Every night in his dreams, Tensper saw his blade slide through Eliana’s neck and the look of disbelief pass over her face before the light in her eyes would disappear forever.

This night was no different, except Tensper had no idea where he was. He looked around and saw the alley he was slumped in, the bottle of rum, empty and lying next to him. He saw the puke, his most likely, on the front of what used to be his Airship Battalion captain’s uniform. Now it was more useful as a blanket as he slumbered in doorways and under branches during the rain.

He still had flashes of the battle. His crew, his comrades some of which were friends, falling off the side of the listing airship. It was his fault. He knew it and he could not forgive himself. He felt forgiveness would disgrace their memory.

Eliana never understood this. She wanted the man she married to come back to her. His body was home but his soul was not. It was in a purgatory of his own making.

When his nightly terror hit him and Eliana tried to sooth him, she never expected the blade. Tensper didn’t realize it was her. To him, she was the enemy. The elf that stabbed him as he tried to save his ship and crew.

In this lowly state, some would call it rock bottom, Tensper saw his path. A way forward to honor Eliana’s memory. To atone for his sin. He realized that the pain he inflicted on himself, the pain created by his mind could be honed to harm others, those that would harm the way he harmed Eliana. He got to work.


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