Prince of The Abyss

After realizing his grave mistake, he didn’t say a word. He stood still, the shadows around him looking at him mockingly, ready to see what his response would be. What excuse would he come up with?

Maybe, just maybe, if he tried hard enough, he would have found one. Doubt it, it’s hard to justify something coming into existence. But he didn’t try to explain himself. He would normally, but after all, he was here to be reborn.

[...]

The silence was everlasting. The old man stared at him, suspicious of the mysterious child. But he tried not to think much of it. Maybe it was his power. He had never heard of something like that, but who knew?

So he broke the silence with a laugh.

”That must be your power, no? Creating clothing?”

It was... a pretty useless power, but who was she to judge? His own was that animals were attracted to him, which was completely meaningless with time frozen.

But as he looked back at the child, he raised a brow.

Even now, he was staring at the ground, completely frozen; he didn’t know why the boy had reacted like that. Maybe he was insecure about his abilities? That would make sense.

But if he had to say, it wasn’t such a bad skill to have. Yes, it wasn’t any good in combat, but he could very easily get a job as a tailor. Maybe even become quite famous one day.

With the possibility that the child was feeling bad about his powers, he tried to consult himself.

”You know, I think you’re quite skilled with your ability. I’m sure someday you will become so famous, you’ll be making clothes for the queen! Mark my words.”

He had hoped this would lighten the mood, but it only resulted in more silence.

So he just decided to let the kid be; it seemed as if he didn’t want to talk about it. So he shouldn’t continue.

But as he was about to continue eating. The child stood up, his face pale as if he had seen a ghost, and slowly made his way over to him.

He didn’t know why he was doing this. Wait, maybe his words did get to him, and he was just trying to give him a hug, that way he can let all his emotions out.

He extended his arms out, inviting a hug, while closing his eyes to feel the affection of the small child.

’Come on, kid, let your emotions out, I’ll listen.’

But nothing happened.

But as he was about to open his eyes, he felt someone bury their fingers into his neck. He panicked, opening his eyes to see the child strangling him to death.

He tried to stop him, call to him, but he couldn’t. He was old and didn’t have the power to stop him.

But why did it seem like the child didn’t want to do this? He was crying, his face kept twitching between a mad smile and a terrified smile. It was as if he were fighting for control with himself. But he didn’t have time to think about this; he was... dying after all.

But nothing would work. His vision blurred as he slowly lost his last specks of life. Memories of his time while time wasn’t frozen, spending time with his daughter and wife, making a living to provide for them. Living a happy but not outstanding life that he had always wanted, the life that was stolen from him when the world froze.

Did he regret the time being frozen? He didn’t know. He was on his deathbed when it happened, so either way, it wouldn’t have changed much. On the contrary, he got to live more.

Yes, his family had left him, but he was able to continue the slow and relaxing life he always loved.

So did he regret it, did he regret not killing himself like his wife and child after realizing that time had come to a stop. Yes... he did.

He was selfish and continued his life without a care in the world for the one he loved. So then, his dying here isn’t his murder, but his salvation. And he was happy... that it was given to him by someone so precious.

He didn’t know where the child had come from. He just found him; his body had many scars, as if he had gone through a treacherous battle. And even after his wounds had healed, he didn’t wake up.

He also didn’t know who he was. But he was sure he was a good kid. He actually pitied him; children truly had it the worst. It was as if their life had ended before it even started, not being able to go through the wonders of living and growing up.

He also didn’t know why he was doing this. But... he was sure it was for a good reason.

With his soul slowly leaving his body, he extended his arm and caressed the child’s cheek, his tears falling on his hand.

And smile, as he died.

[...]

Aether threw up, staring at the dead body of the old man on the ground.

He didn’t know why he was feeling this way, but at the same time knew very well. He had killed a man. But many before him suffered the same fate.

He regretted his decision, yet felt relieved, even ecstatic.

He wanted to cry, but at the same time laugh.

He was cut in two.

It was hard to come up with a decision on what to do. A part of him wanted to achieve his goal of becoming someone he is not; it was conviction that was driving him. And the other wanted the same thing, but was unsure. He wanted to kill him, but at the same time didn’t want to.

That was why he froze for so long, why he was crying but at the same time laughing. He was two people, and the two people were him.

It was a battle with himself, which one of them was going to be him. The one driven by conviction, or the other, by hope, a desperate kind of hope. And in the end, these battles always end with the so-called evil winning.

Because the part of him that was unsure of killing the old man was also unsure of not doing so.

He clenched his fist.

Did he mourn his decision? Yes, but also no. Just like before, a part of him wanted to cry; he didn’t have a real reason to kill this time. Before, it was his hatred for nobility. But the old man wasn’t a noble.

And the other was happy, because it had proven to the other that he really can change. With conviction, he can and will be reborn.

[...]

Aether relived his memories, thinking of anything he could have done. At the moment, he was regretting what he had done. Most of his conviction was over, and all that was left was the grief.

He only woke up when he remembered his situation. He was inside a godspawn book. And if he continued to lament over the death of someone he had just met. He wasn’t going to get far.

So he manipulated himself to forget about this. And as bad as it sounded, it was the right thing to do.

It was bound that he would have to kill others inside this story, and he couldn’t let himself be filled by sorrow each time he took a life, and leave himself vulnerable.

...

As much as he wanted to hate the part of him that was happy about killing the man, he knew it was right; he knew that if he continued without it, he would fall in battle. And never get back to the real world.

He had to let go of himself, of the only human part of himself. To not be scared of being called a monster, and learn to use his conviction. That was the only way.

After all, it was the same for knowledge ranks. If you wanted to get stronger, you had to let go of your humanity and become

a beast.

...there was a long silence. The old man would have probably broken it with a laugh if he were here. But he wasn’t, so Aether decided to take his place.

He laughed. But his wasn’t like the cheerful laugh of the fisherman, the annoying laugh of a grandpa.

It was more terrifying, a mix of emotions that were bottled up inside of him, screaming to be let out. At first, he didn’t even recognize that it was his own. But there was no one around him.

Not even the abyss was with him. He would have expected the damn avater created by his affinity to appear, to mock him and drive him even more mad then he was. But he didn’t. He truly was alone.

Just him, and the shadow watching him.