The world was muffled and distant, as if heard through layers of earth. The child struggled beneath the crushing weight of stone and timber, dust filling his mouth, his cries swallowed by the chaos above. Flames roared unseen, crackling like a hungry beast devouring the city of Vorathis, the last stronghold of defiance in the brutal Crusade of the Ascendant Tribunal.
He heard voices, chanting crusaders, praying, punishing, victorious and zealous. He whimpered, panic seizing his small frame, when suddenly a powerful force lifted the rubble as effortlessly as straw. A brilliant light pierced the darkness, haloing the figure standing above him.
Aric Duskborne, Crusading Paladin of the Tribunal, gazed down at the child, his stern features softened by a gentle compassion. Blood and dirt marred his platinum armor, adorned with holy scripture and sealed with sacred stamps of wax. Yet, his eyes shone clear and calm amidst the carnage.
"Easy, little one," Aric said, reaching out. "It's alright now."
Trembling, the child accepted Aric's hand, lifted gently into the warrior's embrace. He clung desperately to his rescuer, sobbing silently against the cold armor.
From behind came a familiar voice, laced with familiar irritation. "Saving another stray pup, Aric?"
Aric turned, a weary smile crossing his lips. Lucius Aegyr approached, his crimson cloak billowing behind him, his own unbloodied platinum armor contrasting against the smoldering ruins.
"Come on, Lucius," Aric sighed, voice tired but resolute. "The heretics are all dead. This war is over. Surely, a child is innocent in the eyes of the gods."
Lucius chuckled, shaking his head, half amused, half resigned. "Your insistence on interpreting the will of the gods always fascinated me, old friend."
The two warriors stood side by side atop the hill, watching the city burn. Smoke curled lazily toward the heavens, mingling with the setting sun's golden rays. They had fought this war and many others, together, shoulder to shoulder through blood and death, believing unquestionably in their divine mission.
Lucius's voice grew somber. "Have you ever doubted, Aric? Even for a moment?"
Aric looked at him, puzzled. "Doubted what?"
"The gods," Lucius murmured, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. "Have you ever wondered if they're truly there? If their promise of eternal life beyond the mortal coil is real?"
Aric considered him for a moment, concern flickering across his features. But before he could answer, a squad of soldiers approached, grim-faced and attentive. Aric stepped forward, placing the child gently into their care.
"Wash him, feed him," Aric instructed, brushing dust from the boy's tear-stained face.
He turned back to Lucius, memories of a hundred battles flashing through his mind. Lucius's concern seemed genuine, and Aric, always the steady hand, sought to ease his brother-in-arms burden.
"Look to the west, Lucius. Into the fires of our conquest."
He gestured to the burning city below, where flames danced through crumbling towers and ash rode the wind like falling snow. His face, bathed in the glow of destruction, held a quiet, reverent stillness.
"If I didn't believe in the gods' promise... in their ultimate mercy... then all of this would be for nothing," he said.
Lucius stood beside him, watching the flames consume what remained of Vorathis. Aric drew a long breath, the scent of blood and fire thick in the air. His shoulders eased, and for a fleeting moment, he looked calm, almost serene. As if comforted by the belief that everything he had done, every enemy slain, every sacrifice, had been righteous in the eyes of the gods.
Aric smiled softly. "So no," he said, slow and deliberate. "I've never doubted it, Lucius. Not even for a second."
Lucius's eyes hardened. "Good."
The pain was swift and blinding, a cold blade piercing through Aric's back, shattering his spine. He gasped, collapsing to his knees, stunned. Desperately, he tried to rise, but his legs failed him, useless beneath his dead weight.
"Lu... cius…" Aric croaked, voice choked with agony and disbelief.
Lucius waved his men forward, nodding toward the child. "Slit the heretic whelp's throat."
"No…!" Aric roared, fury and desperation driving him forward. Crawling painfully, dragging his broken body through the blood-soaked earth, Aric clawed forward.
"You're right, old friend," Lucius said calmly. "This war is over."
A heavy boot pressed down on his back, grinding him into the dirt. Lucius's voice, bitter and cold, resonated above him.
"But tell me, Aric. If the gods are real, what does it say of them that they chose this end for you?"
The child's wide, tear-filled eyes locked with Aric's, pleading, desperate, begging for everything to be alright! The boy's brief cry echoed sharply, but was cut short by the ruthless efficiency of Lucius's men, and the heavy thud of a small body hitting the ground silenced the world.
Aric's vision blurred, tears mixing with dirt and blood, unable to comprehend such treachery.
Lucius leaned closer, voice dropping to a venomous whisper, holding his head up, forcing him to behold the tragedy before him. "You, their most fervent Paladin. Their mightiest Crusader. Look now at their true faces."
Aric lay broken upon the battlefield, forced to witness the city burning, his crusade ending in betrayal. As darkness claimed him, Aric Duskborne, crusader, paladin, servant of the divine, questioned everything he had once held sacred, for the first and last time.
When next he opened his eyes, there was no fire. No blood. No battlefield.
Only a blinding, golden light.
Aric stood, whole, once again, before a towering tribunal of hundreds of masked gods. The Pantheon loomed above him on thrones of every kind, their faces distant, postures unreadable.
He had devoted his life to them. Killed in their name. Died with their promise on his lips.
Now they looked upon him with cold indifference.
And said nothing.
From the center throne, the Head of the Tribunal rose. He raised a scepter of radiant judgment, and with a deafening crack of divine thunder, brought it down like a gavel.
"Let the trial of Aric Duskborne commence."