Like being birthed from a sea of darkness I awake to a blinding light with a gasp for air. Greeted by a marbled ceiling with red and yellow drapes hanging from it I place my hand over my heart and confirm it’s beating.
“Do-do-do-do.” In a quick succession it takes and sends blood through my body, confirming I’m still alive.”
“...”
I rise out of my bed pushing the covers which hide my frail naked body away and walk to the mirror on the wall opposite of me.
“...”
With a shallow breath I open my eyes and am horrified at the thing which stands before me.
Looking into my eyes is a frail old man whose skin was the color of burnt leather. His white hair overgrown and bushy, his eyes a reflective red showing his age.
I cannot believe the man who I’m staring at is me, I can only wish it was a lie. My naked body which was once a palace of tight muscle as if sculpted by God himself is no more than skin slapped loosely over rusting bones.
Is it wrong to say I want to live longer? Is it wrong to say I wish to be young again? I’ve already lived 290 years so why do I desire more? No not just more, I desire to live forever in my youth. To be strong and beautiful, to have no attachments to another soul or thing, to simply exist for the reason of my own pleasures.
But that is not but a selfish wish, as I’m faced to confront myself in the mirror, a monster which I can’t comprehend as myself any longer.
The only good thing about my current state is that I can say that my hair hasn’t turned white as it always was that color. I remember the first time my wife had grey hair and the anguish she went through.
Yes, I have a wife. A beautiful woman who loves all which she sees, and has carved a spot in her deepest of hearts for me to reside in. A woman named Delphi Plymouth, the Oracle Delphi.
Our relationship is long and complicated, too much to go into at this moment.
In my youth I had many women which you could have called my wife. I had harems of the most beautiful virgins which I had taken from their families and kingdoms as my own. But never have I had a child of my own. Perhaps it’s simply the biology of Holy that is incompatible with human women. Or maybe Holy just have a low chance of reproduction? We’re so rare and far in few between that looking for information on our kind is only a game a fool would play so I’ve never dug deeper into the cause of my nulliparous life.
Not even Delphi bore me a child after countless attempts, but perhaps the God of fortune [Oraius] looked down upon us and gave us that pleasure.
Entering my bathroom I wash my face and brush my hair. Today isn’t a particular busy day so I chose to wear something more casual. When I first became the President of the Venator Society I chose to wear a robe as my main uniform as it gave me the most range of motion in a brawl.
Yes, even just as recently as sixty years ago there was still much violence in the world. Glorious violence, basking in the moonlight which was reflected in the pool of your enemies blood. That was how I spent the first portion of my life, a time I often desire to return to.
Dressing myself in a red long sleeve shirt and black jogging pants I take note of how such a little action is alien to me. In my youth I never wore a single piece of fabric, be it the hottest of days or the coldest of nights. Snow, Rain, drought nothing affected me. I would walk around bare naked, my flesh my armor against both weapons, magic and the elements.
Yet such a thought now makes me shiver, I’m cold now. Always cold no matter the season of weather. A chill running up my back constantly.
With a final look at myself in the mirror I leave my bedroom and enter the hallway. Walking to the Kitchen I see that my wife has already left. Her bedroom door opened with the lights off. Her warmth and scent are nowhere to be found within our apartment.
Though the walls of my apartment are riddled with trophies, artifacts and treasures I can’t help but find the idea of living in such a small space disgusting.
I can’t help but feel disgusted at myself. Why am I so content with such a small castle? Why don’t I live in a monolithic fortress with hoarders of treasure so large it could be used to climb to the moon? Why am I so content with what little I have to my name?
Am I still Francisco Gutierrez Ignius the Demon of Iboria? Or am I El-Saber, the kind wiseman and president of the Venator Society?
Entering the Kitchen I quickly prepare myself a modest breakfast of premade Carne-Asada, A tortilla omelet and boiling black coffee.
Even after all these decades this rather plain meal still sends my taste buds into a frenzy, the only flavour I’d known for so long being the water from springs, bushmeat roasted over a fire and in times of great need the flesh and blood of those I’d killed.
As a child I may have stolen a loaf of bread or a bundle of fruit but once I became old enough to hunt I did so without remorse or hesitation. The greatest of beasts and most ferocious of monsters cowered in fear with the threat of my presence alone.
Looking up from my plate I see the other two seats at the table are empty.
“...”
The distance echoes of my child laughing and telling me of his adventures. My wife, smiling and playing along with his fantasies as I silently watched with a smile carved into my face.
Such echoes grow louder yet farer away everyday, the envy I feel for myself that thought little of those moments and rarely treasured them is overwhelming.
Even when my wife joins me at the table we’re still missing the void that is my son, Hayai.
I remember the moment I found him like yesterday. Following a cry in an alley I found a newborn child wrapped in not but a single thin cloth buried inside a dumpster of filth.
Left for dead I thought it such a waste to let a child who fought so hard to die his efforts never rewarded. So I took him in as my own.
Needless to say, my wife was both surprised and overjoyed, she thought of me as someone who would have left the child to rot in filth. An opinion which saddened me greatly.
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But once again I also felt strange at being hurt by not only her words but my actions as well. Why didn’t I leave Hayai to die festering in filth. Why did I feel the need to reward his efforts rather than laugh at his futileness?
Perhaps it’s stemmed from my own past, of knowing no father, no mother or family. Being alone in a time of countless wars with no one other than my own shadow to accompany me. Perhaps I felt as though I’d be abandoning myself in that situation. But why I had ever thought such a thing in the first place is a mystery. An insult to my past self who would have never even followed that desperate cry of a child.
When it came to our ideas of raising a child we differed greatly, I wanted him to live the same life I once did as soon as he could move. I would throw him to the wild and let him be gnawed on by beasts and beaten by the elements. Let his suffering sculpt him into a man who would know no fear and suffer no defeat as I once had. Let him never suffer those regrets I now hold.
However my wife had a much different approach, that of a modern family, a mother and father who loved him. A meal cooked for him every day and a school to attend. Friends to play with and technology to enjoy. She wanted him to grow up like any other child would.
But such an upbringing would leave him weak and frail, it was far too cruel of a thing to subject any child to let alone my own.
So we compromised, she would give him the love of a modern mother while I would raise him as a proud warrior. However at some point perhaps I changed in my own right.
Seeing him sick, hurt, sad, crying, upset. Such things seemed to reach into the depths of my soul I’d never known and stir up emotions I’d never before felt.
Maybe I had been the one in the wrong, raising him as I did would have only led to the same result I suffered and worse. To be dealt a defeat so definitive and brutal that you lose your very sense of self.
“!”
At that thought I feel the scar on my chest throb, an imaginary pain filling my body. To my physical form it is but my imagination but to my soul the wound is still gaping and gushing blood the same way my body did all centuries ago.
A defeat by the hands of the only man I’ve ever felt mortal terror from. Osorei, the man who made me mortal.
“...”
After a moment of silence I rise from my seat and wash my empty plate before placing into the sink and dressing myself in my long coat and shoes, ready to start my daily errands.
۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞
Cao-Li walked the cold white and sterile halls of the Venator Towers Theta wing. To those patients and subordinates he passed by he offered a warm smile and wave. A gesture which they kindly returned to him.
Though such a thing might seem like a standard exchange it held so much more weight within the heart of Cao-Li. It was a hard reassurance to his sense of self and who he was. The efforts of his many labors.
Being the world's best healer Cao-Li’s presence was constantly in demand around the world. It was a common rumor that he never slept with how busy he was. And while a ridiculous rumor which most scoffed at, it was sadly a believable one.
Cao-Li never took breaks, he never took vacations nor spent time and money pursuing hobbies he didn't have. Cao-Li's entire life and every waking moment was focused on a single goal. To heal those in pain. Those who suffer from diseases or injury, those lost in the labyrinth that is their own mind filled with the booby traps known as emotions.
If someone out there was suffering then how could he possibly relax? It was such a common sense thing that to question it would be like questioning why one would breathe air or drink water.
However despite his clearly outstanding character he was a victim of his heritage and the prejudice it brought against him. Being a child of two 1st generation immigrants from the Orochi Kingdom the racial slur of “Viper” had become but like a 2nd name to him at this point in his life.
An insult even his coworkers and fellow peers threw at him constantly without remorse or reason. Originally such a term would fill him with rage and put a flame in his already blood red eyes. However over time the term “Viper.” Had become a part of his identity.
He was Cao-Li the viper. The Captain of the Venator Societies Theta branch.
Other than his heritage another point of contempt constantly levied at him was that of his
Appearance. His eyes were near constantly squinted and a wide thin lipped smile was plastered upon his face. An expression truly reminiscent of an evil villain.
He was Cao-Li the viper. The Captain of the Venator Societies Theta branch and the man with a villain's face.
His smile was a nervous tick of his, stemming from his desire to please those around him and show his good will. His eyes however were the result of a medical condition he’d been a victim to since birth. That of Photophobia. A somewhat common condition with multiple levels of affects. For some they might have a slight headache in the sunlight and feel as though their vision is blurred. While for those like Cao-Li the rarest of cases his eyes are constantly bloodshot, painful looking veins bursting across the surface further giving him a demonic appearance.
He was Cao-Li the viper. The Captain of the Venator Societies Theta branch and the man with a villain's face. The one whose eyes were constantly red like a demon.
Being the best healer in the world it should have been possible for him to heal his condition. A feat he was more than capable of performing yet refused to pursue. For the expression reason of his personal philosophy.
Cao-Li was Cao-Li. If he healed his condition would it not prove those who hated and judged him right? Would he not be confirming that he was worth no more than his appearance? What of all that hard work and the challenges he’d suffered to reach the point in which he stood right now. Wouldn’t all of those relationships and the reputation he forged through hard work and determination become worthless?
Wouldn’t he prove that he was nothing more than Cao-Li the viper. The Captain of the Venator Societies Theta branch and the man with a villain's face. The one whose eyes were constantly red like a demon. When he was so much more?
He was the man who rose above it all; he was the one who defied the prejudice which those tried to define him with.
He was Cao-Li the viper. The Captain of the Venator Societies Theta branch and the man with a villain's face. The one whose eyes were constantly red like a demon. And the man who proved himself as more than these things.
He was Cao-Li, The Captain of the Venator Societies Theta branch. The world's best healer and the man who never rested. The one who extends his hand to all in need. The one who proved himself as more than what his appearance implied.
Turning down a hallway and opening the first door he came across Cao-Li entered his office. A rather boring and sterile room void of much personality. However upon closer inspection that would be proven false. As if in a sense of unconscious irony Cao-Li hid his personality within the trinkets and decorations of his room. Next to his plaques of degrees and license he had many notes written from children he’d cured over the years pinned to his wall. Under his desk were the pink fluffy slippers a little girl had given him.
Wrapping around his desks lamp was a green dog collar which belonged to the mange infested stray he took in and healed all those years ago.
The old jade chopsticks gifted to him by an elderly lady who's arthritis he helped cure rested in his desks drawer, the utensil he ate every meal with.
These were but a few of the Gifts Cao-Li had been given by his patients whose lives he changed for the better. Those he’d saved and rescued. A few of the things which he treasured to dearly and held close to his heart.
He was Cao-Li the viper. The Captain of the Venator Societies Theta branch and the man with a villain's face. The one whose eyes were constantly red like a demon. And the man who proved himself as more than these things.
He was Cao-Li, The Captain of the Venator Societies Theta branch. The world's best healer and the man who never rested. The one who extends his hand to all in need. The one who proved himself as more than what his appearance implied.
He was Cao-Li, the kindest man in the world.