literature

Chapter Five: Trat's Struggle

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Lunch was ready. It was time to wake her up. She’d been asleep for nearly three days, after all. Must be nice.
I assumed it was nice by how serene her face was. For a moment I just stood there, admiring her. I remembered that when she woke up, I would have to bury the tendency to stare at her for the sake of seeing her. I did it for centuries, even before I became what she called her Voice.
Perhaps that’s why I haven’t woke her up yet. That means I would have to talk about what happened with the wings. I don’t know how exactly to approach that, what with how oblivious she is. Maybe that’s for the best, since she obviously doesn’t feel the same as I do.
For all these centuries, I have watched over her, protected her, even though I am the only person that I know of that’s aware of her weakness. I supported her in everything she ever pursued, even her own demise. I have only ever wanted her to be happy, with the hope that one day, she would allow me to return to her side. Perhaps, I thought, on that day, she would feel the same way that I do.
Of course, that would be too easy, wouldn’t it?
And besides, her oblivious nature is one of the things that drew me to her in the first place.
To admit it plainly: I have been in love with her. When did it start? I really don’t know.
She muttered in her sleep. I went to the bed and stared down at her face, tempted to touch it, and marvel at how soft it felt under my fingers. It wouldn’t wake her, would it?
But, no. When I finally do touch her, it will be by her request.
For years, I have thought about what I would do if ever given the chance to spend days by her side, like in the old days, where I was a monster, and she was a friend of my ancestor. Only… I don’t want her to take care of me. Not anymore. I don’t want her to treat me like a child, like she used to. She saw my weakness. My fear that the urges to kill would take over again, and that the stain of blood would curse me again…
I don’t want her to remember that about me. I don’t want her to feel like she needs to protect me. I want the roles to reverse. I want to be the only one who could destroy her, and the only one who will ever know how. I want to be the one to shield her from anyone else who could ever harm her— because the premise of her weakness is so damn simple, it’s crazy.

I had been immortal for all of a week, and we were living a cushy life, just as she’d promised. That was not what had drawn me in, though. It was an obligation, a feeling of destiny, that made me join her, at first. And then I began to see past her façade. She put on a face of adorableness, and of innocence… but also happiness. She was completely opposite that, though. It was a tragic realization, for me, but having known just how long she’d been alive, I wasn’t shocked.
It wasn’t her beauty that made me stare, although it certainly helped. Perhaps it was the feeling of being in the presence of a bigger monster than myself that made me see into her. Not as a human, but as a creature dead to the world.
“Why are you staring at me?” She asked sleepily, and I couldn’t drag my eyes away from hers.
I came closer to her, staring into her eyes intensely. “I could kill you, you know.”
Her eyes widened in fascination and fear. She couldn’t speak.
“Does that scare you?” I asked, wanting to touch her face, which suddenly seemed so much more delicate. “You look like it does.”
She opened her mouth, but no words emerged.
“The thing you’ve chased is before you, and yet you can’t bring yourself to ask for it. I wonder why that is?”
“How could you kill me?”
“I suppose any way would work.”
“Then how did you not kill me when we met?”
I thought about how to tell her. “I’ve changed since then. In more ways than one.”
She nodded. “Why are you telling me? Do you want to kill me?” She whispered that last, and I couldn’t help but to smile at how terrified she sounded.
“I will only ever kill you if you ask me to. And only then if you can do one of two things.”
“Being?”
“One would be to kill me as well. The other would be that, if you couldn’t kill me… put me in the realm you took my ancestor from. “
She smiled. “Deal.”
For a moment, I thought she was asking me to kill her, and I felt a pang of fear and anger. I wanted to leap away from her and scream at her for wanting me to hurt her—but then I realized that, were I to do that—she would not understand my reaction.
“We’ll keep it a secret between us.” She said. She rubbed at her eyes and yawned.
My fear melted away. “Deal.” I felt myself grow weak from the sudden weight of worry being lifted from me. “Go to sleep. I’ll guard you.”
“From what? You’re the only thing that can hurt me, now.”
“For now…” I said. “I suppose I will guard you from me.”

Years passed, and she put my ability out of mind. She eventually told me that she was afraid to go back to my Home realm—afraid of what she’d find. I understood, and reminded her that the deal still stood. A death blow for a death blow—but she couldn’t agree to it. Hope blossomed in me that, perhaps, she did feel the same way for me, and the reason she couldn’t agree was because my love for her was requited.
This hope died a horribly painful death when she met a man named Rome. She told me that I was her only friend—and that she felt she was ready to interact with humanity, to see if it would make her feel better. She said that living day to day was great, but she needed purpose—and she found it in Rome. He made her feel special, not even knowing her powers.
He became her lover. I remember the feeling of my blood pounding painfully through my veins. Feeling the agony of rejection, the feeling of that carefully tended flower of hope being torn up by the roots and burnt as kindling.
I hated Rome. But, for her sake, I never spoke of him, ill or otherwise, even after his “untimely” death of natural causes.
But his death hit her hard. She plunged deeply into an even more desperate depression than before. One that I couldn’t even pry her out of.
I hated Rome even more for dying.
I wanted to tell her to open her eyes! I wanted to make her feel the feelings I felt, but I knew that, if I did, she would only compare me to Rome, and she would paste her feelings for him onto me—and that was not what I wanted. I didn’t want to replace Rome—I wanted to be the only one who could hurt her.
That was the problem. Rome was perfectly capable of killing her just as I was.
The bond between two people can make all the difference. One who feels nothing can accomplish nothing. One who loves nothing can feel nothing.
She finally fell in love with someone. Even if that someone didn’t love her back, they would be capable of killing her. As for me, I love her with every fiber of my eternal being—and so I could kill her as easily as she could kill a normal human.
But when Rome died, she lost her will to live, or to interact with anyone, even me. She told me that she was going to put herself in the destruction realm to erase her memories. I told her I wouldn’t let her. She told me I didn’t have a choice, and I punched the nearest wall, as hard as I could. I screamed at her, “Why the hell don’t I have a choice? Because of you, I’m immortal. Anything you do is going to affect me—so don’t you DARE tell me I don’t have a choice but to let you forget everything!” I stopped myself from saying “everything about me” by only the smallest bit of luck.
She just nodded. “I’m sorry. But, in that case… If you want to help me.”
“Yes. I’ll help you do anything.”
“If I could bind you to me, so that way I won’t be alone?”
“You know I won’t leave.”
“No. Not that. If I can see your face, my memories will come back. That’s how it worked when we met, too. Even now, I still remember things…”
“You are serious? You really want to forget everything?” I couldn’t help but scowl. “Even me?”
“I need to. But you will be there. I just won’t remember who you are.”
Not much can be more painful than what she had just said to me. “Will you be happy?”
She shrugged. “I hope so.”
I sighed and looked at her, trying to hide how hurt I felt. “Then I’ll do it.”
She opened the door to the Creation Realm and ushered me in. A bond between us was created, and I could now break myself down, at will, and guard her. But I lost my form, and with it, any chance to be her lover. But I knew by now… that it would never happen.
Until now, perhaps. I shook off the weight of my memories and looked down at her again. “All the hell you’ve put me through, and I still can’t hate you.” I said, letting my scowl become concrete. “It’s time to wake up.”
This should shed some light on who Trat really is, beneath that cold facade. Is he going to tell Zetty? How will she react?
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