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Enju looked through his mind's eyes as he stood along a broken field of battle. It was always like this, another nightmare to be live through as he did battle with himself, every sun. It certainly took its toll on him, as the fields changed, having much more time to devote to this now.
It was Gridania, this time. He watched as scenarios of the past played in front of him. He looked toward the prisoners that were held by Neruhm, some died, some lived. What mattered is that they were all the same, the ones that he saw, that he knew. Jainelette had lost her mind entirely, yet they simply kept her locked up in a cage. A cage whose bars was too weak for someone like her. Her escape was known to him, but it was too late to do much now, or so he thought. The Wailers proved to be incompetent at best, corrupt at worst. Yet nothing will be done now that good men are gone.
We did what we had to, but in the end? Nothing's changed. We 'saved' them, only to damn them to suffering or worse for however long they live. Was it the right thing to do to even spare them? The Wailers, well. It seems that all those who say they serve to protect are little more than wolves who prey on sheep.
A figure approached him, the familiar one as a form took his figure, though it had no features, just an avatar of lightning surrounding an invisible frame. His fears, his inner dragon, taking many forms, and able to produce much when it comes to visions and nightmares.
"You know little of what you are now, don't you?" His words got caught in his throat, lowering his head. As he took that stab to the heart once more, and let that hatred of the curse flow through him, he couldn't help but admit the voice was right.
Have I lost my purpose, now with what has happened? Are people just unable to learn. What purpose is there with so little to follow?
Who am I...?
It was Gridania, this time. He watched as scenarios of the past played in front of him. He looked toward the prisoners that were held by Neruhm, some died, some lived. What mattered is that they were all the same, the ones that he saw, that he knew. Jainelette had lost her mind entirely, yet they simply kept her locked up in a cage. A cage whose bars was too weak for someone like her. Her escape was known to him, but it was too late to do much now, or so he thought. The Wailers proved to be incompetent at best, corrupt at worst. Yet nothing will be done now that good men are gone.
We did what we had to, but in the end? Nothing's changed. We 'saved' them, only to damn them to suffering or worse for however long they live. Was it the right thing to do to even spare them? The Wailers, well. It seems that all those who say they serve to protect are little more than wolves who prey on sheep.
A figure approached him, the familiar one as a form took his figure, though it had no features, just an avatar of lightning surrounding an invisible frame. His fears, his inner dragon, taking many forms, and able to produce much when it comes to visions and nightmares.
"You know little of what you are now, don't you?" His words got caught in his throat, lowering his head. As he took that stab to the heart once more, and let that hatred of the curse flow through him, he couldn't help but admit the voice was right.
Have I lost my purpose, now with what has happened? Are people just unable to learn. What purpose is there with so little to follow?
Who am I...?