Lesh had spent decades in this forest. He walked out every now and then but the infinite fields and rivers disappearing in the horizon weren’t to his taste. He liked being in a familiar place and he was too old to learn any new ones now.

He knew the trees and greeted them by name when he walked by. He knew which of them had been used by bandits to hang a merchant. He knew where the grass will never get to grow because the czar’s men marched through there. He knew the thorn bushes that could scar an armored man. And he knew the chasm where even a scream got lost.

He knew the forest and he knew the limits of men. Lords and peasants alike broke when he pulled the strings of their fear. But those two burned smoking holes in the face of that man, they were something new even to Lesh.

He knelt in front of the blinded soldier. No, not a soldier anymore - a king. A king who took his own sight. The old man had seen blinded people before, a gruesome sight. The imperials often took the sight of captured soldiers and sent them back to their lords. A worse fate than death. Young strong men who can’t look after themselves are not wanted in any city.

No, death was not the worst thing to happen to a man. He looked at the soldier in the mud and his bloody toothless face. They all fear death so much but isn’t the one in the mud better than the one left to rule?

“Who’s there?” - the king said.

“Only a loyal servant, my lord.” - Lesh replied, snickering.

“What do you want? How long you’ve been here?” - the big man spoke like a true ruler.

“Only to pay my respects…” - Lesh continued after he smothered a fit of laughter.

He stared at the man in amazement unable to believe that he didn’t kill himself. He had just killed his only remaining friend, surrounded by the corpses of the only people who could show him any kind of understanding. The scars of war rendering him unable to show love. Yet he didn’t take his life. He only blinds himself to make it more bearable. He still wants to live.

That’s absurd.