Once a Hero…

“Don’t you remember the stories?” I asked, standing on the streets, repeatedly until I culled every answer I could grasp.

“Injustice,” I spat to the floor, “The Gods will have justice for what you did to the white one,” I shouted. I grabbed a woman in passing, “Spread the word,” I released her hand and continued, “You all birthed a monster, a fucking monster!” I sipped the whiskey stirring in my old drinking horn– the one he gave me.

“Dancing pricks, and whoresons everywhere,” I paused, “Have you no fucking shame of what you lot did?”

“Fuck off!” A guard pushed me back, hesitating a glance at his sword.

“Not until we have justice for him,” I stood up to the guard full of liquid courage, “I bet you were one of them, those whoresons who bloodied his hands, who ruined his good name, who set us on this path of revenge killings,” I spat at the floor again.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, you old fool, now clear off before I kill you,” the guard said, and I remember those words because my sober self would have fled, but was not he.

“Are you going to kill me now, too?” I laughed, brisking my little finger over the line of madness. I must have been, “he’s still alive, you know.”

The guard pushed me against the wall of the hall, “Quiet your fucking tongue…” he paused, gulping. I was now in control, “What the fuck do you mean? We saw the blood everywhere, his cloak in tatters, with over sixty holes in.”

I smiled, “Did you see a body?” I pushed him away and he let me, “He knew what he was doing. Do you have any idea who you were all fooling around with?” I walked forward and the guard watched while he must have been thinking back, “These priests, and these Christians come here talking about devils and sorcery, but you took everything away from a hero, and the bigger the hero, the bigger the monster within!”

Some people spat, but a crowd started gathering, “So, repent, for I’ve seen his eyes, and they glow in the dark. They shine in the night like a wolf’s. I’ve seen him stand alone against numbers more numerous than this mere gathering and stand victorious… I’ve seen him fight through an army for a mere woman,” I raised my hands and pointed at the people around me, “What the fuck do you think he’ll do to all of you now that he has nothing to hold back from, nothing to make him good. You wanted something to fear in the night and you gave birth to it!”

The guard stormed away. He took off his sheathed sword and untied his belt. He unbuttoned his tunic, perhaps he was quitting. “He protected us from a usurper, a monstrous king who urged monstrous ways and look what you did to him, exiled him, sullied his name, destroyed his reputation, and gave him up to that son of a Völva… and now that King is dead… and who do you have now? No-one, and soon… you’ll have nothing.”