The Red Mountain.
A short musing piece from Howitz's files written to try and explain something of how he works that no-one seems to quite understand. This was written in the hopes that eventually someone who finds it might.
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In my mindscape, deep down where even the appearance of normal reality gives way to structures floating in the void, the main marker you navigate by is a mountain. Rocks and pebbles of all colours are visible on its surface, but mostly the earth is red, the kind of reddish brown you see in Australia.
Most people do not go close, but if you do, the mountain starts to look like a scrapheap. There are armour and weapons thrown on it half buried, scraps of cloth and brightly polished metal. Most people's eyes refuse to recognise what they are seeing until they are close enough to realise that the 'pebbles' are head sized and the overall appearance of red is from blood, burns, and non-human skin.
Perhaps their eyes refuse to recognise it as a heap of bodies because it is not grisly. It feels utterly neutral, there is no emotion attached, it simply exists.
This is the record of the people who I killed, directly or indirectly.
It is no monument to Glory, I do not take pride in it. Nor is it a source of guilt or tragedy, though there are bodies within that pile I will weep over not having been able to save. It does give perspective to the power I wield and the life I have led, but that is not the point of it. I fight only to protect, I am still the man you all know, no hidden side to my nature shown by this.
Those who see the mountain for what it is misunderstand, they think that I carry their weight and try to reassure me, try to ease guilt that isn't there, or think I am looking for sympathy. They do not seem to understand.
I am a priest of the God of Life and Death and part of my job is to remember and care for the dead. It is only right that I remember those who have fallen by my hand, if I do not take responsibility for remembering them, then who will? And who should?
It is a marker, no more, no less.
I remember.
-Howitzer Voltanis Elderwood.