'It's kind of ironic how the one time I've been acknowledged as a part of this family is when I'm on a guillotine's platform.'
"Cain Ve Arencia. For the crime of betraying, threatening the crown and endangering the civilians. By the twenty-fourth law of the Arencian kingdom, you're fated to die by getting executed here today in front of all its people..."
"Die!", people shouted.
"Chop off his head!"
"You murderer!"
"Monster!"
'Fate, huh. How I hate that word.'
Cain didn't truly care about what the priest in front of him or the crowds down there had to say. His eyes were only on one person sitting in another, higher platform, across from the one he was chained on, looking down at him.
The sun of the kingdom, Arthur Ve Arencia. 'Father.'
There wasn't truly anything special about his story. The illegitimate child of a king, the spawn of a mere concubine.
He remembers the stories the maids in the palace used to say.
They were rather in the first breaths he didn't take. Cain was born small. Too small. Too quiet.
'I have never heard more of a deafening sound than the silence of when he was born.'
Those brief minutes before he started wailing were terrible, the maid herself said that she has never been more grateful for a scream.
Though, his mother on the other hand, went forever silent...
Now that he's on death's doorsteps himself. He couldn't help but try to remember how he grew up.
It's almost funny how he couldn't recall a thing, it was merely an empty past.
Cain lived like a shell, he tried, but little did he know he was chained by a history he couldn't quite fathom.
Wasn't his sin being born in the first place?
But even if he survived that first silence, didn't death always follow anyway..
He guessed the reason he truly felt the need to try to belong was his belief that, the thing about stories, even if it seemed like it's fated. Like it's truly the end.
Cain still wanted to believe that a story had infinite possibilities. An infinite amount of endings.
'But fate can't be played now, can it...?'
As a member of the royal family of one of the eighteen kingdoms, he was considered a disgrace to royals and nobility in general.
'A good for nothing who didn't even get chosen a card by the deck of gods.'
His chains rattled with the force of his grip as he held his father's gaze. Held all of their eyes.
'I did everything right my entire life. Everything I could...Yet, this family... This world...'
"Damn you! All of you!" He roared with all his might, glaring at the only people whose love and approval he has wanted all his life.
"No matter how hard I tried! You and this damned world!" His voice cracked, while not a single one of his so-called family, father, stepmother or brothers... not a single one of them looked the least interested in what was happening. As if this was something they had to get over with. As if his life was nothing. Even if they were all aware he was being accused wrong.
'Again...'
"Over..." Mumbling, Cain dropped his head with a sigh as he tried snapping his wrists against the chains repeatedly, even though he was sure he broke skin from how tight around his wrists they were.
"Over. And over, and over, and over, and over again!! How many times do you think I tried to belong?.."
Honestly, it had been a long time since Cain have known he would never be considered truly a part of that family... A part of...anywhere.
'I'm powerless.'
Spitting blood, he chuckled, "for you and that family's name you treasure so much... This was always coming wasn't it, Arthur?"
When they hit the age of eighteen, every member of a royal family from each kingdom is set to go to 'The Temple Of Infinite Destinies'.
'That freaking place...'
There, they'll be chosen by a magic church, or a card out of the infinite ones in the deck of gods.
Every royal-blooded would get a chance to form an engraving ritual with a certain path or get chosen by a card, and every card represents a certain god. Which Indicates the apostle's—royal member's—potential and attribute, depending on whichever path he chose. That's what distinguishes royals from peasants.
'Well... everyone except for me. Typical.'
Cain Ve Arencia. Ironically, on his eighteenth birthday, he was the only 'royal' throughout the entirety of the eighteen kingdoms' history who didn't get the chance to be chosen by a card.
He started to laugh bitterly now, his voice thundered throughout the entirety of the plaza, silencing the crowd of people and getting his father to narrow his eyes down at him.
"Arthur Ve Arencia " Cain smiled menacingly at the king, blood trailing down his arms and chin.
People started shouting in outrage again and the priest mumbled something to the executioners next to him, making them insert his head inside of the guillotine's hole and securing him with the pillory at the bottom of the frame.
'I don't want to die yet. Not yet... What did I ever live for?'
"At least not until I make sure of..." His throat was sore, wrists bloody and painful, yet all he could do was laugh. He laughed.
With all the will he had left, he laughed.
Eyes wide and that twisted smile still playing on his lips.
In the presence of all the noise coming from the crowds, Cain couldn't care less if what he was about to say wouldn't be heard.
His smile widened, "Heed my words, father. I swear if there is another life, I'll make sure to kill you as painfully as possible...You, that lovely family and everyone present here."
He could see the smirk playing on the king's lips.
'This life I've lived up until now.. did I ever even try to live for myself once...?'
Cain's smile dropped when some in the crowd started throwing stones at his face, forcing him to close one of his eyes when a rock directly poked it...
'This damned fate.'
"You know..." He mumbled, "it's honestly surprising how easy it is to get used to being the one to blame for everything bad this world had to offer."
Another stone, this time splitting the skin on his forehead.
"Am I truly the monster here?"
He knew he shouldn't bother to say more. No one would hear. No one would even care. They were empty promises since he was going to die either way. But..
"Down to every single person here...! I swear I'll burn it all to hell together with this world, father!!! Even if it was the last thing i'll ever do—!"
He couldn't even finish what he had to say when the blade was finally released, coming down on his neck, his vision darkened by crimson and all he saw last were the smirks of his family as his head rolled down the platform, the cheers of the crowd loud and clear just before everything went silent.
'That maid had been right. There truly isn't a sound louder than the silence followed by death... What a pathetic life.'
'If I could just get another chance... I will make sure to live it to the fullest...'
His vision was ceasing to nothingness. Until it stopped. Along with... everything.
"...."
"Lies." Someone whispered.
Cain still couldn't talk, move his gaze or see anything other than the sky...Though, at the edge of his vision, '...Is that hair?'
"You're not truly thinking about the life you didn't get to live properly, are you?" The voice whispered again, chilling breath brushing against the side of his face.
'What are you? How would you even know—'
"Oh please. If you really went back, would you even care about living your life?"
'.....'
"Your last words are quite interesting, you see."
'This guy—'
"Forget your family, when you go back, you wouldn't care about living happily, you only want to destroy this world..."
Its tone suddenly has changed. To the point where Cain suspected this being another... Something?
He could hear the laugh in their voices. It would've given him shivers if he still had his body intact.
'....Now that I think about it, how do I even still have consciousness?!'
"They were intriguing indeed! Of course that wouldn't be possible though. You're already dead."
He had the urge to roll his eyes.
'As if you need to rub that on my face.'
Suddenly, his vision darkened completely.
It felt as though he was plummeting endlessly, his consciousness spiraling down an infinite, black void where no sense of up or down, left or right, existed.
He could hear the echo of his own mind screaming, yet no sound escaped into the emptiness around him. Some kind of visions appeared, he could hear voices and conversation he was sure he never lived before.
'Are those memories?...'
Then, a sudden shudder ran through him. 'What...'
Everything in him wanted to scream.
'Dear Gods....What...Is that...?'
Three pairs of eyes flickered open in the darkness, their gaze piercing through the pitch like silent terror.
Blood-red, wide and unblinking, filled with ravenous intensity that chilled his soul. Pupils twisted into slits that seemed to contract as they locked onto him. As though he was no more than prey.
Primal fear. Nothing else could describe what he was feeling at that moment.
Yet at the same time...
"It is interesting indeed." Cain couldn't hear anything louder than a whisper.
"I think it's worth seeing how this would end..."
"So we'll give you a choice!" This voice sounded more feminine than the other two.
Three cards suddenly materialized before him, hovering in the darkness. Each card was different, demanding his attention.
'Are these...God cards?'
He really wanted to scream. His consciousness was shattering by the second.
The first card was bordered in tarnished gold, its image blurred and shifting as though alive. It depicted a robed figure with hollow eyes, its skeletal hands clutching a pair of scales that dripped with a dark, ink-like substance. The phrase 'The tyrant's judgement' was etched across the top, but the letters twisted and warped, almost as if they were writhing under his gaze.
The second card was surrounded by a cracked silver frame, cold to the sight, and its image was even darker—a single, towering eye, cracked down the center and oozing a thin, black liquid that spilled out into an empty, desolate landscape. Above it, the name 'Sole king's despair' pulsed like a heartbeat, each pulse sinking deeper into his mind.
Finally, The third card was bordered in a deep, rusted iron, almost dripping with a color that resembled old blood. Its center held a horrific figure with three faces, each staring in a different direction—eyes wide, mouths twisted in silent screams. The word 'She who foresees chaos' was scrawled at the bottom, barely legible, as if clawed there by something desperate and terrified.
'No... I've seen one before...they aren't supposed to look like this....this cursed...'
As he stared at the cards, his mind teetered on the edge of breaking, literally. He felt a pull from each one, a magnetic force that seemed to drag him toward a choice he could hardly comprehend, yet...
"Go on. Choose one." He felt the same cold breath against his ears.
'Is there a cost of some kind if I take one of these...Does it even matter? Nevermind a happy life...I'm chained to this past whether I want to or not. I wouldn't be able to live happily in the next one. So...this might be a chance.'
A moment passed before he finally found the voice in himself to mumble, "The three."
"What..?" The three voices said at the same time, leaving his mind on the blink of crumbling
completely.
"Give me all of them." He said breathlessly.
"...But we only said to choose one."
"Only one..."
"Only one!"
Even whispering, their voices alone are too much... overwhelming...
"Yeah, but I want to choose the three of them.."
"....you're kind of greedy."
He barely found the sanity in himself to continue, "Let me guess... These cards represent the three of you.."
'Though are you even gods? These don't look like holy cards to me..'
"But if I choose one...the other two would have to go away isn't it."
"····"
"Why would you when you've just found something you could call interesting....Give me the three... And I promise I'll show you more of an entertaining end..."
Silence stretched, he was afraid he crossed some kind of line before he heard their mumbling.
"He has a way with words."
"Kind of..."
"Indeed!"
Pretty much reaching his limit, he was fading.
"Okay. I'm quite fine with it."
"I don't see a problem either..."
"I think it'll be more fun like this!"
"Mhm–Hmm...then it's decided. Though if you did disagree, I'm sure he would've chosen my card anyway."
"No way. It would've definitely been mine."
"You boys are delusional, he would've chosen my card!"
"Eh...?"
'Are....are these things fighting right now?'
The last thing he heard were their joint voices as the darkness swallowed him whole, "You better keep your words, mortal.
...
A fragile looking woman hurried inside the room and snapped the curtains open so that morning sunlight filtered through, casting a warm glow over the bedroom.
'He's late!!' she panicked.
"Y-Young master!!", the woman—maid—ran towards the wardrobe and started picking up numerous clothes.
"You have to wake up! We're already late for your big day!"
Stirred by her voice, a young looking boy groaned as he woke up. Rubbing his eyes, he looked around his surroundings...
"...what?"
Not calming down, the maid quickly called again, "We don't have much time!"
'What...?' The boy couldn't understand what was happening, a sudden sharp headache made him clutch his temples and hiss in pain.
The last thing he remembered...'Death. Falling. Eyes...'
He looked back at the maid who was pretty much having a panic attack at this point. Cocking his head to the side, he mumbled, "who...are you?"
The maid didn't even bother to listen to what he just said and quickly pulled off the covers from his bed. "We only have one hour, please get up!"
'What the...'
Standing up, his knees buckled, making him almost trip on the spot.
He reached out to the maid's shoulder to steady himself.
'What.... Am I shorter?'
"Young master, Arthur. Are you okay?"
His head instantly snapped towards her, causing her to yelp.
"WHO?!!"