I Serve

A/N Share any and all thoughts at the end, it may help me in deciding to make a complete story. This is not the greatest work of all time, if anything feels iffy, let me know.

"Dialogue"

'Thoughts' (Third person only)

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POV: Viera Kerss Cil Reoir (Female)

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How long has it been since my creator had left me all alone? When had she, a person akin to a mother, abandoned me? That was 101 trillion years ago. I was discarded just a billion years after I was created. I've accepted the fact that I was imperfect at the time, a failure. I shouldn't be having such thoughts like these after all these times. A servant shouldn't think about themselves, only about their master. For some reason, these thoughts resurged once more while I looked upon my current master.

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I am standing behind my current master. His name is Karls Ainsland, the ruling emperor of Ainsland, the largest territory of this world.

We are on the balcony of his fortress centered within the capital. His long hair has turned half gray, yet he is still strong and stubborn as any man could be. He was tall and imposing. He is also one of the most skilled fighters if not the greatest fighter in the empire.

My master is wearing his black-colored, gold trim high-grade battle armor, and holding a massive shield in his left hand, no doubt because of the civil war occurring in the empire. I cannot deny the fact that he abused and exploited his people or that he neglected everyone except for the nobility. He has killed his own countrymen and burned villages that disobeyed his rule.

He asked me if to tell him if he was really hated, I told him “yes”. It left a bland taste in my mouth. I never voice my thoughts or opinions. I didn’t hate him. He is kinder to me than others I used to serve.

Usually, my master doesn't take criticism very well. He’d usually kill those who spoke ill of him. He spared me from this fate. I am his most trusted servant, my loyalty unwavering.

This particular civil war started five years ago Emperor Karls's. It wasn't the peasants or commoners who were fed up with his rule. It was the merchant clans who were furious when he increased the taxes on their goods.

An organized movement against the empire was funded by the merchant clans. Even some nobles joined the cause. These were people who hated or were wronged by my master and wanted him ousted. These were the people whose lives were destroyed by his actions. These were the people who wanted his head. These were the rebels or the Ainsland Revolutionary Army they call themselves.

They talked of how they'll create a new state, a republic. The concept of democracies and republics has come from the far west. It seems like these ideas always manage to appear in every world and universe I have gone to.

The rebels are led by an aspiring young man, a son of commoners. His tactical brilliance and cunningness could be described as one in a million. But to me, I have seen leaders equal or greater to this man, this revolution is one of many that I have seen, experienced, and taken part in. His name was Mallius Rhey.

The rebels have swept throughout the countryside and won battle after battle. The armies carelessly sent in were devastated. Many soldiers have surrendered or deserted, unwilling to fight a losing war.

I could've voiced my thoughts to my master but I kept silent. A servant never goes against their master’s choices. I do not speak until spoken to. I do not disobey any order. I carry out instructions word by word to perfection.

The military resources of the empire were well above what was needed to crush both rebels and the merchant clans, but arrogance caused my master’s downfall. I have learned about the art of war when I served under previous masters. I could end this civil war with an amazing victory. Alas, my master does not know of my capabilities. I could overturn armies at his word, but if he has not ordered me to move, I shall not move.

The Ainsland Revolutionary Army is winning yet my master is relatively calm. The civil has reached the capital. My master quietly observes the city. His mighty bloodline is going to fall after a thousand years since the empire’s birth.

Many nobles have fled to neighboring states, most of whom were my master's former allies.

“Emperor Ainsland! Surrender now and be judged for your crimes!” Mallius, the leader of the rebels, shouted as his sword points at the balcony.

The city guard had surrendered, the fortress is surrounded. The gates are being broken down right now as my master is formulating a plan. He’s trying to calculate an escape of sorts but I know that there is no escaping. He'll be hunted down and captured before he even reaches the countryside. The remaining soldiers in the fortress look ready to lynch the emperor themselves. I prefer they do not. The emperor is still my master after all. However, I cannot raise a hand against them. I do not move unless ordered to. I do not talk unless told to. I do not do anything to the benefit of myself. I do not act independently no matter what goes on. I only do as my master tells me.

The other servants and maids have fled. They are all pathetic. A servant does not flee as long as their lord still stands. This is one of the reasons why I still am with my master even now.

Ah~ the massive gates have been destroyed by the battering rams.

He finally turns around to me. His expression stiffens.

“ . . . After forty years of service, your appearance has never changed a bit. Just a woman I picked up on the way to my coronation huh? We shall go to the throne room. What kind of emperor does not greet their guests? Come and follow me.”

I remember the day my current master accepted me as his servant. It was during the parade of his coronation ceremony. At twenty years of age, he was in his prime and many were wondering how his rule would be like. Unexpectedly, the entire royal family was assassinated except for him and he had taken the crown without much experience. My master was so easily misguided by the nobles and advisors of this country, so easily corrupted. I stood off to the side and would only observe my master speed up the downfall of the empire.

My master exits the balcony. He passes by me as he heads towards the door of his chambers. I follow suit but not before I took a glance at the body mirror beside my master’s wardrobe.

There is no imperfection on my pale white. My blue eyes glow a dull dark blue. In the past when I still served under my first master, who happens to be my creator, my eyes had a vibrant aquamarine glow to them. That has long disappeared and I still try to figure out why they won’t return to their former color. I had luscious lips and long, silky, silver hair. My slim body and curvaceous figure were topped off with modest breasts. I am wearing my preferred choice of clothing consisting of a white cravat, white, silk satin gloves (gloves that extend to the elbows), my white blouse with sleeves up to my elbows, a black dress with white trimmings, two inches above the knees, along with two pockets, and black heels. In my hands was my master’s helmet. It was completely black with only a gold emblem of the royal family on the forehead and a slit for the eyes. I study myself for the briefest of moment before continuing to walk.

My creator made to be perfect in about every way and to serve her. Sadly, I wasn’t as perfect as I believed. My creator had left me a long time ago. If I were the perfect servant, she’d never have left me. I always wondered if she truly loved me in the end—No she hadn’t. She abandoned me. I most likely didn’t meet up to her expectations. I am one of her failed creations.

One way or another, I had stumbled into the part of her realm where she had kept all of her creations. I fell into one of these worlds and my new master, my second master, had taken me as a servant. He was a God I believed, one of many in the world and also the highest of the Gods and Goddesses of his world. For a while, I believed I could forever serve him. It was one of the greater moments of my eternal life until the world of which I stumbled into was engulfed by the void once their time had ended. My first master never created something which would last forever, the exception being me.

I was lost for a long while after my second master past away. I was lost for 100 trillion years when my second master’s time had passed. It hurts too much when I think of it. I think I changed during those times. I’m not sure in what way though but as long as my performance isn’t affected, it doesn’t matter. All is well as long as I can serve, as long as I am useful in some way. I do not need anything that does not contribute to my productivity nor do I need needless weight.

I am created as a servant. I live as a servant. For the past trillion years, I scoured the countless lesser-realms and creations made by my creator and served various masters.

It does not matter if my creator showered me with affection as if I were her daughter. She first created me so I could serve her and no matter what she does, she cannot change that without dismantling me to the core and rebuilding me from bottom to top. She had left me, discarded me. My second master had passed away, leaving me all by myself. I spent nearly 100 trillion years alone before stumbling into another world, prompting my life as a servant serving countless masters in these past trillion years.

Why are these thoughts surfacing again? I thought they had disappeared a long time ago? They are unnecessary for a servant like me. My will is irrelevant. Emotions unneeded. I must be perfect for my master.

My master and I are already in the throne room. I thoughtlessly entered the throne room moments earlier along with my master. He is on his throne atop of stairs to give a sense of authority. His massive rectangular black shield leans on the left side of the throne. I am standing beside him with his helmet in my hand. He’s expecting an audience.

I notice myself twiddling my fingers. A servant should never act so anxious.

The throne room is large enough to fit half a hundred of men. A fine red carpet covered the floor leads from the door and up the stairs to the throne. Flags hang on the walls of the throne room, the ceilings are raised high and massive chandeliers hang above our heads, and a massive painting of my master Emperor Karls Ainsland placed on the wall behind the throne.

My master’s gold engraved throne was crafted by the most skilled artists. They were paid handsomely for their work.

As we patiently wait, the sounds of battle near the doors. Suddenly, the doors are knocked open as dozens upon dozens of rebels entered the throne room, getting in a half circle in front of the throne. All of them were wary of my master’s sword skills, which he boasts, could take on a hundred men at the same time. He isn’t anywhere near my power nor the strength some of my previous masters but he surely isn’t the weakest I have served.

Perhaps I should’ve informed him that I could fight the moment I first met him. It is too late. If my master does not ask, I do not speak. I do not speak or boast of my capabilities. It is unfitting to do so. If I am not asked, I do not say so.

Many of the rebels stare at my master, then turning to me questioningly. The rebels moved aside as their leader Mallius makes his way to the front.

His sword is unsheathed and pointed at my master’s face. I want to kill him but I do not act unless instructed to.

“Emperor Karls Ainsland! If you turn yourself in and face your crimes to the country and you will not have to face death! Even if you were the bastard cause the death of my parents! Give up! Your soldiers have fled, and your servants—!” he looked at me, mouth gaping.

It is unbecoming of a man to have their mouths gaping of which flies can get into. It is even ruder to stare.

He lowers his sword and turns his body in my direction.

“Servant, you need not work for this tyrant any longer”, his voice was loud and passionate, “If you have not partaken in any of this man’s crimes, you are free of any ill will. If he has forced you to work for him in any, then stay safe right where you are.”

I glare at him. It is one of the few things I can do as a servant as long as I remain indifferent.

“She’s not just any servant Mallius. She’s the emperor’s whore! His damned personal servant! His personal doll! Dirty slut!” a man beside Mallius, his friend from how I see it, states for all to hear.

My master grips the armrest of his throne. No one notices except for me. I presume my master doesn’t like such vulgar remarks. He takes a glance at me. It seems like he wants me to reply.

I nod and step forward. I suppose replying to the man’s remarks will be fine.

I give them a respectful curtsy after setting my master’s helmet down on top of a handkerchief I keep within my pocket dimension, a limitless space to keep all my items or my master’s items in.

“I pride myself in as Emperor Karls’s Ainsland’s personal servant. Never have we had sex once before. I am not promiscuous”, my master listened to my words. He appears discontent with my words even though I answered like any good servant should.

Mallius’s eyes are full of resentment.

“You work with this man willingly?!” Mallius cried out, ignoring my extra comments, “A man who has killed hundreds of thousands of countrymen? A man who has done nothing to help the people? A man of greed and corruption?”

Many others start to insult me until my master got up from his seat and unsheathes his massive sword and readies to fight.

“You damned dirty peasants have no right to insult me or my personal servant!” he’s infuriated. “She is the perfect example of a subject who obeys their lord unlike you!”

The rebels stop shouting. Rebel archers check their arrow count in the back line while the rebels in the front prepare a formation.

“Helmet.” With that one word from my master, I grabbed the helmet from the floor, putting the handkerchief back in my pocket dimension.

Before I could hand my master’s helmet to him, he stopped me with his hand.

“Put it on for me.”

I obeyed and fastened his helmet on for him. Before I let his helmet go, he began to whisper to me.

“Viera. I’ve always wanted to let you know that . . . . . . You are the best servant I could ask for”, my master speaks through his helmet.

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Praise is unnecessary. I was created with the sole purpose as a servant.

“At first I thought you were just a plain wench. I don’t like to admit it but I first took you in as my servant mainly because of my lust and your beauty.”

Like one of many of my masters who took in this servant to sate their desires.

“But you were so detached and dull, so willing to follow my orders. I pitied you.”

I need not pity. I am a servant. I put my master first and foremost. I carry out my instructions without fail.

“No, nevermind. But I have to say that you’re a unique one. You didn’t look like you aged one bit when I first picked you up and never have I seen anyone with such an appearance. Silver hair and dim glowing blue eyes.”

I can cast illusions if you want my appearance to look more aged, even making my eyes appear a different color from what it isn’t.

I stare into my master’s dark brown eyes after I finish adjusting his helmet.

“Although every member of the royal house is dead, I wanted to let you that I have never seen someone so willingly to serve as my personal servant and be so faithful. Truly a servant befitting for someone like me.”

He places his large hand on my left shoulder and asks me silently, “What do you think of me?”

I never expected my master to ever ask a question like this. He would never bother getting any closer to me or ask for my thoughts. I, myself, would never think about anything other than to serve my master. I attempt to answer as best as I could. My lips move to form words. I never had to think much whenever I serve, I only follow commands. I think, speak, and move if I am told to do so. If there is no task to do, I wait patiently for my next instruction. Yet, I feel myself releasing some pent up thoughts I never knew I had. A trillion years since I first began moving place to place to find a new master

“You are my master, one of the many I had, have, or will serve. You are, and will always be the emperor of the Ainsland Empire. You have housed me for these past 40 years. My time under you was comfortable. You command immense power and will forever be remembered.”

My master accepts my words.

“. . . It took me forty years later, when I have grown to be an old man, to realize the extent of my actions . . . When you told me that my subjects hated me, when the flames of war were raging, I knew that times are changing and it will change one way or another. The royal family has ruled too long. I have inherited the arrogance of my father and became greedy with all of this power. Now I’m here in my fortress surrounded by enemies without an heir and all my escape routes blocked off. The last I have left of my empire is the things on my person and you. You could’ve fled and I wouldn’t mind it. You could’ve vilified me as a villain when that peasant leader asked for your alignment. But now half the rebels in the room want your head as well as mine. You can end your life quickly with this pill”, my master hands me a quick-acting poisonous pill. “I meant to use it earlier but it seemed like you still stayed with me even as the fortress was besieged. I thank you for your devotion.”

I look at the pill in my hand . . . . . . . worthless.

I put the pill in my mouth. I swallow it whole. It will have no effect on me.

My master looks at me, his eyes widened. He has mistaken my action as the greatest display of devotion. Make no mistake master, I am always wholeheartedly devoted to my master no matter who it is. You want to be assured that I will not suffer so you have handed me this pill. Although I cannot die, and so it is one of my shortcomings, I will carry out your desires to the best of my abilities.

My master removes his hand from my shoulder as he steps aside and faces the crowd of rebels. He puts on the most pompous and loudest voice I have heard him speak in.

“Do you insects believe I will bow down to this justice of yours?! All I see are a bunch of children playing heroes! There is no justice in the world! People are born stronger than others! People are born weak with ailments! Mongrels! All of you! All whores of the merchant clans! You wouldn’t dare to even stand in my presence five years ago and just because you believe victory is guaranteed, you better claim my head or I shall claim yours!”

My master has resigned to his death. I notice it in the eyes. I, a servant who could move the heavens, destroy worlds, and frighten demons, am standing aside whilst her master stares down death.

I do not act unless told to.

I served under greater evils than you.

I do not speak until spoken to.

I served Gods and Goddesses of far greater power.

A servant’s will and desires are meaningless.

I served far more abusive masters before who’d do many obscene and abusive things to their servants.

Even if I wanted to move out, I cannot. Even if I wanted to cry out, I am silent. Even if I want to help you, I resign myself to the role of bystander.

I do not dare to do anything unless it is an instruction. I do not dare to object to anything. I do not dare to think for myself or have self-interests.

If I am abandoned, I cannot object to it. If I am discarded, I do not question the reasons.

I am a servant, nothing more or less.

A servant’s thoughts are irrelevant.

“Archers on my command!!” Mallius shouted.

All the archers in the rear nock their arrows and aim.

“Ready? Fire!”

A volley of arrows soars across the throne room.

My master raises his enormous shield and blocks them all.

“You cowards need to do better than just shoot sticks at me all day!”

My master charges down the stairs. He rams Mallius, immediately knocking him out before moving onto killing all the rebels around the entrance of the throne room.

My master tends to kill people in the most painful way possible. He always did have a sadistic nature. He sliced apart men in one cleave and bashed heads in with his fist.

Dozens of bodies began falling. The rebels fail to wound him, his armor protecting him from most swings and slashes. A lucky arrow manages to his the shoulder joint of my master. In anger, he finds the person at fault and tears his arms off. Many of the rebels are sickeningly pale. All I can do is watch in silence.

More rebels flood into the throne room to replace their fallen brethren. All the those injured

have retreated to make room for the others.

I did not act when my master got surrounded in the middle of the throne room.

I did not act when the rebels began stabbing the joints in his armor.

I did not act when his breath became weary.

I did not act when he was drenched in the blood of his enemies and himself.

I did not act when the leader of the Ainsland Revolutionary Army Mallius came to consciousness.

I did not act when my master was stabbed from behind by Mallius.

I did not raise a hand when my master was beheaded by angry rebels.

I did not help, only because I was not told to.

I am a servant. I do not act unless instructed to. I stay my hand. I cannot have an independent will. I cannot have personal thoughts. I cannot do as I wish.

After all, my masters eventually pass away one way or another.

Everyone’s time is used up.

Eventually, it is me, the servant, who is left all alone.

‘Tis the fate of all my masters. In the end, they will die and I will move on. I will be lost once more until I find another person to serve.

I, the one who was abandoned by my first master, am worthless.

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Mallius POV

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We finally killed the tyrant emperor, the same one who had caused innocent deaths and the death of my parents.

Five years ago if you asked me to lead an armor numbering over 200,000, I’d think you’re insane. Yet here I am, leading the Ainsland Revolutionary Army battle after battle, all of which we have won.

The damned emperor didn’t go down without a fight. He killed many of my friends because of what he’s done. There were many losses but we will recover and we will prosper once more.

I delivered the stab which brought down the emperor. His guard was lowered, he was exhausted, and he was heavily injured. He fell by my hand.

Some other fellows who hated the emperor to the core cut decapitated his dead body and celebrated by tossing his head like it was a hot potato.

I was staring at the entrance of the throne room where my men had gathered. They all are cheering.

We won.

“You fucking bitch!” I hear my fellow countrymen behind me.

I turn to look at the throne of the now deceased emperor.

Looking at the young lady on top of the stairs, I immediately realize that she was the emperor’s personal servant.

She is surrounded by some men. Her hair is being tugged by an incredibly buff, tanned skin man.

“The emperor isn’t here to save you now!” the man tugging her hair said.

I see the anger in his eyes.

“Unhand her!” I yell.

I felt all eyes on me.

“Why? This whore consorted with emperor! We can’t just leave her be!” the man argues.

“She has done no wrong! We have taken care of the emperor. All those not involved in his crimes against the people are free of charges”, I said steadfastly.

“This swine worked under the emperor. A whore like he should never see the light of day!”

I hear murmurs around me. Many agree with the man.

Before I could interject, the man slices her throat, much to my dismay.

He kicks her body over the armrest of the throne and leaves her be.

“That’ll teach those boot-licking dogs of the emperor!” the man sheathed his sword. He motioned his friends to descend the stairs along with him.

I stop the group as they pass me.

“I am still the leader of this army. You do not disobey my commands. You have killed a possibly innocent lady who has done no wrong except living and doing her job as she is told.” Something similar to a staring contest started between me and the man. The temperature drops inside the room.

Only a cry of terror breaks my stare.

“D-D-Demon!”

Everyone, including myself, turns to the source of the voice. A bowman, stricken with fear, is pointing above me.

I swing my body around and gaze at wherever he points to. I could not believe my eyes.

The lady had stood up, no longer an unmoving corpse on the chair of the throne bleeding out, she was a living person with an open throat bleeding out.

“Y—you’re supposed to be dead!” the big man beside me accused.

The lady rubs her throat, her hands stained with blood. Her figure becomes enveloped by a golden mist. When the mist had dissipated, all the blood had vanished and any man who hadn’t witnessed her throat sliced open would never believe that she had been dead moments prior.

Her blue eyes, accented with a dark blue glow, dull and indifferent, stare at me.

She descends the steps slowly, each step reverberating in the throne room. I hear the sounds of feet shuffling behind me. The people were all running out without warning. Even the man beside me had gone.

The lady steps off the final step. She walks towards me. My mind is in shambles.

Impossible! I tell myself.

I feel only her presence and mine left in the room. The men under me had all fled.

Someone like he shouldn’t exist.

I stare at her. When she is a mere foot away, I ran.

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POV: Viera Kerss Cil Reoir

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The last man, I believe his name is Mallius, left me.

They probably don’t want a despicable servant such as me. I let my master die after all. He never asked me to fight so I didn’t dare intervene.

I wander aimlessly through the streets, sounds of celebration all around me.

I must find my new master, my previous one is dead.

I’m outside of the capital. I’m walking aimlessly to wherever my legs take me.

All I can do is wander to wherever my new master may be.

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A/N Order of events:

Creation>>>

Serving creator aka first master/mother>>>

Abandoned and accidentally stumbling into another world/lesser realm to serve a god aka the second master>>>

The Second master dies, spent just under 100 trillion years pass in isolation>>>

Past trillion years spent traveling to different worlds/universes (lesser realms) serving under various masters>>>

Present-day, One-shot.

Yeah, that’s a very long lifetime. Well if your immortal and a being that transcends entire worlds and universes itself it’s bound to happen.

This is a story idea. Basically, a girl whose supposed to be immortal, have immense power, and yet be a servant who shies away from free, independent thought and action to be a perfect servant so she’ll [redacted]. The ones that calls themselves gods or goddesses? Yes, they can die with the exception of Viera's creator (you can probably guess what kind of being her creator is, something greater than gods apparently) who created her with the purpose of being a servant, however, the relationship between the two became more familial, I’ll get into that later if the story is created (maybe mid-summer). For whatever reason our little servant gets left all by herself, aforementioned “abandoned”, and become this shadow of who she used to be. If a full story is created, the story will probably take place in the future in a different world. Something to note, Viera' was abandoned by her creator. I mean, if Viera and her creator yet had a mother-daughter relationship, not just a servant-master one, why the hell was she abandoned? Hmm . . .

*Continuation not guaranteed*