What does it feel like to be killed by your lover?
To gaze into their eyes as life slowly drains from you?
That sharp pierce through your heart- is it a longing?
That moment of sadness, of realisation?
What does it feel like to be selfishly devoted to someone?
To the point that you forget your own self.
That you become meaningless.
How is it that someone can be obsessed with another person?
I heard someone say: 'Obsession is just another form of selfishness.'
Then is selflessness another form of obsession?
Or is selflessness a characteristic of pure love?
I didn't know what true love is.
I couldn't say, 'I know what it feels like to be loved truly'
I can't say I've felt it at least once.
Is being alive a form of love?
Why do my parents fight if they married for love?
If love was the reason, why won't they listen to each other?
Why won't they try to heal each other's wounds?
Why does he hit her, trying to assert dominance?
Why does she reek of another alpha's scent every night and deal fatherly a heavy blow of words every chance she gets?
If we, the children, the result of this said love -
shouldn't we be treasured?
Shouldn't we be thriving?
Why are we suffering in the dark?
.
.
.
.
A roof over our heads.
Plentiful food, clothes, and glory.
Yet we feel hollow whenever we think of them.
We have treasures peasants' children wouldn't die for - yet we're never full.
We claw, grip, slide in this darkness.
No father,
no mother,
Even though they're here.
What is the point of being celebrated?
I don't understand it.
What is the point of birthdays? It means you're older; you can't cling to innocence anymore.
Even innocence was a facade as a child.
Then what is innocence? Why do I despise it so, even when I look into the eyes of a crying child on the battlefield?
We're both children.
The same age.
Ash falls like snow around us,
There's a sword in my hand,
What gives you the right to cry?
There are dead bodies of grown men around us - all slayed by my hand.
Why do you look at me like that?
What is this funny feeling in my chest?
'You are but to serve the order of humanity, nothing more.'
Exhale.
'Remember, child, you are no human; you belong to Zunaria. You are the future of Kunaria; it's glorious tools!'
That's right, I shouldn't think like this.
'Listen well and listen good, child; the enemy must be vanquished, no matter the cost'
You're from the enemy kingdom, child or not.
You are an enemy! Don't look at me like him.
I'm-I'm supposed to kill you!'
Why. Why am I shaking?
'Astra' …It's all because - 'Good job, kiddo!'
I've experienced the warmth of someone's hand on my head; it hadn't felt threatening at all, just familiar... just pride, no cold disappointment. Just familiarity:
'What are you doing out in the cold, kiddo?'
'I failed a simple task you gave me. I must receive my punishment.' '
E-Ehh?!' I kept my gaze on the ground.
'Kid-' he paused mid-sentence, shook his head, and dragged his hand down his face. I felt a pang curl in the depths of my stomach; he was disappointed. I'd failed again. I looked down, unworthy.
'Hey.' The softness of his voice made me double-take; however, I kept my gaze on the ground.
'Kid, look at me.' I looked up. The warm emotion in those orange eyes made my eyes widen despite myself. He smiled softly, his voice grounding.
'I'm not mad at you for forgetting to feed Kitto.' My breath hitched. He continued, 'Accidents happen; besides, he's a grown-ass dragon. He can surely take care of himself if not fed by an 8-year-old kid.' He rubbed the back of his head with an embarrassed expression.
'Besides, I'm a full-grown 30-year-old man, still single (absolutely not my fault), and I still forget to tie my own satchel. Can you believe that? I stared dumbfounded. He chuckled, then suddenly his expression became serious, almost stern, as he raised his hands. I braced myself. But he only put them on my shoulders.
'From now on, you're not to be punished under my wing for any mistake, no matter how small or big. Am I clear, soldier?' I stared in disbelief, then nodded quietly.
'Atta kiddo!'
.
.
.
Now tell me... why should I protect your innocence?
'Because it's right. The strong protect the weak-'
The right be damned! No one was there when you were dying alone! I raised my sword; I will kill the enemy, I must- the little girl shrieks, clutching her stuffed toy like it would protect her from my wrath. My sword goes through the ground and hits the floor.
Wide blue eyes, stolen from a peacock's, look up at me in surprise.
My gaze is on the endless bodies surrounding me. She and I are the only ones left in this battlefield turned wasteland. The enemy - they weren't soldiers.
I had killed innocent people.
I dropped to my knees, body trembling; I could feel the occasional tap, tap, tap on my armour as the skies darkened.
I'd gone ahead and killed innocent people; the smell of iron was so thick in the air.
'I'm sorry.' My voice trembled; there was a crack in the sky.
I'd broken my promise.
I'd been used willingly.
'I'm sorry.'
This time my face hit the earth, but heavy tears slid down my cheeks - I was cold, so cold. I wanted that warmth again, the same warmth I'd rejected.
"Kid!"
'What's up, kiddo?'
'Got you the tastiest pie!'
'I'm going to turn that frown upside down one day'
'Come on, kid, no time to be lazy; have to learn!' I could still hear his hearty laugh in my mind. Suddenly, the rain was released mercilessly. The soft cling of metal joined the rain in its symphony all around me.
I was utterly alone.
And I deserved it.
I vaguely heard footsteps.
I did not care. Till soft hands touched my cheeks, and once more I was engulfed by warmth, although colder and wetter than dry. It was the sole survivor of the farmers I'd slayed, the little girl who looked at me like I was her salvation - now, destruction.
'It's okay, I'm scared too.' Her voice was tiny, so fragile. And suddenly I came to terms with the truth I had been running from
I missed him