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I need something heavy.
Those were the only words going through noms head as he stood atop the high mountain, staring coldly at the kingdom below. The kingdom that had–in a way–failed him. The kingdom that had–in the past–caused him to make an oath he was bound to break.
He stared at the sword in his hands as the words rang across his head, spiraling him into a phsycosis. It was the only thing he could hear right now. The only thing he wanted to hear right now.
He threw all his weapons onto the statue, its stone eyes staring down on him, as if knowing what he was about to do. The clanks echoed across the cracked podium it stood on, radiating to his ears. He could feel it, the voices in the back of his head. One telling him to do it do it do it, and the other telling him he was about to make a grave mistake, one he was going to regret for a very long time.
Unfortunately, the former was much louder.
In a trance, nom slowly started edging towards the highest tree on the mountain, his hands finding their way to his shovel, grasping it tightly. The second voice started to scream louder, begging him to stop, pleading that it would only bring harm and regret.
He shook his head. No. He was going to show them. Show all his enemies who he truly was, what he truly did. Show them his bloodied hands. But instead of carrying a boring, light sword, he was going to carry something much, much worse.
His eyes continued to stare at the patch of land that sat below the tree, hands clenching his shovel lightly in an attempt to ground him and bring him back to reality. The attempt was futile, however, as he had no more intentions to hold back anymore. Holding back is what brought him in this mess in the first place, wasnt it?
But were there really no intentions?
There was Katie: his sister, the person he left inside that cave with a heavy heart, one devoid of any sibling love, only pure and utter hate. She would okay with it right? She would want him to go with his oath, to destroy his enemy kingdom (her home). She would... She had to. Or else, he would cause a much larger rift to seperate them once again, and he just couldn't do that.
There was 4C: his younger brother-figure. The person he risked everything to save, the person he helped fight his traumas. The slime was very important to him, not as important as Katie, but important enough to be considered in the equation of Noms slow self-destruction.
There was Scott. His best friend, one of the only people that trusted him fully. One of the only people he wanted to tell the truth to, but was scared he would ruin everything they had. He feels like Scott wouldn't like the idea of bringing down so many people just because one person wronged him, but they deserved it.
He paused, finally back into reality. The second voice had finally got through to him, and now he was standing idly.
Like a coward.
Nom didn't want to be a coward, he was one of the best knights after all. Knights would cheer his name after coming back from another mission (what wonderful memories). He has wielded his weapon countless times before. Enough times for him to pick it up like second nature.
So why was he struggling now? Why was his heart beating so fast just thinking of the idea of holding it again? It would make him stronger, more powerful, being able to make his enemies bend their knees in due time. It was as easy as it was to hold his sword.
He hung his head down, staring at the shovel in his hands. It was waiting for him. Waiting for him to finally do it, finally show them.
But he knew the rational part of his brain just wouldn't allow it.
It was in his character to have the drive to protect others, he was meant to save people, not kill them. The old monarch broke his principles for him to go on that mission, and now his morals were in the trenches. It was completely out of his control. Either be a villian, or be a villian, there was no other option.
He shoved those thoughts into the back of his head once again and quickly started digging. His body tensing everytime he picked up another piece of moss. His body was working faster than his mind, quickly exceeding any logical thought that grazed him. He needed to wield it. Wield the one thing that made him worth something.
As his shovel hit something solid, his body tensed yet again. Only, much harder this time. Not from the vibrations of the diamond shovel hitting it's surface, no, it was much deeper in his bones and mind. He stayed there for a while, so long that the sun moved a considerable amount of distance on the horizon.
He finally got his kind in the right place. His heart racing even faster than it previously was already, causing his chest to start hurting a little. He dropped the shovel into the dirt, taking one of his hands and clenching it towards his chest in both pain and shame.
Falling to his knees, he braked himself with his free hand, letting him hang in the air for a small period of time. He knew it wasnt a lot, but certainly enough to make him contemplate what he was just about to do.
He almost took out his weapon. The one thing that ruined his life, the one thing that made him have such a strained relationship with katie (that he caused). He was about to take it and kill someone. He vowed to never pick his weapon up again.
He was about to break her another oath.
Oathbreaker.
That word rang in his ears constantly like molasses, sliding into the crevasses of his brain and making him do... Irrational things.
No, he wouldn't do it.
Not again.
For it would bring him pure regret.