I stand before Langet road’s entrance gate,

I am stuck between entry and escape,

I look up at the stars; they’ve watched to date,

Am I but a memory in bad shape?

Stars were there to pierce the darkest nights,

I used to hate them, now I watch with pride,

I stare at the sky with wonderous sights,

I have been here for too long just to cry.

I now look at the stars, not with wonder,

My desperation tears me asunder.

My body is not as it once was. No, it is a mimic of what it could have been. It is an idealistic version of what I was like – my body is at its absolute prime and yet feels slow and shallow. It has been forged from materials that no human should touch, preparing me for what is to come. I have no collar, no reason to enter, and yet, I can feel it once more. The sadness. The pain. The anguish. The despair. The curse is taking its toll on my mind once more, and yet I am still but a memory. I must be, for how would I be alive? I can remember everything; I remember my time away from Savra, I remember statue and all the wonders he brought to my life. I remember that this world is full of mysticism and excitement, of love and passion – emotions so positively blinding that now I can see, I was truly the villain of humanities story. I lied to myself, thinking that I was just or righteous in my actions and killings. A work of art, a way to teach the world a lesson, to force humanity to change and grow – all my thinking is flawed and broken. I am flawed and broken. A mess of cuts and souls. I thought my legacy was to be the guiding light of this world; a beacon to all those who live to show them that I, Fa Fumerunner, am to be remembered. Never forgotten. Remembered for eternity in the hearts of every torn family and community I ravaged with my ill deeds.

I see clearly now; I killed not just for my entertainment or enjoyment, but for something much more primal. I thought emotions are stupidity incarnate, and yet my actions were dictated by emotion. I never feared death, I feared being forgotten. When I was to die for my crimes, I was relishing the fact that my name would go down forever. I would be remembered forever. My name and actions would be seared into the very fabric of society and reality, but by searing humanity, I branded myself a villain.

The stars are beautiful; holes poking through the black canvas of night to light and guide all. No matter who you are, monster or human, the stars are there. Look at me, idealizing the light that broke my precious night sky. I truly have changed. I truly am broken. I truly am no longer Fa Fumerunner by any extent. The only connection I have to my old self is my memories and Savra who glistens under the starlight. I wonder what type of monster I will become. The Watcher said that I would maintain my memories yet be stuck in a state of constant hunger. Monsters; I have seen very few of them on my travels. I thought there would be more in the tunnels – I heard they were booming with them but alas, they have stayed away. Good, I do not wish to kill anything. In Fael, the monsters were plentiful, but hidden. They were creatures that could move the fumes around through either the beating of wings, the swinging of limbs, or long and powerful breaths of air. They don’t appear in dreams, and for the most part, would stay away from humans. The only time they would approach is when hunting, or if a dead body was left out and they had time to find and scavenge it. There are many people who travel the planes heavily armed with the goal of eradicating every monster they come across. Such a job was considered noble and necessary, and thus monsters have been hunted and hunted. I wonder if that was needed. I wonder if this was all just a means for humanity to take over.

What we do is not natural. We all have our natural planes and locations, of course, but how we treat the planes… perhaps we are the ones at fault. The plane of pastures has been created to suit our needs, yet the native plants that once took up the space and grew in perfect harmony have been cut back and considered weeds. They try to reclaim their home, and are destroyed in the process. The plane of purity is filled with impurities from travelers who come in and out. Such things change over time, yet could the constant shipments of goods that need to be purified be taking a toll on the plane? Why did it exist beforehand? How was it created? Magic? How is the plane of potential possible? How can magic exist? Yet it does, and I am living… well, assumably living proof of it. Finally, the plane of pleasure; what is pleasure? Humanity has created so many different definitions of pleasure, and each person experiences it in a different way. How can something give pure pleasure? How can anyone experience that? I once thought torture and killing gave me pleasure, but now I can see through that façade.

Everything is woven together is a masterful tapestry that I cannot comprehend, so who am I to question how we got here? Who am I to fight against the Watcher – perhaps humanity needs to be threatened. My feet are throbbing with pins and needles. My legs ache from standing and yet, I still cannot move. I need… more time to think. The night is still young.

Thinking about my time, there were a lot of developments in ways of capturing criminals. Indeed, it is through violence and threat that humanity grows and develops with the most haste. When the threat is on the horizon – rulers and captains know about the Watcher if I recall. They must know he will remain in Langnet’s road for only so long before deciding to exit and decimate the world and yet, nothing is done but give it a steady supply of victims. The world changes, and all people care about is Dreg. A threat is looming, and all they want is more Dreg. I was killing – threatening the flow of dreg and thus, every bit of effort was put into developing so I could be captured. I cannot help but laugh, Dreg is the very foundation of the world, and yet it is Dreg that is killing it. A crystallized form the blackest and evilest of souls. I wonder what colour my soul is now, or if it even exists anymore.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

So, with all this in mind, what am I to do? I could go away. I could escape from deathrows march and never return. I could be free once again until temptation potentially takes over and I return to my old ways. I highly doubt that will happen, but it could. That is a terrifying thought. I have caused enough harm – and also, if I don’t walk the road, Gan will. He has suffered too much for my selfishness and should be free to begin mending the pieces of his shattered reality and mentality with me gone. Thus, I have only one option – to return. I have no supplies. I have no goal or reason to make the march, and yet I must.

A deep orange and pink begin to seep into the night sky – morning is rapidly approaching. No, let the darkness be my guide. I was born in the light, but I stayed in the dark. The plane of purity in many regards made me who I am, and yet there are so many moments where I could have made a decision to change, and perhaps the plane would not have let me – perhaps I was too far gone but… there was a chance. A fleeting chance that perhaps, I could have switched the other way and been someone truly good. Someone who is remembered not for the evil I have committed, but for the many good deeds I have created. No, this is wishful thinking – nothing worth dwelling on. It is time to exit this plane and return to my new home. Return to my new friend. Return to the march. I grab the door handle and heave it open. It should creak, but instead, it moves smoothly. Soundlessly. I walk inside.

Each footstep is louder than the last. My heart is racing, yet is calm and still. I am a walking oxymoron, but it just makes so much sense. I let the drape fall, I have no need for such things, for I will not be exiting this place the same man I once was.

Countless eyes once again open and watch my each and every move. Pupils twist and twirl in my direction with a laser focus. The road burns with a purple flame – a flame that sears my flesh with waves of coolth. Waves of warmth – the warmth of an embrace.

“I am here, Watcher. I have run for too long. I have made others suffer for too long. I have tried to change my fate and legacy for too long. I am here to accept my fate.”

I walk forward. I am ready to die, to grow, to be redeemed, to be irredeemable – to accept my fate.

Purple.

Flame.

Eyes.

Life.

Death.

Black.

White.

Vibrancy.

Dullness.

Life.

Death.

Legacy.

Memories.

Souls.

Purple.

Hatred.

Anger.

Rage.

Love.

Power.

Happiness.

acceptance admiration adoration affection afraid agitation agony aggressive alarm alarmed alienation amazement ambivalence amusement anger anguish annoyed anticipating anxious apathy apprehension arrogant assertive astonished attentiveness attraction aversion awe baffled bewildered bitter bitter sweetness bliss bored brazen brooding calm carefree careless caring charity cheeky cheerfulness claustrophobic coercive comfortable confident confusion contempt content courage cowardly cruelty curiosity cynicism dazed dejection delighted demoralized depressed desire despair determined disappointment disbelief discombobulated discomfort discontentment disgruntled disgust disheartened dislike dismay disoriented dispirited displeasure distraction distress disturbed dominant doubt dread driven dumbstruck eagerness ecstasy elation embarrassment empathy enchanted enjoyment enlightened ennui enthusiasm envy epiphany euphoria exasperated excitement expectancy fascination fear flakey focused fondness friendliness fright frustrated fury glee gloomy glumness gratitude greed grief grouchiness grumpiness guilt happiness hate hatred helpless homesickness hope hopeless horrified hospitable humiliation humility hurt hysteria idleness impatient indifference indignant infatuation infuriated insecurity insightful insulted interest intrigued irritated isolated jealousy joviality joy jubilation kind lazy liking loathing lonely longing loopy love lust mad melancholy miserable miserliness mixed up modesty moody mortified mystified nasty nauseated negative neglect nervous nostalgic numb obstinate offended optimistic outrage overwhelmed panicked paranoid passion patience pensiveness perplexed persevering pessimism pity pleased pleasure politeness positive possessive powerless pride puzzled rage rash rattled regret rejected relaxed relieved reluctant remorse resentment resignation restlessness revulsion ruthless sadness satisfaction scared schadenfreude scorn self-caring self-compassionate self-confident self-conscious self-critical self-loathing self-motivated self-pity self-respecting self-understanding sentimentality serenity shame shameless shocked smug sorrow spite stressed strong stubborn stuck submissive suffering sullenness surprise suspense suspicious sympathy tenderness tension terror thankfulness thrilled tired tolerance torment triumphant troubled trust uncertainty undermined uneasiness unhappy unnerved unsettled unsure upset vengeful vicious vigilance vulnerable weak woe worried worthy wrath.

Life.

Death.

Watch.

I see. I see so clearly. I understand. This - humanity is wrong. Humanity needs to change. Nature is screaming for help, screaming in pain and no one can hear it, but I can. I can hear it so loudly. I can feel Savra and my souls becoming one - yet there is so much more to us now. Dreg, huh? We are no longer such a simple, crude thing. We are a swirl of colours, a combination of lives. We are the hand of death, and the beacon of life. We are humanity's villain, yet nature's hero. I understand why I was born. Why I exist. Why I am here. For now, I must watch. I must plot. I must wait. I will strike. I will bring order, I will remind humanity that the world is in pain. I will drive humanity to greater heights by making them suffer for what they've done.

I must be a watcher.

Together with the watcher.

I am the Watcher.

We are the Watcher.

https%3A%2F%2Fi.imgur.com%2FcnF4Utf.png [https://i.imgur.com/cnF4Utf.png]