The Well

The demon slowly extended its left hand in an attempt to draw Bisbee’s eyes to the dagger it held.

“I’ve been sent here to offer you freedom from your misery. Abandon your journey, my friend. Who has joined you in your empty pursuit toward a useless hole in the ground? Your own son called you a coward. You have failed to follow the Great Liar. You promised him that you would never leave Charis and where are you now? In a cave, cowering in fear and despair. Go on, plunge it into your rotten heart and be done with it. The glorious one desires your company.”

Filled with misery, Bisbee could only stare back at Spit-Yak. Submerged of self-pity, the Traveler looked down at the dagger and saw his reflection. He had no energy to object to Spit-Yak’s plan. His association with the Beast was bad enough but seeing its full implication brought the Traveler so low that he saw no way out. Marnin had mention death in the Land; perhaps he would give it to him.

Staring at the ceiling of his tomb, he wondered if the Master even cared. Did Marnin know what he was going through or even where he was? Sensing Bisbee’s pain, Spit-Yak went in for the kill.

“You’re worthless Bisbee, a sorry excuse for a man. Your self-loathing is justified: you have caused all of your own misery. Who knows, maybe through your death, Charis will be saved. You are a pathetic failure, a man who in the end finds himself alone. Even your Precious One isn’t here to help you.”

Spit Yak was telling the truth about one thing. Everything Bisbee had ever done was for himself. His world had always revolved around his own needs and he was finally seeing it for the first time. He had dismissed anyone and anything standing in the way of his desires. Was his journey to Charis not for his deliverance, his victory and his freedom? Was Marnin nothing more to him than a means to an end? Was he a useful tool, bringing about the greatest good for himself? The Traveler found it impossible to refute the creature.

Spit Yak became excited at the suffering of his prey.

Bisbee looked at the demon with empty eyes.

“Do it for me.”

“Why should I have the pleasure of killing you? You caused the pain, it’s only right that you end it. Here, take the blade: you know where your filthy heart beats.”

Reaching out, Bisbee took the dagger from Spit-Yak’s hand. Trembling, he stared into the darkness. His life had been a wasteland of opportunity and battlefield filled with those wounded by his own hand. The world would be a better place without him. Marnin would have one less problem-child.

Seeing that his work was done, Spit-Yak crawled out of the cave and into the night. Mounting the Black Beast, the Creature howled once more at the moon. Spit-Yak had known from the start that he could never lay a hand on one of Marnin’s followers. His plan was to so discourage Bisbee that he would take his own life. Leaving the cave, Spit-Yak never anticipated what would happen next.

Buried in the darkness of the cave, the follower of Marnin made his decision. Still holding the cold blade in his hand, Bisbee felt a shame deeper than the moment that he faced the Beast in the field. He was so sick of himself, so sick of it all. In fact, he was sick enough to go to his own funeral and that is exactly what he did. Bisbee ended it all that night...

but not with the blade of Spit-Yak.