The pain of Mehron, the grand warden of the north. Jalten short stories #2

“Is this justice? Is this truly an act the Gods see as right? If it is… I must be blind” Mehron gazed upon the frozen valley of Aronailos with a deep expression of grief on his face. His long white hair wobbled in the sharp and cold wind and his silver skin glittered in the light of the moon. His smooth white horns had small layers of snow on them, but he didn’t seem to care. He studied the small figures walking in the distance with his glowing blue eyes and with every figure he saw, his face turned darker and frowned .

“You’re not blind, my lord,” a voice spoke behind him. “You did what you deemed right and you did it for the good of your people,” Mehron sneered and turned around.

“Do you think they’re happy? Do you think this is the life they wished?” he walked closer to the young man and stared deep into his eyes. “My brother lives in peace in the east, where it’s warm… where plants grow and the sun shines… do you think my people wanted to live here… in the lands of death and sorrow?” As he spoke his final words, he glanced down on the snowy ground and sighed. He tightened his red fur cloak and placed his hand on the handle of his sword as thoughts took him, once again.

“We chose to follow you, my lord. We had the chance to join Thorald… but we didn’t. We chose to remain with you… we chose to remain as true Mulwutar.” A short smiled grew on Mehron’s face as he glanced at the young man again. He placed his hand on his shoulder and said:

“And I’m more than honored to have people like you with me here… I just… doubt your condition at times…” Mehron released the man and walked back to the cliff. He continued staring upon the valy and the dark citadel of Arenailos; the prison. The dark citadel was built into the greatest mountain in the whole north and it was his home and his place of eternal duty.

“We will always be on your side, my lord. My father has told me the stories of you during the Divine wars,” the young man glanced at Mehron, before quickly pulling his eyes out of him, “and I’m more than honored to fight for that hero… that champion,” This time, Mehron remained silent. There was no smile on his face; not even a hint of it. He remained cold, chained by his thoughts until he muttered:

“I’m no hero…” He turned around and began walking down the path that led to the city. He waved his hand, urging the young man to join him and he did. “Who sent you here anyways?” Mehron asked, but didn’t even look at the young man.

“Your… wife wanted me to bring you back, my lord. You’ve been out for over a day now,” Mehron let out a weak chuckle and answered:

“A day?” he scorned, “It felt like a year,” A silence followed and Mehron’s face turned serious, worried even. He frowned and his eyes sank into the abyss of thoughts.

“My lord?” The young man asked with a voice, just enough to break through the freezing wind. Mehron flinched, glanced around him in a panic, before quickly calming down. It was like he had just woken from a dream. Mehron sighed as he realized his whereabouts, once again.,

“I’m fine… it’s just…”

“It’s what?”

Mehron didn’t answer. He closed his eyes for a moment and allowed a lonely tear to travel down on his cheek.

After he got to the city, he gave the young man a few coins and thanked him for his help. He then made his way to his citadel, his home. He walked in the spacious and empty halls, his steps echoing in the air until they vanished into the emptiness of the citadel. He kept venturing through the ancient pathways and tunnels until he found the place he searched for. There was an old wooden door in front of him. There was no sound from the other side, which made his legs tremble a bit. He glanced at the doorknob with an expression beyond regular worry and then, he got inside. The door screamed a silent scream as he entered.

The room was cold, but still warmer than the rest of the citadel. There were few pieces of furniture here and there, but overall, it was depressinly empty.

“Mehron?” a female whisper called from the other side of the room.

“Oanil…” Mehron cried as he walked to the source of the voice. There was a bed, covered in soft and warm sheets and fur and under them, there was a woman, beautiful as the Goddess herself. Her skin was lighter than Mehron’s and her eyes shined brighter, but still faintly. Her hair was long, owning a few different shades of grey and white. Her horns were small, yet elegant and beautiful. Mehron touched her smooth and warm face and as he did, a warm smile grew on her face.

“I’ve missed you, my love…” she whispered faintly, for her voice vanished before she was able to speak.

“I’ve missed you too,” Mehron spoke as he kissed her sweet lips. For a few moments, they just kissed and as they did, Mehron’s hands brushed through her hair, making her smile even more. He then moved back, revealing his tear filled face. He asked:

“What did the druids tell you?” Her smile grew, but her eyes began to tear up. She remained silent, but Mehron got his answer from her tears. He turned around, before collapsing on the stone floor and screaming out in agony. His scream echoed through the citadel’s halls so loudly, that the guards patrolling outside were able to hear his pain. He grew silent and stared at his lover. She was crying and sobbing. Slowly, he stood up and walked back to her.

“How long?” She gulped her tears and said:

“Three years… if I’m lucky… I may remain four…” Silence, close to death descended upon them. Mehron closed his eyes again and began to think. Her silence made Oanil anxious, but she kept her words to herself. Finally, Mehron opened his eyes and kissed her with such passion she almost fainted.

“I will travel to the lands of men… and I will bring the cure to you, my love,” he whispered into her ears, after which he kissed her again. But as she understood his words, she pushed him back and stared at him with fear.

“You can’t leave the north… you made a pact! They will — ”

“Shh” he muttered softly as he brushed her cheeks again, admiring her eyes. “They will not get me… and if they will… you’ll still live…” He then kissed her for the final time, before standing up and slowly making his way to the door.

“They’ll kill you!” she cried, “If they won’t, the humans will! Please, my love… don’t go!” Mehron rested his hand on the cold door handle and stopped to consider his next words. He then turned to her and spoke:

“I’ve been doomed a long time ago… and no matter what happens… I will always do anything to save you, my love…” He then opened the door and walked out, tears flowing. As he left, he could hear her sobbing and muttering. It broke his heart, but he knew he had to do this; for her, his beloved wife.

If you enjoyed this story, be sure to comment your thoughts and follow my blog! I’m always reading comments and hearing your thoughts is wonderful! Thanks for reading!

This picture gave me inspiration for the citadel of Aronailos! It’s not done by me though!

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