Searing 65th, 4622
I am lying there confused in one of Hugo’s bedrooms and yet he doesn't treat me as if I’m a captive, perhaps he felt some state of mercy or whether he would become much more dark. Still, I was weak, I was recovering from mageblight and yet he helped me… But why? Veiren were like vultures in their culture and it proved to be so difficult to determine if he was going to do me harm, or whether he was in perpetual melancholy like me.
Climbing out of my bed, I walk to the outside of the room of the house, looking downwards, out of the window at the two men who appeared to be sword fighting. It was funny, it reminded me of the time Tiberius taught me to fight for the trial I would face. To prove if I was capable of serving at the court above. Many Corvo scrambled for their lives trying to be the one who draws many, but it appeared that the prospects of many Corvo was gifted in the survival of the fittest.
Charming as it was, I began to wonder if there are other hardships that the Entente face, what if society hurts other people as it’s hurt me? It’s bound to happen for I have seen bloodshed, torture and coercion through their ways, but once you start seeing those atrocious acts, it is hard to unsee, hard to unknow everything that you saw.
They say scars disappear, but do they?
I watched further as the hawk face man gave instructions on fighting, the type that appeared to be useful; from guarding techniques to full blown strikes with the blade. He appeared to be a very good teacher, so much that my observations made each memory clearer.
I was a visionary after all, a fighter who learns by the mere grounds of observation as wisdom appears to be a great trait of mine, but not the most prominent amongst others. I indeed have flaws, recognise them, challenge them and most of all try to divert myself away from such actions, for I am both a fool and a wise man. I learn from my mistakes as I observe from other’s teachings, applying them to my own use.
I understand now.
I can’t be perfect no matter how much Brazim filters my skin with the soul of a dreg, granting me the desires of a beautiful stranger. We are all so marred by our choices in every way that we can be uglier on the inside, tainted by the very insubordinations of society that we still adopt to this day, as well as the taint of religion.
I see it everywhere, from this poor young soul who fences with his master. He was blinded because others were blinded. He had no choice as did I. It’s a matter of one thing and it appears to be survival.
It’s unfair, callous and cruel and yet there was nothing I could do to change the hands of time, but simply watch as the boy’s misery would make itself known. He was as desperate as I and yet I thought against him. Perhaps, he was different to all the others as he seemed well mannered, calm and collective when dealing with my shit. On the other side, there were doubts in my mind that all Entente were sneaky little chameleons.
I couldn’t make my mind up if he was different, if he was just a young man trapped in the loop of this society, but there was only one way to find out.
After they appeared to finish, I headed to the door of his room as I listened in for a moment, knowing it would be another presence. I could hear what seemed like crying through most of the night, as if he were there within, trying to come by the differences. But what if there weren’t any differences in our lives? What if we both struggled through the harsh expenditure of life, hoping that it would get better every single day. The truth is, I didn’t choose to cry about it, I just got on with every painstaking game that they would throw at me.
I do not want to die He said.
I frowned at the sudden sentiment as I pricked my finger and began to lick the blood from its finger tip; I began to camouflage into the room’s shape, forming a barrier of pseudo-invisibility around my form. I creeped in only to find the man heaped on the bed, sobbing his heart out as he thought about it; then I remembered…
The expedition.
That’s what he was going to ask me about. I knew I had some sort of role in it, but it appeared that it was a dangerous journey. I’ve dealt with danger but not on this level. Maybe that was the reason why he felt the harsh reality of Entente life, knowing the recent conversations he had with his master about political matters and being exposed.
I sat on the bed for a moment as he continued sobbing, watching him knowing that he would feel an imprint. Maybe it would be a comforting presence that someone was listening to him. I proceeded to get up and tiptoe out the room, before accidentally slamming the door with a loud thud.
Shit!
That was bound to wake him, I could only tiptoe back to my room for a moment and slap myself under the covers, like nothing ever happened.
Phew, that was close. I hope he didn’t see me.
If only I could show the man what it is like, living under my shoes.
I better not though, it was best to keep my lips sealed on the matter and discuss nothing for he could use my painful memories against me.
I didn’t even know his other magic capabilities, firstly it was Brand, a familiar magic that most battlemages carried with them; the ability to convert their ether into a powerful sight. Maybe that was how he spotted me with Shroud, how he had been able to find me through the use of the sickness I have accumulated. Still, it wasn't bad, maybe I owe him a favor or two for saving my life. Whatever that may be, I’m scared…
Oh, there goes that hawk-eyed cretin again, staring at me with those eyes. That glare that makes you want to punch a man in the face. The eyes wandered for a moment as I watched him make his way over to his own room, only to keep a further eye on me. The truth was, I was a Remnomancer, a man with eyes at the back of their head, those who peer into the minds of others in pursuit of knowledge, or to wipe a mind completely into oblivion.
The cries were painful to hear, as if they remind me of my own fears that I choose to bottle up. I sometimes wonder if it would be best if I went in there to comfort him, but those eyes were on me all the time. Those petrifying monstrous sockets that only spoke spite and contempt to me. It was as if he was warped by the very existence of the Entente’s legacy and yet he sees me as a threat. I know he does, if only he learnt to mind his own business, knowing that I might have thrown a knife in between his eyes by now.
He would’ve been dead.
Yet, the only way I must approach this issue is nod kindly and graciously, smile back and give the man no ammunition to use against me. After all, I knew how to play the game very well for I have played it as a way of survival. It is a natural talent being a chameleon amongst men, the perks of gaining riches through charm, etiquette and seduction.
It was my game after all.
There did come a curse however. The curse that required your body to yearn for more, as if in a state of perpetual lust, easily excited by substances that excite the mind as well as the yearning for seeking out different lifestyles, trying new things and even bedding lover after lover until you find the one you’re satisfied with. There is one question, will I ever be satisfied? If only I could answer that question myself as perhaps I would’ve been happier.
And yet as with most things that you want, there comes a painful price. A price that must be the inevitable demons that you live with.
The feelings of lust and energy sapped within.
I am lying there confused in one of Hugo’s bedrooms and yet he doesn't treat me as if I’m a captive, perhaps he felt some state of mercy or whether he would become much more dark. Still, I was weak, I was recovering from mageblight and yet he helped me… But why? Veiren were like vultures in their culture and it proved to be so difficult to determine if he was going to do me harm, or whether he was in perpetual melancholy like me.
Climbing out of my bed, I walk to the outside of the room of the house, looking downwards, out of the window at the two men who appeared to be sword fighting. It was funny, it reminded me of the time Tiberius taught me to fight for the trial I would face. To prove if I was capable of serving at the court above. Many Corvo scrambled for their lives trying to be the one who draws many, but it appeared that the prospects of many Corvo was gifted in the survival of the fittest.
Charming as it was, I began to wonder if there are other hardships that the Entente face, what if society hurts other people as it’s hurt me? It’s bound to happen for I have seen bloodshed, torture and coercion through their ways, but once you start seeing those atrocious acts, it is hard to unsee, hard to unknow everything that you saw.
They say scars disappear, but do they?
I watched further as the hawk face man gave instructions on fighting, the type that appeared to be useful; from guarding techniques to full blown strikes with the blade. He appeared to be a very good teacher, so much that my observations made each memory clearer.
I was a visionary after all, a fighter who learns by the mere grounds of observation as wisdom appears to be a great trait of mine, but not the most prominent amongst others. I indeed have flaws, recognise them, challenge them and most of all try to divert myself away from such actions, for I am both a fool and a wise man. I learn from my mistakes as I observe from other’s teachings, applying them to my own use.
I understand now.
I can’t be perfect no matter how much Brazim filters my skin with the soul of a dreg, granting me the desires of a beautiful stranger. We are all so marred by our choices in every way that we can be uglier on the inside, tainted by the very insubordinations of society that we still adopt to this day, as well as the taint of religion.
I see it everywhere, from this poor young soul who fences with his master. He was blinded because others were blinded. He had no choice as did I. It’s a matter of one thing and it appears to be survival.
It’s unfair, callous and cruel and yet there was nothing I could do to change the hands of time, but simply watch as the boy’s misery would make itself known. He was as desperate as I and yet I thought against him. Perhaps, he was different to all the others as he seemed well mannered, calm and collective when dealing with my shit. On the other side, there were doubts in my mind that all Entente were sneaky little chameleons.
I couldn’t make my mind up if he was different, if he was just a young man trapped in the loop of this society, but there was only one way to find out.
After they appeared to finish, I headed to the door of his room as I listened in for a moment, knowing it would be another presence. I could hear what seemed like crying through most of the night, as if he were there within, trying to come by the differences. But what if there weren’t any differences in our lives? What if we both struggled through the harsh expenditure of life, hoping that it would get better every single day. The truth is, I didn’t choose to cry about it, I just got on with every painstaking game that they would throw at me.
I do not want to die He said.
I frowned at the sudden sentiment as I pricked my finger and began to lick the blood from its finger tip; I began to camouflage into the room’s shape, forming a barrier of pseudo-invisibility around my form. I creeped in only to find the man heaped on the bed, sobbing his heart out as he thought about it; then I remembered…
The expedition.
That’s what he was going to ask me about. I knew I had some sort of role in it, but it appeared that it was a dangerous journey. I’ve dealt with danger but not on this level. Maybe that was the reason why he felt the harsh reality of Entente life, knowing the recent conversations he had with his master about political matters and being exposed.
I sat on the bed for a moment as he continued sobbing, watching him knowing that he would feel an imprint. Maybe it would be a comforting presence that someone was listening to him. I proceeded to get up and tiptoe out the room, before accidentally slamming the door with a loud thud.
Shit!
That was bound to wake him, I could only tiptoe back to my room for a moment and slap myself under the covers, like nothing ever happened.
Phew, that was close. I hope he didn’t see me.
If only I could show the man what it is like, living under my shoes.
I better not though, it was best to keep my lips sealed on the matter and discuss nothing for he could use my painful memories against me.
I didn’t even know his other magic capabilities, firstly it was Brand, a familiar magic that most battlemages carried with them; the ability to convert their ether into a powerful sight. Maybe that was how he spotted me with Shroud, how he had been able to find me through the use of the sickness I have accumulated. Still, it wasn't bad, maybe I owe him a favor or two for saving my life. Whatever that may be, I’m scared…
Oh, there goes that hawk-eyed cretin again, staring at me with those eyes. That glare that makes you want to punch a man in the face. The eyes wandered for a moment as I watched him make his way over to his own room, only to keep a further eye on me. The truth was, I was a Remnomancer, a man with eyes at the back of their head, those who peer into the minds of others in pursuit of knowledge, or to wipe a mind completely into oblivion.
The cries were painful to hear, as if they remind me of my own fears that I choose to bottle up. I sometimes wonder if it would be best if I went in there to comfort him, but those eyes were on me all the time. Those petrifying monstrous sockets that only spoke spite and contempt to me. It was as if he was warped by the very existence of the Entente’s legacy and yet he sees me as a threat. I know he does, if only he learnt to mind his own business, knowing that I might have thrown a knife in between his eyes by now.
He would’ve been dead.
Yet, the only way I must approach this issue is nod kindly and graciously, smile back and give the man no ammunition to use against me. After all, I knew how to play the game very well for I have played it as a way of survival. It is a natural talent being a chameleon amongst men, the perks of gaining riches through charm, etiquette and seduction.
It was my game after all.
There did come a curse however. The curse that required your body to yearn for more, as if in a state of perpetual lust, easily excited by substances that excite the mind as well as the yearning for seeking out different lifestyles, trying new things and even bedding lover after lover until you find the one you’re satisfied with. There is one question, will I ever be satisfied? If only I could answer that question myself as perhaps I would’ve been happier.
And yet as with most things that you want, there comes a painful price. A price that must be the inevitable demons that you live with.
The feelings of lust and energy sapped within.
