[ WP ] You are a `` hero '' in a fantasy world , but as you `` adventure '' , you are slowly realizing YOU are the antagonist .

The battlement atop the central spire was large enough for fifteen of the City Guard but tonight only two men slowly circled one another. Tall, proud and strong stood Rettem, long the Queens faithful servant. Slight, balding and shivering stood Oldfather Hakken, once a great hero of the realm, now long in years. His hands shook as he held the crossbow to Rettem's chest. 
 
 `` RETTEM, You are BOUND by the QUEENS NAME! Your actions must be explained if there is to be any hope of mercy! Put up your sword, your tale need not end here.'' The lashing wind made it difficult to keep his rheumy eyes focused. Rettem seemed distant. Confused. His clothes still dripped with unnoticed blood and ichor. His hands were crimson. Rettem continued to pace the battlement, looking outwards, downwards. He took a breath and turned. 
 
 `` Explain my actions, Hakken? Did I need to explain my actions when I slew the Chimera of Thannis? Did I need to beg mercy of Kal'ma're before I broke her foul hold over these lands? No, for I am Rettem, hero of the realm and I need not explain myself to anyone!'' His words were delivered with vigor but also a confusion, as if he were trying to convince himself of their truth. 
 
 `` Your great deeds have not brought us to this tower, Rettem!'' The dark wood of the crossbow was heavy and the wind continued to howl. `` Your mind has grown dark! I know not if it is some bewitchment or the toll of battle but it is evil! Come below with me so that justice might be done.'' The wind died down as Hakken delivered his ultimatum. A sudden spark of clarity played across Rettem's face but was quickly replaced by a look of confusion and horror. 
 
 `` Oldfather... I..I do n't understand,'' he looked upon his bloodied hands as if seeing them for the first time, `` What blood is this? Has their been a battle?'' 
 
 `` There has been no battle, Rettem! Put up your sword, NOW! You have struck out at all around you! Dozens have fallen to your blade today, all good and fine people with no evil in their hearts! Your deeds are foul and I am all that is left to stop you. Now come below....I will not ask again.'' 
 
 `` I'm... I'm a hero,'' he seemed to be saying to himself, `` it is not within me to act unjustly. It is with my life that I defend the innocent. I lift up the pitiful and strike down the tyrant. It is all that I am. All I've ever wanted to be.'' Shafts of moonlight played across the battlements. 
 
 `` You were no hero this day. You may give thanks to the Nine Peaks that your wife was strong enough to save Kyra from your wild rage. I am told she died calling your name. Is that your justice? I give you this last chance so that this red day might close without more death. Please Rettem. Please.'' Hakken's tone had gone from commanding to pleading. His arms screamed from the strain of holding the crossbow aloft. 
 
 Rettem seemed shaken as the meaning of Hakkens words set in. `` I do n't... I would never strike out at Liona. I remember going to her home today, now that my southward quest was concluded, so that I might take wine and see my daughter. I remember... cross words. I remember....'' Horrible realization filled his eyes and Hakken knew his mind was clearing. Rettem turned his back to Hakken, once again looking out over the kingdom, now bathed in milky sheen of a harvest moon.This would be his only chance. 
 
 Inching forward, thinking only of the enchanted manacles that hung from his belt, Hakken approached. If he could only get a bit closer, he could speak the bonding words and the Hero of Bella's Tear would be safe enough for an old man to handle. Closer. 
 
 `` I killed her,'' Rettem seemed to speak to no one in particular. `` I struck her down, she who was my wife. What has become of me? Of us? When did I become a villain?'' 
 
 Almost close enough, Hakken began to whisper the binding spell but was interrupted. 
 
 `` I still have my ears, OldFather, and your days of silent approach are long behind you.'' Rettem said almost casually. Hakken froze in place. Rettem turned, towering over the hunched old man now only a few feet from him, still with crossbow firmly gripped in his weathered hands. 
 
 `` I still have my blade as well, Hakken. The same sword that split the Stone of Cloa. Let us end this as it should have ended... long ago.'' Rettem spoke clearly and confidently. Hakken watched as Rettem's hand slowly went towards his scabbard. 
 
 `` You must not,'' Hakken begged `` You saved my life once, when the Vile Prince sundered our crops. You gave my family all we needed to live until you could reverse the spell! We owe you everything! Please!'' 
 
 `` I'm very fast, Hakken. Surely you've heard the tale of my battle with the Storm Of Steel? You must loose your bolt, or I will draw this blade and surely kill you.'' Rettem eyes glimmered, `` Loose your bolt and collect the Queen's bounty on me,'' tears streamed down his face, `` then please, if you wish to honor me, protect my daughter. It is the one duty I have failed.'' 
 
 `` Rettem... no, please'' his hands were shaking very hard now, `` Please, you've saved us all from so much evil, so much darkness. Please..'' 
 
 `` I do that duty one final time,'' with a flash Rettem's hand was on his blade and the shimmering steel seemed to appear from nowhere. Hakken closed his eyes and loosed the bolt. 
 
 When Hakken opened his eyes, he looked down to see the Sword of Glory at his throat, a hair from separating his head from age bowed shoulders, frozen in place. 
 
 `` I told you my friend,'' Rettem sputtered as blood ran from his mouth and down over the fletching of the crossbow bolt protruding from his chest. `` I'm very fast.'' With a last, small smile Rettem tumbled backwards off the tower and fell to the distant flagstones below. 
 
 Hakken threw down the crossbow with disgust and fell to his knees, weeping. There were those who would call him hero for what he did this day. He would never be among them. 
 
 edit: bit of cleanup and some word choice.
