Beckett turns to leave with Marsh.
"Marsh is right. I've kept my word. Time to get out of this pit"
His step falters, and his eyes grow distant.
That visage. Why?
Beckett knew that the Dawnflower was with him. His abilities were proof of that. But, never before had he received a direct visage from her. Now he had, and that visage was linked to the first man he had killed. Not surprising. But he had expected a visage of glory and victory. Instead he received fear and regret.
”Why?”
He could leave. He was free. He could honestly tell Lord Bromathan that the task was done. But... There was something else going on here. He needed to know.
"I need to know why.” Beckett breathed softly.
Looking up at Marsh.
“I used to be like you son," Karl had said, "a long time ago and in a different place, but my sword has been riding heavier as of late and no longer sings in my hands.”
I thought he was wrong.
”The dawn reminds us each day that there are new beginnings for all of us. That there is redemption on the other side of darkness… That we can take joy in the light and despite whatever situation we find beneath our feet...the sky promises deliverance.” Lord Bromathan’s words still rang through his mind.
”You’re right, you know.”
Beckett's smile doesn't touch his eyes.
”We are alike, after all.”
Beckett pauses, looking at the floor, considering.
”I died. Years ago. In a fine mansion. Everything was taken from me. And I was... changed.”
Beckett looks up again and shrugs.
“I just haven't stopped moving yet.”
The Inquisitor’s stands up straighter. His eyes taking on an intensity, but his voice soft.
”You died too. Didn't you. Everything taken. Everything changed.”
Beckett’s face gleams, staring into Karl’s eyes... searching...
”But you are still fighting to live. Why? The woman... Link here..." Beckett gestures to the halfling. "Losing them terrifies you.” He cocks his head in puzzlement. ”Why? A dead man should know no fear.”
”Yes." Beckett nods. "That is why you are in so much pain, my friend. You are neither dead nor alive.”
Looking thoughtful, Beckett repeats some words slowly, with no melody, considering each one in turn.
"One man's story is another man's shame
I ain't bound for glory, I'm bound for flames
Take to the woods boy, and cover up your tracks
Go away child and don't look back"
Beckett's gaze returns to Marsh, his face filled with honest puzzlement.
"Why do you look back?”
"It is of no difference to me, my friend. But... why live in these two worlds? Life and death? If you are alive... go be happy. Free your lass and live a life filled with joy.”
The intensity returns to Beckett eyes.
”But if you are dead... truly dead... then let them go. Let it all go... Be free at last.”
Beckett takes a small step toward Marsh, standing close, almost whispering in his ear.
”I am going with them. There is something I need to learn.”
The Inquistor glances back at the group, then returns his attention to Karl.
”Is there anything you need to learn?”
