~Sirius~
I thought about running.
Physically running like I did yesterday. But... Korlin is probably following me again anyway. I shouldn't trouble him too much.
And so, I walk. Walk through these foreign streets.
I don't have a particular goal in mind. I just need to get away. So, I trudge on with purposeless steps.
Their eyes linger in the back of my head, mocking and ridiculing me. Korlin said he doesn't look down on me, and maybe that's true, but... I still hate it all the same. Why do I hate it... I'm not sure. It's not like there's animosity in their stares. There's only pity...
Do I really just hate others feeling compassion for me? Or is it because, deep down, I know... No one really cares. It's all surface-level lies, lacking any true emotion.
...
I like to think that I can read people. I can watch their eye movements, their hands, and in turn know what they're thinking. Am I ever right? Probably not.
But it's funny, no matter how kind someone is to me... I always see the opposite. No one is actually interested in me. Their hands, their eyes, their body language... They always tell me that they don't want to be talking to me. They're pitying me.
And I hate it.
But I've never shown it. Until now...
I try to put on a mask and smile for people, but I'm sure they see right through it...
...
Everyone I pass seems so happy. Is that true? Probably not. Everyone wears a mask. Everyone has their own troubles. I'm sure they all have bigger problems than mine.
Memory loss...
I never thought something like that would ever affect me. Especially at this age.
It's strange... I've always wanted my life to change. Every day for the past few years, I've wanted nothing but for something to happen. Something to change.
Regrettably, I've never strived to obtain that change myself. I follow in line. I play by others' expectations. I don't become a burden due to my meaningless wants.
I mean... why should I change? Why would I want to? My life is great, right? Minimal drama, a roof over my head, a family...
Who am I to change?
Be grateful.
Be happy.
...
But now... Everything has changed. Drastically so.
It's what I've wanted for so long. Meeting people, exploring, experiencing new things, learning things that actually interest me...
Gone are the wasted days. Gone are all the expectations placed upon me. Gone is the everlasting feeling of boredom. Gone is the family that I haven't cared about for years. Gone are the people I pretended to call friends...
Gone is that meaningless life.
Here, I can change myself. I can grow. I can make real friends, get into a relationship, and maybe even start a family of my own. Sure, it might be tricky being a "Witch Spawn," but I'm sure I'll overcome that.
I should want to leave my old life behind. I should want those memories to crumple up and burn.
I do want that.
...
So then... why?
Why am I so hung up on forgetting something? Am I scared to forget? I shouldn't be. There's no reason to be.
I hate my past life. I hate the choices I made and continued to make. I hated everything. I hated everyone...
So why?
...
Man, I contradict myself more than anyone...
I can never decide what I want... I'm beyond indecisive.
It's not like I'm alone in this. Korlin is also having his memories taken away. Alzir and the Timekeeper have already had theirs ripped away... Korlin doesn't show it, but I'm certain he's scared. Scared of forgetting something. Or someone.
I sometimes wish that I had something I was scared to lose...
Regardless, I shouldn't feel alone in this. This isn't a problem only put onto me...
You're not special, me.
But then... Why? Why do I feel so alone?
I mean, I like being alone... Being off with my thoughts, like right now... It's liberating. While it's typically negative thoughts... I can think. I don't need to worry about distractions or interruptions. I can think by myself, away from the eyes of others.
I've always done this. I've always felt like this. I've always been alone, too. Though not in a physical sense, mentally. I don't talk to others about my problems, or about anything relating to myself. It's not like anyone would want to hear me blather. I can deal with my thoughts on my own.
I suppose I should call it... loneliness. Maybe that's what I don't like... Maybe.
...
When I was little, I was a star... I had tons of 'friends', I was the best player in every sport I played, I was popular...
I was a happy little kid. Back then, I was interesting. I had talents, I could interact with people easily, I could do anything... I was someone.
Now, I can't even bring myself to cry. I can't feel anything. I'm so out of tune with my emotions, I may as well be a husk. I can't even care about other people, let alone myself.
Korlin, for example, is a great guy. He's fun, funny, his sense of childlike wonder makes me envious... While I can tell he's suppressing something, it doesn't matter, because he's himself. And he's an interesting person.
I'm sure once he learns enough to get himself up on his own feet in this world, he'll leave me behind. A depressing thought, but it's true. Why would he stay? What can I possibly offer him that he can't find someplace else? I keep running anyway. I can't share his sense of joy. It's only natural for him to turn away. He should've done so long ago.
Will I cry when that happens? I don't know. Probably not. But, I do know... It's been fun being around him. I think I've lived more in the past couple of days than in my entire past life. I think I'll treasure this blip of time.
...
Time...
I sometimes get so lost in my thoughts; I forget the immediate problems at hand. Like right now: My time is running out.
What am I even doing?
I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be in this world. But I can't just go off and die... Not after that witch told me to live. I shouldn't waste her efforts.
But in reality, I shouldn't even be alive. I mean... I died. I was killed by my brother. I can't say I know his real reasons, but it doesn't matter. I'll forget anyway, won't I?
I pull out the beating watch in my pocket.
22758064 seconds remain.
A cruel reminder of my fate and ever-escaping time. It's like the watch is laughing at me.
I'll forget everything important to me. Though... I don't even know what is. I'm sure my grandfather was... But he said he wouldn't be important...
Maybe Alzir and Timekeeper are really just messing with me... Maybe I never did have a grandfather... Yeah, it's not real. It's not real. My grandfather...
...
...
No... Who am I kidding?
Of course it's real. They're not messing with me. I did have a grandfather, I'm sure of it.
Stop pretending to lie to yourself.
Stop pretending to be in denial... Even to myself... Who am I trying to kid?
Am I... pretending to act out, as a way to feel more human...?
...
...
Who else have I forgotten? I have a mom, dad, brother... On my mom's side, my grandma died when I was young. What about my dad's side? His mom died before I was born... What about his dad? Why can't I remember either of my grandfathers?
Who else... I had a step mom, that's right. Did she have kids? Who was related to her...? Did I ever know? I can't...
...
Ha... I feel like a detective trying to piece my own life together. I should have paid more attention when I was still alive...
I sigh and stuff the watch back in my pocket.
I take in the city's scenery. It's full of spectacular imagery, with flying beasts and magic-using people. Massive buildings and markets, stores and stalls everywhere you look... This place is rich with culture and history.
It's so vibrant, I can't help but feel a little gray.
I should keep moving. I wonder how far I can get before Korlin gives up on finding me... For his sake, hopefully not too far.
I enter a small park, if you can even call it that. It's about a city-block-sized field of grass with a shallow pond. Some benches and flowers are sprinkled throughout the white and green blades. It's essentially a miniature version of the park where I ran into Korlin.
A large tree drapes its leaves, shading the rippling water. Beneath its veil sits a small bridge, crossing over the pool. A fragmented, stone path leads up to the span.
It's peaceful here... Quiet. A tiny retreat from the town.
The trail's boulders are buried beneath the grass, barely even visible. I start along the path and stare at my feet as I try to stay only on the stones. I guess I'm still a little childish.
...
On the bridge, a figure emerges from the other side.
It's a man of tall stature, robed in a draping garment. It sort of reminds me of a Japanese haori, only more tattered and rugged. Dark cloths underneath define his large chest. The man is incredibly built, his rolled-up silver sleeves reveal massive, veiny forearms.
He holds perfect posture, and his chest is puffed to assert dominance.
Strangely... Even from this distance, I can hear his footsteps. Demanding, imposing footsteps.
He walks with focus. Each step having a purpose.
As if shadowing the man, wailing wind tears through the area. Trees rustle and leaves snap off, blowing far away. Distant wind chimes sing. This gale should muffle my hearing... but...
His footsteps consume my earshot.
They echo in my ears as if we're in an empty cathedral.
Slowly and methodically, he approaches. My body instinctively slows its advance as well. What is this...? I feel... heavier.
As he nears, his facial features come into focus.
He has a mature complexion, maybe middle-aged. He has ashen skin, like a light shade of gray. A chiseled jawline sculpts his face, and a sharp, wrinkled nose sits in its center. Thick, tapered eyebrows sit sternly on his brow ridge.
White, silvery hair is tied into a long ponytail by a red ribbon. Loose strands fall from his hairline and sideburns. The ribbon ends, along his hair, blow violently in the gust.
His presence is daunting. I feel so... small as he approaches. I've never felt so intimidated.
Especially when I look at them...
His eyes.
Sunken, sharp and tired eyes. Dark circles shade his eyelids, swallowing his stare in shadow. He even makes my own eye wrinkles feel insignificant... This man has been through hell. And now it follows.
His irises.
Blood red. A damp, deep crimson caterwauling with savagery, masking tiny, black-slitted pupils.
Their color is unsettling, sure, but it's the mien within them that's disturbing.
I only catch a glimpse, then pull away. Our eyes don't meet. I don't want them to. He holds a scornful, unwavering stare straight in front of him.
My legs keep marching. I should stop. I should turn back. Why am I still walking toward him? My footsteps pale in comparison to his. It feels like at any moment, one of his steps could split the planet in two.
Is time moving slower-? My eyes follow the dirt beneath my feet. I don't hang my head in fear that it might offend him.
He fully crosses the bridge and reaches me at armlength distance. Each step he takes sounds like it could shatter my eardrums. I can't hear anything else. My mind is unable to think.
I don't think he wants me to.
With a final footstep, our shoulders are practically connect. And then, a shockwave explodes in my ears.
My body locks in place, chaining itself in place. I can't move. My ears feel like they're going to bleed. It hurts.
Skull-crushing pressure weighs down on my skin. It's as if I've entered an atmosphere with ten times the force of gravity. I can't even lift a finger. I'm completely paralyzed. It's a miracle I'm still standing.
What the hell? What is this? What did he do?
The sky is a swirling shade of purple. It wasn't like this a second ago. Did he transport me into a separate space-? But we're still in the park... It's all so dark...
Every part of my body is still. I can't even blink. I slowly, unsteadily bring my eyes to the man's face.
He's not even looking at me... What is he...
Louder than a whisper, softer than a scream, the man speaks...
"Witch Spawn."
The two words reach my ears in that of distortion. The man's voice is deep and desolate, his words ring like a haunting choir. They purl a sound wave of supremacy, shrinking me into myself.
A frigid chill crashes into my body. Goosebumps ripple up my arms, easily visible due to my missing sleeve. The icy sensation reaches my chest and seeps into my still heart. It feels like a glacial tidal wave is cascading over me. I feel sick. I want to throw up... But not even my insides can move.
My blood cells feel like bullets. They're not circulating, are they? I feel my throat against my neck. My bones feel like steel grinding against my muscles. It hurts. It hurts...
I can't open my mouth. My lips are sealed tighter than particles. My tongue feels like a rock in my mouth. It's all so heavy.
"Death hangs high above you. Your sins cloud you, corpse-breed. Making you all the easier to find."
Still, he stares forward. He's etching his words straight into my soul.
"You... do not belong here."
...
"You are a plague upon this dying world."
Dying world? What is he talking about? Does he not feel this gravity?
Somehow, his body is unaffected by this force. The grass, the leaves, my clothes... Everything in the immediate area is weighed down and still. Except for him. His clothes, hair, and body are all unrestricted.
Who is this man? What is this overwhelming presence?
All I can do is look up in horror. All I can do is look into his cold, crimson eyes.
...
Until he looks right back into mine.
...
He doesn't move his head in the slightest. His eyes simply roll into place, piercing straight into my soul.
And all at once, everything smashes into me.
His gaze stabs into my eyes, thrashing them over and over. It feels like a knife is sawing into my skull, tearing my open eyelids into shreds. If this feeling were physical, I would be blind.
Insurmountable pain injects itself into my head, igniting imaginary hellfire in my brain. This agony travels through my veins, squeezing my body in a tormenting vise.
His eyes pierce my body, mind, and soul, peering into my past and failures. All my sins coalesce into this man's stare, reflecting back to me tenfold. Every wrongdoing, every mishap, every wish for a better life... All of it skewers into my eyes.
A dominance of presence so powerful it ruptures my very being, breaking and rebuilding me simultaneously. Gravity crushes, but this man's stare carries a thousand times the force.
His eyes tell me to end my pitiful life. They make me feel indescribably small, crushing me beneath the weight of a single optic nerve.
I'm frozen, shaking, screaming, silent, begging, and accepting all at once.
Recently, I've felt a lot of fear...
An emotion that I thought I'd abandoned crept its way back into my life. When I was dying. When I was digging myself out of the ground. When I found out my memories were disappearing... All frightening experiences.
But none of those compares to this. None of those compares to what I feel at this moment.
This is fear. All-encompassing, primal fear.
I hate when people look at me. I despise it. It always feels like they're belittling me... Pitying me.
But his eyes hold something different.
I don't get pity when looking into them. I don't get judgment. I don't get seen.
What I get is a raw, ravenous instinct embedded in my blood...
The fear of death.
A desire for survival, fearing the loss of life.
In the next second of our eyes' meeting, another shockwave shatters my eardrums.
The pelting force of gravity grows somehow stronger, buckling my knees. I can hardly stand. I can't even shake out of fear.
It's like I'm being pinned down by that truck again. No, this is worse. It's suffocating my airways and crushing my fragile bones. I hear crunching in my ears.
Wait a minute...
I'm not breathing.
I feel the whites of my eyes bleeding red. My throat is constricting as if a python is wrapping itself around it. My head splits with sharp pain. Is my brain bleeding...?
I can't look away. Our eyes are locked in a horrific staring contest. I plead with my eyes to the demon, but he doesn't blink. Is he reading me?
"You wouldn't happen to be an Apostle of Err? Would you?"
I can't comprehend what he's saying. There's no way I could even answer.
"No... you shoulder far too much envy."
Envy...? Of what?
I don't know. Please stop it.
It hurts.
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"Then, do you know the location of Vitus?"
I don't know who that is. Please... stop. I'm going to die.
"..."
He reads the river of regret in my eyes and finds nothing of value.
His eyelids fold tightly together in frustrating acceptance. A raging river is about to explode from this man, and I'm not sure if I'll be able to withstand it.
I'm powerless, completely helpless...
He prepares to hammer the final nail in my coffin. His eyebrows furrow, and he bends his face into one of unrestrained loathing. The whites of his eyes enlarge as he whispers the ghastly words.
"You died for a reason. You should never have been reborn."
...
...
He's right.
My life should have ended. It should have a long time ago.
Who do I think I am...?
My knees give out, and I crumble to the stones. We don't break eye contact. My bloodshot eyes only continue to fuel his disgust.
We stare at each other, his glare overpowering my entire existence. This hierarchy is already more than established. I'm the lowest of the low. And this man sees right through me.
There is no pity in his eyes. No concern for my well-being. Only unrivaled rage and hatred. I've never met this man in my life, and yet he despises me so deeply.
I can't say I blame him. I only wish I knew why. So I knew which part of me to blame.
...
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the man's gaze lifts away from me and back forward.
His narrow eyes widen in concern, but quickly retreat back, becoming frustrated. He uncurls his closed fist, and with it, the enormous pressure lifts off of me.
I've never felt lighter in my life.
I collapse into the dirt and begin to breathe. I rapidly intake as many breaths as possible, coughing and vomiting blood. I stain the once-green grass red.
My mind is melted, completely mangled into a metaphoric mush. Reality is hardly within my grasp of understanding. The sky is back to being blue... I think. I can't tell. It hurts. It hurts.
The man begins walking off, his footsteps much lighter than before.
He makes his way back from where he came, across the bridge. He's leaving... just like that... I hardly have it in me to notice, or possibly care about anything else. I can only focus on myself.
It hurts so much more now that the pressure is gone. Is this decompression sickness?
I curl into a ball, lying sideways in my own blood.
It's stabbing... It stings far worse than being run over. But it seems like my body is all intact. Are my organs damaged? I can't tell. I don't know. I don't understand a thing.
Did that man use magic? He had to of. There's nothing else in this world that can cause this much pain.
I need to scream. The agony is overflowing. But I'm too scared to open my mouth.
After many minutes, I catch my breath.
I stagger to sit up and slowly regain my composure. It feels like my head is splitting apart.
I look in the direction that man did before walking away. No one is there except a slender man with light purple hair. He's dressed in loose armor with an intricate sword hanging from his hip. A knight, maybe?
Was that man scared of him? Surely not.
The knight is preoccupied with what appears to be a child in front of him. I could ask for his help, but it's probably best not to bother him. No one would believe me. Was any of that even real-? This pain tells me that it is. But how am I to be certain...
But one thing is for certain...
I need to get out of here.
I try to stand, but my legs don't seem to respond. They're shaking. My whole body is.
Tears threaten to fall, but even they are scared to.
I can't control myself at all.
I'm terrified...
I've never experienced fear like this before...
This world... is horrifying.
I'm... not supposed to be here.
I can't handle something like this. I'm far too weak.
I can't stay here...
That man was right...
I don't belong here.