The Razor's Edge

Like a Tiefling in the Night

Deep in the midst of slumber, when all guests of the inn were in bed, I woke in Abraham’s inn, the sheet soaked in sweat. What was the vile sound that brought me out of such a rest? The sound of a man screaming in agony. I listened intently, straining my ears to hear it again, and replaying the sound over and over in my mind. A frigid thought swept over my body, chilling the sheets against my skin. I had been the one screaming.

In my dreams, the visions that swept over as I closed my eyes, The Lord above had removed his hand of blessing from me. I could see his hand leaving my body, and feel his presence completely fade. The pain and agony of no longer feeling his love at my side was more than I could bear. To know a full and complete love day-in and day-out… and then to have that love ripped out of your heart like someone removing a rusted sword deeply lodged in your chest.

It was in that very moment that I knew I had gone too far. It wasn’t that God had abandoned me. No… I had abandoned Him. I had strayed too far from his teachings, and had tested the limits of his grace one too many times. Now, alone in a foreign land, I am not only feared because of my appearance and bloodline, but I am hated because of my allegiances, and powerless amidst them. If so much as one of them opposed me, I knew that I would be weak and powerless to do anything to stop them from killing me in the most tortuous ways imaginable.

That is the kind of “alone” that I had hoped to never feel again. How did I get so far down this path? How had I let myself trail from God’s grace and mercy to please my own carnal desires of hate, deception and anger?

Forgive me, Father! I have sinned and I beg your forgiveness once more. Take me back and restore your servant to his place in your kingdom, even if it is to scrub the floors, may I be so fortunate.

Then a soft voice echoed once again in my heart. It wasn’t the thunderous voice of Thal Dremar. It wasn’t the sultry voice of Sheliah. It was the soft gentle rebuke of Truesilver, a whisper barely audible above the evening breeze that floated through the nearby window. “Come home, my son. Come home. I will protect you on your journey, and you won’t even have to draw your sword. Just come back to me, my son.”

At that moment, I arose from my bed, placed my armor in my travel bag, and slipped my cloak and hood over my weakened frame. Without even saying goodbye to my fellow travelers I slipped out into the pale moonlight. The road was lonlier than I’ve ever encountered in my life, but I know that they will see me again some day. I will return to them full of wisdom and power.

Just not today.

I’m sorry, my friends. Forgive me, for I am not as I may seem.



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