Legends of Belariath
Valardghast
Watchtower Thoughts
War journal-Valardghast: “Watchtower thoughts...”
Tonight is the darkest hour of the century when the moon blocks out the light of our star. As our fathers and grandfathers have taught us. and their forefathers taught them since the tribe was founded over 3 centuries ago. We have shuttered the windows, barred the doors, set the guards and prepared our defenses. No-one has yet replied to our plea for help, and there are a scant few hours left before midnight. The soul-eaters will come...of that I am sure. Some scoff and sat, they are tales told by drunken old men and foolish mothers who want to scare their children into obedience. But I know the truth, I spoke to Shi`eza before he died and he was there the last time they came, and his body still shook with fear in his heart.
I remember his words exactly, etched upon my memory by the rasping of his voice and he intensity of his stare. I know some thought him mad, senile in his antiquity, but there were not there to see him, to feel his hands gripping my arm so tight it went numb.
”Fear the darkness, believe not the sanctity of light. Nothing stops them, not barred window or locked door, nae magery or sword blow, no portal is closed to them, and no mortal man can stand against them and live. Make your peace with the spirits on this night, you may not see the next day. Leave this camp, and do not return, if you value your life.”
I remembered then his harsh, racking laugh which degenerated into a hacking cough. His eyes turned so hard, like stone, and he pulled me close to whisper in my ear with his short-gasped voice: “They don’t kill you. Some they slay, but others they take. They took Delia...and Lani..and others. Chains and whips, barbs and talons...their screams haunt my sleep. Why did they spare me? I did not help them...I SWEAR!!”. He then became fervent, adamantly denying any collusion with the devils that stalk men. He slept then for a while, but awoke just before dusk. I was still there. I knew he would not live another night. The fever, the ravaging disease that had kept him alive to the grand age of 2 score years and 3 was reaching its end, devouring his body from the inside, a parting gift from those devils. He raved incoherently for a while and I used an herb mixture to quiet him. He woke again after a bit of time passed, wide eyed and began to ramble again:
”Leave now, hurry boy...step down from this watchtower and make haste! Go away, far far away!! Hide, skulk, crawl on your belly through the dense tangles of the forest if you must, but be not here when they arrive. Your soul will not meet the all guarding spirits, they will take it for themselves and devour it. The pain in your soul will mirror the pain in your body. They feast upon fear, they drink your terror, they delight in your impotency to resist them. They will come and all will die or be taken. That is their way of things. They don’t kill you...THEY JUST DON’T KILL YOU!!!”
He then passed away, his last words a mere rattle to show the passing of his soul to the all guarding spirits. I see why hey spared him though...his words set in stone, cold lingering stone, a message of sorts. They never came that night, but this night is different. We found a small scouting group a few minutes from the gates. And here I sit atop this watchtower....thinking...waiting. The old man's words coming to light, as this night is the same as his last night here. Windows locked, doors closed and barred, gates closed and warriors on the ready. They want us to fear them, those devils that stalk men...they want us to live in a state of constant terror. We await them, the lingering message has set in our hearts, and it also fuels our fury, for we know two major facts...
1.They will come and they will kill us...
2.But, they don’t just kill you....
-Edaul Valardghast