(...)

Lyssindra grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the fight, her strength surprising. She was urging us to flee, but I hesitated, watching the abomination stagger for a moment, as if struggling under its own weight. A twisted hope flickered in my chest. I needed to see it fall. I needed that one victory, to make this chaos — this nightmare — worth something.

Just this one win. Please.

The abomination paused, as if taking a deep, shuddering breath, readying itself for something greater.

‘GET DOWN!’, Lyssindra’s voice cut through the din, and she shoved me into the foliage just as a deafening boom erupted from the monstrosity. A shockwave tore through the forest, the heat searing my skin even as I lay half-buried in dirt and leaves. The blast knocked the wind out of me, leaving only a high-pitched ringing in my ears.

When I finally managed to sit up, dazed but otherwise unharmed, the sight around me was haunting: Glowing ash drifted through the air like snow, settling on the smoldering remains of the battlefield. Where there had once been a dense forest, there were now only scorched trees and bodies — or what was left of them. The elves, the abominations, all reduced to twisted, charred remains.

I blinked, trying to clear the dust from my eyes, when I saw Lyssindra nearby, half-buried beneath debris and ash. She wasn’t moving, I noticed, and my heart seized. Scrambling to my feet, I stumbled over to her, my limbs aching from the blast. She was breathing, but barely. Her body was battered, burns covering her arms and legs, blood seeping from many wounds.

One might say that I should have followed Boga and Leslie, who were already fleeing from the carnage, but something inside me rebelled at the thought of leaving her there, broken and alone. The corruption stirred in the back of my mind, whispering, ‘Let her depart, as the others before. She is already forlorne’.

My head throbbed, the voices pressing harder. I grabbed my temples, fighting the urge to scream. The corruption wanted me to leave her behind, to turn away and save myself, but I wouldn’t. Not after what she’d done. I wasn’t keen on trading another’s life for mine, again.

‘Not… leaving her’, I growled through gritted teeth. With a surge of effort, I lifted Lyssindra into my arms. Either she was light, or I was numb — all I knew was I’d carry her across the forest, if need be; and the irony was not lost on me — that a mere two days ago, if I had to pick one member of our company to abandon, it would have been her.

In hindsight, this brief brush with corruption taught me much about its true nature — it could perhaps be described as some form of pure, aimless hatred. When corruption gripped me, I was filled with nothing but overwhelming hate, and the deepest loathing I felt was for myself. I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I was beyond redemption, and I despised every atom of my being. But I also hated the corruption itself, how it played its shadow game in the theater of my thoughts. So, I used that hatred to resist the trap — and fuel my defiance. I wouldn’t let her die. Not there, not anywhere. And this defiance, I’d uphold it with my dying breath.

(...)

[excerpt from the journal of Mordamir]