Ancient Stairs
Centuries later, lying on his deathbed, Grangal, that dwarven warrior of so many legends, was wet with fret about the one great failure in his life.
It was in an ancient castle occupied by an equally ancient Lich who had been plaguing the nearby lands, filling the residents’ dreams with nightmares that kept them eternally awake. Grangal had been passing through the area on his return from the epic battle of Tor-as-ling, full of victory and overconfidence.
Haggard, tired, and starving, the people approached him, their desperate eyes pleading for his help. They were unable to work and unable to survive due to the constant plague of nightmares filling their minds. They needed to be freed from these mental shackles simply to be able to live again.
Grangal heard their plight and of the cackling Lich that plagued their dreams. They pointed him in the direction of the ancient, crumbling castle in the distance. Cradling his trusty battle axe, Grangal chuckled to himself. An old Lich? A few solid swipes and he’d be back in time for a celebration in his honour by nightfall. He thought fondly of the feasting, ale, and company awaiting him.
There wasn’t much left of the castle, abandoned by some long-forgotten ancient ruler. All that remained was a crumbling staircase spiralling up to the one remaining floor of the structure. Grangal assumed the Lich’s lair was there, and the artificial lightning surrounding the area confirmed his suspicions. “Typical sorcery show off!” He thought to himself.
Climbing the stairs two steps at a time, he huffed and puffed his way to the pinnacle, feeling the satisfying bounce of his battle axe in his hands.
Two steps from the top, he was paralysed. His mind was full of living nightmares. There were the ghosts of all of those he had killed surrounding him. Goading him, telling him of the pain and anguish he had caused them and their loved ones. He had never thought of his enemies as entities with families and loved ones, and their cries of woe brought tears of guilt to his eyes. They poked and prodded him, and he collapsed to his knees in floods of shame. He eventually built enough courage to flee the scene, stumbling down those ancient stairs in anguish from the spiritual cacophony.
He didn’t know what had happened to the people in that area since. He had never returned there, avoiding it with feigned excuses until he eventually constructed new legends, and the memory faded.
It was now, on his deathbed, that he wondered what and who would be waiting for him in the afterlife. Would the swelled spirits of his enemies be waiting for him once more to torment him for eternity? He was afraid of dying, but what could he do to prevent it? It comes to take us all eventually. As he closed his eyes and drew his last breath, he hoped that the experience on those ancient castle stairs was just a horrific vision and not his destiny.
If you like what you're reading, support my work
Summarize YouTube videos, PDFs, articles, lectures, audios, PPTs, and images. Instantly create notes, mind maps, and presentations. Boost your learning efficiency by 10x.
Try NoteGPT
Want to improve your productivity on macOS with a Shortcut to everything.
Try Raycast