"It Hurts."
"Haha. Well, it'd be worrisome if it felt nice, wouldn't it?"
Caught amidst the densely packed woods of the Cantimire Forest, Yovin felt his knees shudder weakly as he traipsed alongside his Sponsor. Taking step after painful step, the Chroma rushing to suffuse any muscular atrophy his exertion had tolled, he pushed on against the painful aching that threatened to overtake him.
Noticing this, his Master slowed his own pace, joining his protege's side before remarking on his state.
"Don't give in, lad. In time, it'll feel as natural as breathing. But for now, just focus on each individual step."
"I don't... I don't think I can go any further, Darian." His frantic breathes were like gales of wind, supplanted with Chroma as they were. Every movement in such an enhanced state threatened to break him if he was even slightly misaligned with the flow broiling his nervous system.
"Yes you can. You are stronger than you know. Remember the path we took? You did all that through your strength alone. Never forget that." Darian motioned behind them, showing the sequestered route that led away from the Depths of the Forest and into the thralls of Esquire that seemed like an impossible distance away. The sight gave Yovin enough confidence to reach the peak of the Hill his Master had deemed a proper resting place.
Once he reached it, giving way for the Chroma to expel from his body, Yovin collapsed in a sweating mass on the earthen ground beneath his feet, earning a hearty chuckle from his overseer.
"Good, good. See? As long as you can maintain focus, anything is possible." Darian offered him a slick canteen filled with water, to which the child lapped furiously at, taking scant breathes between massive gulps that rejuvenated his parched throat and withering muscles.
"Calm down, boy. It isn't going anywhere." Softly chiding his protege in his haste, Darian joined him on the patch of dewy undergrowth that marked the end of their excursion. After a short while of recuperation, Yovin returned the canteen with barely a mouthful of liquid left inside it.
"S-sorry. I drank it all." His face alight with embarrassment, Yovin nodded his head as he apologized.
"No need. It is a fitting reward for your vigor. Good job." Darian offered a satisfied grin, to which Yovin continued to bask awkwardly away from his line of sight. While his Master offered plentiful words of encouragement at times, those instances were rare enough to tinge his discomfort.
"So, does this mean I can finally use it in a fight?" Yovin's eyes lit up with wonder, hopeful to see his Sponsor's acquiescence after what felt like eons of pleading and begging.
"Hmph. While you have become more adept in your overall efficiency, it is by no means a proper benchmark. There are still so many foundational skills you must internalize before you can use Chroma against another living being." His dismissive answer tempered Yovin's hopes, leaving him feeling frustrated by the dismissal.
"But I've passed the test. I thought I was capable now!" Yovin stood aloft, his hands clenched by his sides as he fought against the childish instincts pushing him on. Even still, waiting on his Master's guidance had grown quite tiresome, which forced his naive mind to make a stand.
"The fact that you believe you are capable shows me that you are anything but. Chroma isn't a weapon, child, but an instrument. Play it to it's proper tune, and you unlock it's inner workings. It is not a force to be used as a bludgeon against those you disagree with."
"I know that. But..." Yovin's voice faded as his confidence withered, his eyes shuddering away from his Master's gaze. Within them, Darian took notice of his pupil's desperation.
"Why are you so eager, Yovin? What aren't you telling me?" Darian situated himself besides his student, a rare look of concern marring his grizzled features. Age and conflict demeaned his once handsome face, acting as a reflection of the turmoil he warred against. The same turmoil he believes Yovin faces now.
"I'm just... so angry. All the time. And the thing is, I don't even know who to be angry at. People are so hateful and disgusting, and yet I still recognize those same traits inside of myself, so I end up getting sad when I think about it too long before coming back around to being angry again." Yovin curled his knees against his chest as he exhaled the thoughts flooding his mind, the burgeoned feelings he held back coming out in a wave of emotion that wasn't lost on Darian.
"And you think the proper response is to answer their hate with violence?"
"No! I... I don't think that. But, I'm able to use Chroma now, thanks to you. I thought it would make me stronger. It would help me prevent what happened to my Parents from happening again. But it didn't change a thing. That anger is all I can latch onto."
Darian ruminated on his pupil's words for a moment, letting the calming winds of the Cantimire Forest emphasize the feelings Yovin was acquiescing to. It was a paradox he had come to know all too well. And recognizing that same fury in his adoptive son lit a fire in his soul.
"Yovin. I won't attempt to emphasize with your pain. That is something only you can carry. But there is still meaning in that struggle. It may take your entire life, but at some point, you will realize that the anger you feel will only destroy your ability to enjoy the things that truly matter."
"So what am I supposed to do? When will I be able to smile again without the thought of my own life being a disgrace? Why do they hate me so much, Darian? Why?" Tears began to dribble down his Pupil's face, accentuating his childish features all the more in Darian's eyes. At barely 10 years of age, his student was already battling against such poisonous sentiments.
He couldn't answer. The Truth was beyond him, beyond anyone. But that didn't mean he couldn't impart his own personal wisdom.
"The answer you look for doesn't exist, Yovin. We are all, each of us, searching for it, even though in the end it isn't what we truly want. The Anger you feel, and the hate they show, are of the same kind. And once you understand that, you can finally begin to forgive."
'Forgiveness? What a naive thought. This world is a Cudgel to which such ideals are annihilated .'
Wiping the tears from his eyes, Yovin found a semblance of understanding in his Master's words. Nowhere near the answer he hoped to receive, but a conclusion he could come to given time. Even he recognized that. The bile and bitterness that accumulated within his short life left it's mark on his soul, but there was hope for a new perspective to be born inside of him.
'Perspectives are like the Changing Seasons. The passing of time limits all of from it's boughs. No two are alike, and yet, all of them are in harmony with each other.'
"I'm sorry for crying. And thanks for talking with me. I think I understand a little bit more."
"No apologies necessary, child. You are brave for confronting those emotions head on. There are Men who live their whole lives without looking introspectively as you have done. It will lead to a greater peace given time."
"But remember this. When all else fails, and the darkness begins to take it's toll on you, remember that you were loved, and are loved. There is meaning in that sacrifice."
'What a touching sentiment. Given by a man who lived and died by the Sword. In essence, a falsehood.'
'What you seek, and what he found, are diametrically opposed to each other. Facing oblivion, or harnessing eternity.'
"Thanks Darian. I feel a little better now." Yovin stood from the grassy floor he had contemplated with his Master upon, dusting the remnants of forest undergrowth from his pants as he did so. In that moment, he shared a glimpse with his Teacher. One that marked a newfound understanding between the two that would redefine their relationship going forward.
If only such a relationship had any chance of survival.
'I think it's time you woke up, Yovin. Fading through bygone memories is only enjoyable for so long.'
Between the cusp of bittersweet recollections and the reality he had been dragged back into, Yovin took his Master's words to heart. Even if he were to die, there would still be evidence of the line they drew that day.
To seek a Greater Love amidst a World that epitomized it's desecration.
'What will you become this time, I wonder? It's always a wonder seeing the paths you take, the growth you foster. But in the end, you will always return to me. That is how this story goes, after all.'
'Just don't keep me waiting.'
~
Through the mire of unending dreams and swampy memories, I felt an edge of consciousness relapse back inside my mind. A fleeting thing, a small, inconsequential aspect of those that came before. But for me, in this moment, it meant the world.
As I felt my faculties return to me, in that shadowy place, I pondered on the nostalgic feeling this situation aggrieved me with. Between life and death, I had stepped between this paradigm many times before, although I could barely remember the process such a phenomenon ordained.
Words and thoughts of people I had never met, lives I had never lived repeated itself relentlessly in this hallowed tomb. The Murky blackness that surrounded me faded in and out of focus, like a camera lens abstracting it's subject while in view. Sight and touch were fictitious concepts here in this stasis, but a close approximation I had settled upon nonetheless.
Akin to being born anew, I once again became aware of my arms and legs, the hair on my head. The Horns that marked my creed. Going through the motions, the pasts of thousands of years of lived experiences offering me their assuredness, I began to take what I had known and integrated it with what I didn't.
The memory I shared with Darian, the loss I experienced at the hands of those who persecuted me. It became so much clearer in this twilight space. Sensation no longer existed, but even still, the pain continued to burn bright. Bright enough to melt away the surrounding malaise that threatened to subdue my psyche before I could emerge once more.
I felt fear, and longing. The Path I was set upon would be filled with endless hardship. But after millennia of such hardship, my soul had grown accustomed. Or rather, the imprint of resilience bore it's mark on me as the light faded in once more.
As the voice pondered again and again, I would take the mantle of this life as I had all the others. Through strife and suffering, the Voice carried on. Giving me it's strength and guidance, but for what purpose I couldn't tell.
There are Gods here. Slumbering and Ancient, watching over me with a keen interest and a steady eye. Imperceptible in their grand embrace, yet present all the same. Gods that time and Man had forgotten, but within me they lived on. The Voice spoke it into being.
'Take all that you are, and cast it away."
'Bring back what has been lost. For the Sake of something new.'
'Hold them close, shelter them. Be the Light to which all others are bewitched by.'
'Kill until none are left standing'
In that twilight space, between life and death, I came to a penultimate understanding.
I am a sword to be wielded. No matter the age or circumstance, the powers I have been given were the same throughout. A fleeting call that burgeoned me onwards, forever and always.
And yet, I still remembered that bittersweet softness. The embrace of the one I longed to be besides. I would forget everything, but that sensation would continue to leave it's mark upon me.
It told me something I had yet to hear from my captors. That I was destined for more.
Even as the World burned, as ages passed, and as Nations crumbled, that love still persisted.
I had hoped I would live long enough to see her again, just one more time.