77. Dimitri
77
DIMITRI
D imitri watched Aedon go, wishing that he could leave, too—truly, without the leash of his master tugging him back. You are a fool, Dimitri , he berated himself. His eyes shut momentarily as he tried to swallow the guilt as best as he could once more, for it stabbed at him like a knife twisting in his gut. How many had already died because he had been foolish enough to raise Saradon? He could never undo that. Never make it right.
As he stood before the creaking, shattered gates of Afnirheim, watching a straggling line of dwarves flee—though he stood shrouded from them—his spirits sank. This was not what he had envisioned. A kingdom destroyed and overrun with barbaric creatures that had not one decent bone amongst them. Could he stop more dying if he stood against Saradon? Or had this grown so much bigger than him that that was a futile hope?
He had no idea if Aedon and his companions would survive their flight to Keldheim or another sanctuary, but his word to Harper was complete. He had helped them as best he could. His conscience was clear on that matter. It was a small comfort in the face of such far-reaching horrors. He knew now with unshakeable certainty, that there was no room for cowardice— and he would rise to the challenge. Harper had given him the courage to do so, however hopeless it was to think he could stop this.
Slowly, Dimitri slunk back into the mountain, going the opposite way of the fleeing dwarves. Any goblins he met along the way, he killed to allow as many of the dwarves to escape as possible.
The end begins now. I started this… I must finish it.