Cracks

[Blade]

(This takes place the night before the gala event)

 

The hallway was dark. Barely lit. The ceruleum powered lights were dimmed low, and as he walked, Blade could not more than a couple yalms ahead.

 

It took him but a moment to remember what he had come here to do. To slay the man who had ruined his life. He quietly brandished his axe, and inched as quietly as possible down the hallway. There was not a sound in the hallway but the click of his boots on the floor.

 

He paused upon the sounds of a boy crying somewhere up ahead. He quickened his pace, but still took care to remain quiet.

 

He came to the door. Where his target would be. He could hear the boy crying in the room. Blade pressed himself up against the wall, gripped his axe tightly, took a deep breath and then jumped around from the corner and into the darkness.

 

A thick, sticky substance clung to his boots as he entered. Directly ahead of him stood a blonde boy wearing a bandana, with messy short hair and raggedy clothes. Was in his early teen years. The room was dark, but two candles were lit on a desk, their light serving to provide these details.

 

Blade shouted. âWhere is he!?â

 

The boyâs cries stopped suddenly, almost as if on command. The boy slowly looked back towards at him, a deep darkness in his eyes. Blade could see that the boy had blood splattered across his face, and Blade looked down to his feet and caught a glimpse of a dead Roegadyn.

 

âBy the Twelve⦠youâve killed him,â Blade said, in his astonishment. The boy looked back to the body at his feet, and then looked up and straight ahead of him.

 

âYouâve forgotten,â was all the boy said.

 

Bladeâs eyes widened. âThis isnât possible⦠we canât be⦠here, together.â

 

The boy began to cry hysterically, and loudly. âYou FORGOT! Left me behind, HIDING ME AWAY!â

 

Blade frowned in disbelief. âWhat are you talking aboutâ¦? This⦠canât be happeningâ¦.â

 

The boy let out a cry again and then turned to run towards Blade. His arms extended wide, he ran to Blade and began to hug him around his waist. Blade placed his hand on the boyâs head, and looked around. Looking to the boy again, Blade said, âWeâll figure this out, youâllââ

 

Blade gasped as he felt the sharp sting of a dagger planting deep into his side. He felt paralyzed, and the boy looked up at him slowly, with dark, red eyes. Blade attempted to move to throw the boy off of him, but instead the boy pulled back on the dagger sharply, tearing it through Bladeâs abdomen. Blade dropped his axe to the ground and fell backwards on the ground, grimacing, panicked from the pain. He brought a hand up to his face, with trails of blood connecting his hand to the wound.

 

The boy stood looking at him in the dark, blood dripping from the dagger, his eyes narrowed on Blade. âIâm just doing what you really want to⦠what you need to do, to set things rightâ¦.â

 

Blade grimaces at the wound. âYouâwe⦠youâre crazyâ¦.â His vision grows blurry, and he tries to push back away from the boy.

 

The boy frowns and then walks to Blade slowly, gaining on him. The boy grabs Blade by his hair and holds his head steady, the boyâs eyes glowing red. The boy gives a crazed grin, âAllow me to open your eyes⦠and light your flameâ¦.â Bladeâs eyes widen as the boy raises his dagger and thrusts it down towards Bladeâs eye.

 

*****

 

Blade jerked up from his nightmare, his vision stained red, hitting his back again the seat on the Astalicia. Instinctually, he whipped out a silver throwing axe to defend against his would-be assailant. But all that greeted him in the bar were the confused, irritated stares. It took him several momentsâwith his heart pounding loudly in his earsâto realize he had been dreaming.

 

A scruffy, bearded Hyur shook his head at Blade. âBloody hells lad⦠not tonight.â The pirate then returned to his conversation.

 

Blade held the throwing axe in his hand, trembling, and then slowly lowered it towards the table, letting it fall from his hand. The blade end struck first, leaving the weapon stuck in the wood. His hand fell to the table with a loud thunk, as though it were lifeless. Blade let out several deep breathes and his vision slowly returned to normal. The rest of the pirates in the Astalicia turned from him, shrugging, and eventually they went about their business.

 

He let his eyes fall to what lay in front of him, and his hair, unkempt, fell to the front of his face. The nearly decoded memoir. His eyes crawled over the paper, taking in the curves, the shapes, of the letters, yet not reading. He knew the meaning now at simply a passing glance at the paragraph. So deeply had the revelations been burned into his mind.

 

The shakes. The trembling was growing worse. He shook his head, and reached for the nearby rum bottle, half empty. Taking several large drinks of the bitter liquid, he put the bottle on the table and shut his eyes, gripping the edge of the table with his hands, and trying to steady his body.

 

He suffered much in the depths of his mind. He had spent most of his life hating his family, for something they hadnât done. For, something that wasnât their fault, and something they didnât want.

 

He could hear his heart in his ears. Something was wrong. It never felt like this before. It was a strange, uncomfortable sensation. An insatiable bloodlust, some sort of feral instinct.

 

But what worried him the most: he was beginning to like it.