Maybe the music is the same, but the truth is that this season (summer) is being really busy for me, and it's hard to balance work with writing, hence the delay.
I also went back to the gym, which, having only Sunday free, also takes up part of my time, but I've been feeling better, exercise really makes a difference.
In this chapter, I took a slightly different path, focusing more on inner thought. And maybe this is one of the chapters (along with some sentences that appeared in previous chapters) that hide where I want to take the story.
I still haven't gotten my week of vacation, as soon as my workload decreases I'll try to take it
Thank you so much for the support and concern Skyzrim. During work and the block, a few things actually came to mind that I might write down on paper, short but maybe interesting? You're the best. (This chapter its for you)
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There is a darkness that dwells within me, a fog that words can hardly define, but which keeps struggling to, finally, achieve its freedom. This feeling, however, is not unfamiliar to me; it has a disquieting familiarity, resembling the comfort of a loved one who, after a long journey, has finally found their way back home. It arrives not as a threat, but as a long-lost memory—a shadow that knows the contours of my soul better than I do myself, waiting patiently for the moment I am ready to acknowledge its presence
What would Léa say if she knew that, behind the facade I've built, there's something I don't recognize by name, but feel as if it were my own skin? I feel like my identity is being eroded by a force that refuses to stay hidden, and even though I fear the monster I feel trying to emerge, I can't deny that it feels strangely familiar.
It's terrifying, but the monster living inside me has the voice of truth, and the most disturbing thing is that I feel it has always been here, just waiting for me to have the courage — or the weakness — to let it be who I really am.
I press my palms against the rough, damp bark of an ancient oak, the silent witness to my timeless form. The only vibration in the still air comes from my own voice, internal yet thundering. There's no pulse under my touch, nor breath to match the rhythm of the wind. Just the cold, unchanging truth. My mask is cracking, and the monster has never been so close to giving the world its voice, long lost.
Every step I take on the carpet of dry leaves is a reminder of my isolation; there's no sound of breathing, no rhythmic beating of a heart, just the weight of my own body moving through the darkness. I walk through the forest without a clear destination, guided only by this emptiness that, though silent, seems to vibrate with an intention I don't recognize.
The trees, old and imposing, seem to bend as I pass by, as if they sense that the 'me' who used to walk these trails is no longer the same. Darkness doesn't surround me; it blends with me. It's as if the 'me' is a blind knot in the fabric of this forest, unable to untangle myself. I wonder if, wandering aimlessly, I'm looking for a way out or just giving the monster the time it needs to get used to this new, yet strangely familiar, domain.
The years have passed, and I feel that, truly, I've become colder; a coldness in my soul that freezes my very being. Maybe I've tried, all this time, to embrace this new drive pulsing inside me, but it's a useless effort. Looking back at all those who crossed my path, I realize there's nothing left but ashes and distant memories. What remains behind is just the trace of who I was, an echo that gets lost in the vastness of the darkness I now call home.
Maybe I should never have left Léa and Grabrille. At the time, blinded by my own confusion, I didn't realize that they had become more than just companions; they had become the pillar that held up my wavering humanity. There's a cruel irony in that: it was precisely them, at the moment I left, who inadvertently triggered the first awakening of what I now recognize, with terror, as my true self.
The weak light flickers between the trees, a dull glow that doesn't even pique my curiosity. I move closer without caution, without the prudence of someone who has something to lose. There's no anticipation in my chest, no pulse of hope or tremor of fear. There's just a vast, icy emptiness, the same emptiness that fills the space where my heart should be.
The smell becomes thicker, unmistakable. It's the mark of another like me, a trail I instinctively recognize as a distorted reflection of my own nature. Still, I keep moving forward with heavy, fearless steps, ignoring any survival protocols. I don't approach out of a desire to find a kindred spirit; I approach simply because the darkness pushes me in that direction, and whatever hides there is so insignificant compared to what awakens inside me that the idea of danger doesn't even form. I'm just the weight of fate, walking toward the very darkness that shares my name.
As I get closer, the light from the fire reveals a figure sitting there, engulfed in the darkness of the forest. The moment he turns to me, his hair looks like it's made of the night itself, contrasting with golden eyes that shine like suns in the middle of the gloom. He smiles, an expression that seems to know the deepest secrets of what I hide.
-"You look lost, Kael!" says the figure.
The moment he says my name, I feel a shake in my soul, an echo that reverberates through my existence. But, curiously, the monster that lives inside me doesn't react with rage, but with melancholy; no one can escape the past, not even monsters.
-"Don't be afraid, you can come closer. Maybe I can shed some light on your doubts." says the figure.
He takes his eyes off me and grabs a stick that he uses to poke the fire, smiling friendly.
I sit across from him as I watch him; it's not fear I feel, but something that might resemble a long-forgotten guilt.
-" How do you know my name?" ask Kael.
The figure looks at me, keeping that friendly and disarming smile.
-"You have many eyes on you, Kael; fate is something that marks us all!" says the figure, his voice sounding like an inevitable verdict