The road was wet. It was always wet in the north. I walked it again. My boots were old. The leather had cracked. It held. I carried the shield. It was heavy. It was iron. It was mine. I walked for days. The rain did not stop. I did not stop. I am a soldier. I have no name. I have a shield. That is enough.

I reached the keep. The stones were cold. The gate was open. I entered. The hall was dark. The air smelled of rot. And of old blood. I walked to the center. I stood there. I waited.

"You are late."

The voice came from the shadows. It was soft. It was cruel. I turned. He sat on the throne. It was made of bone. White. Yellow. It looked like teeth.

"I am not late," I said. My voice was rough. "I am here."

"Time is a loop," he said. He smiled. It was not a smile. It was a tear. "You have been here before. You will be here again. Sit."

I did not sit. I held the shield. My arm trembled. "Why?"

"Because you must pay."

"Pay what?"

"The debt."

I looked at the shield. The crest was faded. A lion. It had no eyes. I had polished it for years. The metal was dull now. I had forgotten how to shine it. I had forgotten how to breathe.

"I am tired," I said.

"Tiredness is a privilege," he said. "You have had it for centuries. Take it back."

He stood. He was tall. He was thin. His face was smooth. He had no scars. I had many. He walked down the steps. The stones did not echo. The silence was loud.

"Give me the shield," he said.

"No."

"Then give me your name."

"I have no name."

"Then give me your life."

I laughed. It was a dry sound. Like leaves. "You have my life. You have it always. I am yours. I have always been yours."

He stopped. He looked at me. His eyes were black. They were deep. I saw my own face in them. But it was older. It was sadder. It was me.

"You misunderstand," I said. "I am not your servant. I am your mirror. I reflect your cruelty. I carry your weight. I am the alibi. I say I did it. So you do not have to."

He tilted his head. "And what do you want?"

"I want to stop."

"You cannot stop. The cycle is closed. You are the stone in the mill. You turn. You grind. You turn. You grind. There is no exit."

"There is always an exit."

"Not here. Not in this house. Not for you."

I stepped forward. I raised the shield. The iron clanged. It was a single note. It hung in the air.

"Then I will break it," I said.

"Break what?"

"Your lie."

He laughed. It was a low sound. It shook the walls. "You cannot break a truth. A truth is like water. It flows. It fills. It drowns. You are drowning. Have you not noticed?"

I looked at my hands. They were red. The blood was dry. It was crusty. It was part of me. I had bled for so long. I had forgotten the feeling of skin. I only knew the pain.

"I am not drowning," I said. "I am floating. I have been floating for a long time. I am going to sink."

He frowned. "Sinking is death. You do not want death. You want oblivion. You want to cease. But you cannot cease. You are eternal."

"Eternity is a cage," I said.

"Or a garden," he said. "It depends on how you see it. You see bars. I see light. You see walls. I see protection. You are blind. You have been blind since the first day. Since you took the shield."

I remembered. The first day. I was young. I was strong. I was brave. I took the shield. I thought I was protecting the kingdom. I thought I was a hero. I was wrong. I was a tool. I was a wall. I was the thing that kept the dark out. But the dark was inside. The dark was in the throne. The dark was in him.

"I was wrong," I said.

"Yes," he said. "You were always wrong. That is why you are here. To learn. To suffer. To understand. And then to do it again. And again. And again."

"I will not do it again."

"You will."

"I will not."

He walked closer. He was close now. I could smell him. He smelled of rain. And of iron. And of time.

"Look at me," he said.

I looked. I saw his face. I saw my face. It was the same. But it was older. It was wiser. It was kinder. It was sad. It was me. In the future. Or in the past. It did not matter.

"You are me," I said.

"I am what you will become," he said. "If you continue. If you fight. If you resist. If you hold on to the shield. If you hold on to the anger. If you hold on to the hate."

"I am not angry," I said.

"Are you not?"

"I am tired."

"Tiredness is anger," he said. "It is a slow anger. It is a cold anger. It is the anger of the stone. It is the anger of the earth. It is the anger that never goes away. It only grows. It only hardens. Until it becomes you."

I looked at the shield. The lion had no eyes. I saw them now. They were open. They were wide. They were afraid.

"I will put it down," I said.

"Can you?"

"Yes."

"Put it down."

I looked at him. I looked at the shield. I looked at the floor. The floor was stone. It was cold. It was hard. I lowered my arm. The shield fell.

It did not clang. It made a soft sound. Like a sigh. Like a breath. It lay on the ground. It was still. It was quiet.

I felt light. I felt empty. I felt nothing.

He smiled. It was a real smile. It was small. It was sad.

"You have broken the cycle," he said.

"No," I said. "I have not. I have only changed it. I am still here. I am still me. I am still tired."

"Yes," he said. "You are still tired. But you are no longer angry. You have accepted the defeat. You have accepted the time. You have accepted the end."

"Is there an end?"

"Only for this version of you. The next one will come. And he will be angry. And he will fight. And he will break. And he will come here. And he will put down the shield. And he will sit. And he will wait. And he will go. And the next one will come. And the next. And the next. It is a river. It flows. It does not stop. It only changes shape."

I sat on the floor. The stone was cold. It seeped into my bones. I closed my eyes. I breathed. The air was clean. It smelled of rain.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"I am the keeper," he said. "I am the gate. I am the lock. I am the key. I am the one who waits. I am the one who remembers. I am the one who loves you. In a way. In a distance. In a silence."

"Love?"

"Devotion," he said. "Obsessive. Blind. Unwavering. I love you because you are mine. You are my reflection. You are my shadow. You are my alibi. I did it. You did it. We did it together. And we will do it again."

I opened my eyes. The room was dark. The throne was empty. He was gone. Only the shield remained. It lay on the ground. The lion had eyes. They were closed. They were peaceful.

I picked it up. It was light. It was warm. It was mine.

I stood. I walked to the door. I opened it. The rain was falling. It was soft. It was gentle. It washed the dust from my face. It washed the blood from my hands. It washed the anger from my soul.

I walked out. I walked into the night. I walked into the dark. I walked into the rain.

I did not look back.

I did not stop.

I walked.

And I walked.

And I walked.

The road was long. The road was wet. The road was mine.

I carried the shield. I carried the weight. I carried the time.

I was the soldier. I was the stone. I was the mirror.

I was the alibi.

I was the truth.

I was the end.

And the beginning.

And the middle.

And the silence.

I walked on.