians. We have become so addicted to war and conflict that we would turn our back on a chance for peace rather than avoid bloodshed in the name of civilisation.”

“Enough”, my father cut in, “I have given you the opportunity to repent from your behaviour, and you dare to lecture us. Regalis you stand convicted of free a barbarian prisoner of war.”

“I stand convicted of setting free my beloved.”

“He killed your people.”

“He was fighting for his people.”

“He killed your brother girl”

“He was defending himself.”

“He's an Elf.”

“Yes, and he is also my beloved father and I willingly embrace death knowing that he is free.”

“You, Regalis,” my father spat, “are no daughter of mine. I curse the day you were conceived. I curse the hour of your birth. I strike you off from the annuals of our people, from this day forth, no one shall ever speak your name. You are no Orc.”

The guards roughly threw me to the ground to the delight of the crowd. I watched my father give a curt, sharp gesture to the executioner, that figure shrouded in black who held my doom in tightly clenched fists. The executioner, in a ritual as old as the empire itself, bowed first towards my father in a gesture of respectful submission, and then raised his axe to the cheers of the crowd. Turning, he strode towards me and lifted my head and held my gaze. The last thing a condemned prisoner saw was the eyes of their executioner. Stern, unrelenting, yet strangely compassionate eyes that spoke of a clean death and swift passage to the underworld. For endless moments my executioner held my gaze, then my head was covered by a hood that shut out the light.

The crowd started to chant my name, “Regalis, Regalis, Regalis.” Softly at first but then faster and faster. Somewhere in the crowd, a number of drums began to sound. Beating out my final moments and whipping the crowd up in morbid frenzy. Was this the sound of civilisation? I asked myself as I withdrew deep into my mind. Blotting out the crowd, my father, the axe that thirsted for my life's blood. I pictured myself riding free with Talmine along a lonely beach. I tasted the tang of the salt air upon my lips as I rested back into Talmine's strong embrace. The crowd roared in anticipation of my death, yet in my mind their roaring was the gentle breaking of waves beneath me as I rode with Talmine through ocean spray. A glint of sunlight from the axe caught my eye, and was transformed into sunshine on the water. The world around me erupted in a cacophony of thunder, then disappeared into darkness. Still I rode on with my beloved, my spirit at peace, because my beloved was free.