KILL HIM !
KILL HIM !
KILL HIM !
KILL HIM !
KILL HIM !
And hearing the echo of his own tormented voice inside his mind, one full of sound and fury, one commanding him to KILL that ash-blond creature in front of him, Elwin knew that this was the moment of truth where he could be the author of his own destiny.
Lucian had robbed Elwin of his happiest years while others could frolic and dance all they wished in the auspices of childhood; Lucian had hurt him, maimed him, anguished him; destroyed the love and hope that Elwin had; it was Lucian who made Elwin fearful to dream of dreaming. Yet, despite all that, Elwin persisted and survived. Every painful step forward which he took despite Lucian was a testament to his inner strength and indomitable soul. Those steps had now culminated into a path towards the summit of a mountain, a mountain which Lucian had not expected Elwin to climb. And now, at the precipice of victory, Elwin and Lucian were on that same ledge, and Lucian hung on the sides of a precarious fall. All Elwin needed to do, and wanted to do, was to push Lucian off that ledge, to condemn him; to declare to the world and all its bullies that they deserve nothing but the most painful, agonizing death for preying on the innocent; to announce to everyone witnessing his story that this is the fate which meets all evil. Such a statement was good – no, necessary.
But was this the meaning of his name?
Elwin’s gripping hand shook with all its might, all of its force thrusting downwards, the only thing keeping the lance from striking down upon Lucian’s exposed throat being the single thread of thought that hung above it: the story that Elwin wanted to write. He had declared to all of Aeternitas that he shall be a beacon of light to all those who come to him for help and to all those who come to him for freedom: that this shall be the meaning of his name. Headmaster Abraxas commended him for choosing a path where he did not resort to killing to achieve his ends; Professor Aionia above all told him that his past has no right to imprison the shape of his soul. If he killed Lucian now, the world would be rid of the ash-blond bully forever, but in return, he would once again be allowing the fury of his past to wrest his quills and carve out a litany of blood into his tale. Is this how he wanted to be remembered – Elwin Eramir, who killed Lucian? Not Elwin Eramir, who could become the greatest of the greats that the world would come to know?
And yet, in the face of the vengeance that he wanted more than anything in his life, every consideration sounded like such idle complaints. All about his head echoed with the howling of demons, of incandescent wrath. Elwin would be fully in the right. There was no one to stop him. They were permitted to duel to the death in the tournament, and this would be his triumph. For all Lucian had done to him, how he robbed Elwin of his youth, Elwin could now, finally and once and for all, make it right. Only by perishing at Elwin’s hand could Lucian absolve himself. There was no greater salvation allowed to Lucian’s tenebris soul than dying by the hand of the one figure he tormented the most. The FOUNDERS, witnesses to everything, would agree.
The demons of his mind wailed louder.
BRING DOWN THE LANCE!
BRING IT DOWN UPON HIS THROAT!
EXPUNGE HIM FROM THIS EARTH!
HE WILL DO THE SAME TO YOU,
IF YOU DARE CHOOSE NOT!
MAKE YOUR JUST REVENGE!
REVENGE FOR YOURSELF,
YOUR MOTHER AND YOUR BROTHER!
SEIZE YOUR JUSTICE!
YOU ARE ONLY RIGHT!
But piercing that cacophony of howls, memories of Mirai’s voice reached him.
Yes... she was one of the few people that did not judge him for what he wanted to do – what he willed to do, because she had experienced the same.
“The world can’t demand that you forgive Lucian, because forgiveness is a thing that only you possess the right to make. But provided you have the chance for revenge against forgiveness...”
“I ask you to make the right choice as to who you want to become.”
The demons in his head retorted in cackling mockery.
WHY DO YOU STAY YOUR HAND?!
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
FINISH WHAT YOU HAVE BEGUN!
AVENGE YOURSELF AND YOUR FATHER AT LAST,
ELWIN! ELWIN ERAMIR!
Elwin shut his single eye.
The rest of the kismets, and Robert, Khan, and their squadras suspended mid-fighting, flinched as Elwin made his motion to bring down the lance.
And on its descending path – with the utmost of effort – his arm appearing to move a thousand tons of steel – Elwin hurled his lance sideways onto the cold hard stone next to Lucian, shattering it into a dozen pieces.
Crystals of ice crackled around them both and dusted their hair, heads, and robes.
Elwin stood still, in the stance of mid-throw; Lucian heaved in an astonished breath.
“I’ll never be like you,” Elwin announced to Lucian, turning away, his cape billowing behind him.
Elwin gritted his teeth; the interplay of light and shadow sizzled on his brow, contorted with a will impossible to anyone but himself.
I am the author of my destiny. Not you, Lucian.
And you shall never be like me.
Lucian had lost;
And Elwin had won.
* * *
With the fury of the storm finally spent, with his refusal to give into the vengeance he thirsted, Elwin held his bleeding head and collapsed onto a seat of a broken pillar. Stars swam in his vision.
Lucian crumpled to the ground, clutching his chest, his robes and armor bloodied, his face plastered with the blue of bruises.
No soul in that temple-chamber uttered a word for a good minute. Their fighting spirits had been frozen over.
“Why, Lucian... Why? Why must we fight like this? Why must we seethe and rage in each other’s presence like mortal enemies?”
Lucian spat sideways and looked upon him pitifully, his forehead bruised and bleeding. He was silent.
“SPEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAK!” Elwin burst out, making a harrowing roar ladled with the anguish of his robbed youth. He had stayed his hand; but it was no recompense for the answers he sought - answers which were never given, but instead shrouded themselves behind the desert of the real. “SPEAK, YOU COWARD! SPEAK IF YOU HAVE A REASON! I HAVE DONE ALL I COULD TO MAKE MY WAY, MAKE MY WAY UNDER THE TORRENT OF YOUR HATE! DON’T JUST SIT THERE AS IF YOU’RE AT THE TOP OF THE WORLD! LOOK AT EVERYONE HERE, LOOK THEM IN THE EYE, AND TELL THEM WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO ME, WHY YOU’VE DONE TO ME!”
Elwin's words exuded such agony that no one else could hope to chime.
Lucian wiped away his mouth with his sleeve.
“From the moment I met you, Elwin, I’ve always hated you,” he commented, looking onto the floor.
Everyone listened in incredulous silence.
“You... you unblessed bastard from a do-well family... no inborn blessing with his Maht to speak of... every day you would come to school and cling like a rat to your father and his legacy... to defend your family when no sensible person would... even though you were pummeled, bullied, ousted, over and over... you defended your father knowing all too well of his stain upon this world, how many people whose lives he robbed. Your persistence disgusts me, Elwin, because you are someone who doesn’t know his sin, and instead revels in defiance of that fact. That is the reason.”
“...Wh – What?” Elwin shook his head, exasperated at the words he was hearing. “What does me not knowing my sin have to do with your hate, you itinerant imbecile? Why should I carry the sins of my father? Was I the one to lure the peoples of the world to embark with him? Huh? WAS I THE ONE?” spat Elwin, indignant at the rhetoric that everyone used to make him suffer.
“Screw you, Elwin,” Lucian mocked, launching a globule of his bloody spit in his direction. “You took that sin upon yourself by defending your father. You took that sin upon yourself by rending the scars of your victims afresh and afresh, day after day, arguing that the lost lives of their mothers, fathers, brothers, and sisters were all for a purpose when there was none. You are a liar and thief, a pirate of all pirates, clinging to a mirage of your own making, a mirage of your father in all his glory, when there was nothing to redeem under that accursed façade. Broadened the horizon of experimental philosophy? Broadened our knowledge of the world? Don’t kid me. Don’t deride me. You can’t fool me, though you may fool those without sense.”
“Huh,” Elwin sighed, nodding his head. “I expected nothing less. What about your father then? What makes him so great?”
“THIS IS WHY!” Lucian lashed out, pounding the earth with his hands. Everyone took a step back, utterly surprised by the force of his delivery, which rang off the walls as loud as cannon-fire.
“THIS IS WHY I HATE YOU! LOOK AT YOU, HAVING MADE HIS WAY, ALL THE WAY HERE, TO THE PINNACLE OF THE PINNACLE, THE CHAMPION-TO-BE, HAVING DONE THE NEAR-IMPOSSIBLE, TO HAVE CLIMBED SO FAR, TO HAVE MASTERED THE DANCE OF THE SPARKS, TO HAVE MASTERED THE MELODY OF THE GRAINS, TO SING THE SONA AND SONIR WITH ELEGANCE ABOVE ALL, STILL BEHOLDEN TO THE SHADOWS OF THOSE BEINGS CALLED FATHERS! SPARE SOME DIGNITY FOR YOURSELF, YOU MAGNIFICENT DOLT! DON’T TELL ME YOU CLIMBED ALL THE WAY HERE JUST TO EMULATE THAT CALLED CARL ERAMIR, TO RENDER YOURSELF A MEASURING STICK TO PROVE THE GENERATIONS ABOVE! DO YOU HAVE NO RESPECT FOR YOURSELF, FOR WHO YOU ARE? DO YOU HAVE NO RESPECT FOR WHO YOU WANT TO BE?”
Elwin’s eyes went wide.
“What... are you saying...?”
“WHY DO YOU PERSIST IN THE MYTH OF THE FATHERS, WHEN THEY HAVE DONE NOTHING, DO NOTHING, AND WILL DO NOTHING FOR US? MONSTERS DISGUISED IN FAMILIAR FLESH, CLOAKED IN THAT COMPASSION CALLED ‘LOVE,’ THEIR LEGACY UPON US NOTHING BUT AGONY AND TARNISH! BREAK FREE, ELWIN! BREAK FREE OF YOUR FATHER, FOR THE SAKE OF YOUR BEING AND FOR ALL THOSE WHO BESEECH YOU! TASTE THE FREEDOM OF YOUR OWN SOUL, TO BE UNCHAINED FROM LEGACY! YOU HAVE THAT CHOICE! YOU CAN MAKE THAT CHOICE! YOU ARE NOT ROBBED OF YOUR FAMILY AND BROTHER LIKE I HAVE, CONDEMNED IN ETERNITY TO RUN, RUN, AND RUN, RUN WITHOUT BREATH, RUN WITH THE KNOWLEDGE THAT A PAUSE WILL BE YOUR DEATH AND EVERYONE YOU CARE FOR!”
Tears began to pool in Lucian’s eyes; it was the first time anyone at Aeternitas had ever seen a glimmer of tears upon him, and Elwin finally noticed something he hadn’t witnessed before, because he never cared to look upon them and he hated Lucian with all his heart:
Lucian had the same scars of time etched into his cyan eyes, the very same as his.
It was just like his own when he looked into his mirror, just like Mirai’s, just like Isaac’s, just like his mother’s.
Lucian continued.
“Your father robbed me of my elder brother, and my father our family. You are the living reminder of the paradise I’ve lost. You are the reason why my little sister and I have to run until we die. And yet, blessed with a common life, blessed with a new beginning, blessed with the chance to break free from the shadow of your father, you chose instead to cling to it, fawn over it, grovel at his feet like a slave. To see you do that without question, without him asking you to... you are so empty of your own will and heart that it makes me sick, it makes me want to vomit, it makes me want to erase myself.”
Elwin could not speak; no one could.
“That maybe, if your father didn’t exist, if my own father did not exist to torment my sister and I, if I had the chances you so ungratefully enjoyed... then I could have won in your stead. I could have defeated Ursus, I wouldn’t have had to beat or lie or curse or steal to get where I needed to be. That maybe, just once... if there weren’t such wicked people who exploited the desperation of others to force their hand...” Lucian wailed, crushing the stone in his hand, “THEN I DIDN’T HAVE TO LIVE THIS WAY, I COULD HAVE MADE THE NAME OF ‘LUCIAN’ INTO WHAT IT MEANT, THE NAME I FORGED MYSELF!”
The hall was silent and still, Lucian’s anguished sobs cleaving the air with palpable sorrow.
“And now... I can’t go back, can’t, can’t, can’t... without me, my little sister dies... we will never see the light of day again... I have to fulfill the task forced upon me... I have to fulfill it... forgive me, Rayo, Cassius, Claudia, for making you see me in my despair... please forgive me, FORGIVE ME, FORGIVE ME!” Lucian hollered, as he bolted his way to Elwin just a feet away; and from the inner folds of his sleeve, conjured a thin obsidian blade, and thrust it as hard as he could into Elwin’s chest.