Lucius NightThorne. A gateway villain in the critically acclaimed online novel Wings of Arcadia. One of those Nobles with their noses in the clouds ready to crush commoners under the soles of designer shoes. Frankly, I always found them repulsive. Accolades and talents earned at birth and a lack of conviction to make that advantage blossom. Nothing more putrid then smelling rotten potential. Lucius was the average stain on noble elegance. A drunk, a playboy, a bully. Attending the academy promised to whip him into shape, but scrutiny from his fellow high born and the rise of the lowly protagonist pushed him to evil. If pushed is what you wanna call it. I always believed he would fall. With soiled potential like his, there is no other path. Red ruby eyes dulled through years of alcohol and fermented laziness. Blood red eyes burning with lust and self hatred. Eyes that were my own as I stared at my disheveled appearance in the mirror.
"The fuck..?" My hand touched at my bloody neck as I stared into the mirror.
From one thing to the next I guess. Last I remembered, I had Josh by the throat and next thing I know...
Red eyes and white locs, skin like milk chocolate, a scrawny frame that doesn't suit a man who frequents the gym.
What happened? I closed my eyes, trying to calm my heart that roared like a 8 cylinder engine.
"Lucy, Josh, Bastards..." I grimaced, trudging through the memories. "I almost killed him, the police..."
'I died.' My mouth couldn't voice those words.
My eyes, eyes of pain, stared back at me as I realized my demise. Like a tropical storm following a gloomy day, memories flood into my mind.
Not mine, but... still mine. No, Lucius. As the memories imprinted on my very soul I could feel each fold of my brain shift and writhe, combining 2 sets of memories, skills, and habits.
The past, present, and future assaulted me as I lost my sense of self.
Childhood. Happy times. Jay's? Lucius' Memories.
White braids and a shining smile, fresh fangs on display. In front of a garden of roses. Hand in hand with a girl a little older.
An accident? No. A craving. An instinct. The taste of warm blood, sliding down his throat. Fear in her eyes as she stared at me.
Shunned. Hated. Pity.
What was this? Who am I? How much time has passed?
And then clarity.
Jay was a doer. Someone who stood on what he said. Lucius was a thinker. A curse that led him to the end of a rope burning from the other end. What am I?
Lucy... Josh... My body tensed.
'I may not be Jay, but those fuckers won't get away.'
A new goal, a purpose for us both. Leave this world, and ruin their lives.
As I came to terms with my new purpose, walking back to the bed covered in blood a note crunched under my foot. Carefully, straightening it out. I realized this was a suicide note.
To Whoever Finds this,
The burden I am, the curses upon me, while false, feel true. I can't keep running from this. My family looks at me with no love, my friends steal from me, and the only person I have loved sees me as a monster. This marriage will fix nothing, nothing will change. Rather than continue to ruin other peoples lives. I will end my own. I hope this helps someone.
No sign off. A marriage? I racked my brain, but nothing clicked. Lucius had a mess of a mind to sort through, it wasn't until I saw the blood stained picture crumpled on the sheets I was able to recall my betrothed.
Inara, the princess of the Dark Elves.