Surrounded by a large and bustling city, a grandiose ivory castle stood adorned with crimson embellishment, it's giant spires Peircing the sky and casting a shadow onto the land like the spears of a giant.
Inside a room graced with similarly blood red adornments, a young man sat on a chair made of dark wood and cushioned with red silk.
Sunlight passed through the windows, casting a golden glow on the white tiles of the room.
The man was around 24, or maybe 25. He was lean and extremely well sculpted, had olive skin, brown skin, and vermillion eyes. He was wearing pure white clothes untouched by filth of the world.
The man was... beautiful, inhumanly so, his skin was completely unblemished and so smooth that even water may slide off it without leaving a trail.
His vermilion eyes seemed to glow slightly. with a sharp jawline, he seemed to be something a artist would sculpt on a statue, seeking perfection.
He looked at a dagger in his hand as he shifted in his seat, his calm eyes carrying a glint of coldness beneath them.
He then sighed and then opened his hand wide, letting the dagger fall which then disappeared in a whirlwind of smoke before it even hit the ground.
His vermilion eyes shifted to look at the person in front of him, an imposing and extremely handsome man in his late 30s, he had black hair and tanned skin, wearing unassuming white and brown clothes, he involuntarily straighten his back when the man's gaze landed on him.
"It will start the moment you make the first move. sir, believe me when I say this... I know who can, and cannot be kept in your reign"
The red eyed man looked at the man in his thirties and said with a unknown, supressed, emotion.
"It wouldn't matter either way"
His voice seemed to be absolute, filled with conviction.
"Because once the thrones change, only thing that would matter is my own strength"
With that, it was as if a switch had been flipped, his presence suddenly seemed to overwhelm anything to everything in the room, his Existance became.... Disconnected to the world, as if not entirely existing in it. The air around his body began to change, as if his existence was effecting
the world around him.
***
Vale's hazy eyes caught the sight of the floating ball of flesh filled with hundred or so eyes.
His situation seemed bleak, in merely a minute or so, he would be knocked out from bleeding and die.
He once againt tried to stand up, he tried to put strength into his legs, his left leg had gone entirely numb. if not for the fact that he saw his leg, he would've Thought he lost his leg. his right leg hurt like hell, there were several deep cuts on it and his foot was badly mangled.
His torso had several deep cuts and bite marks as well as a exceptionally deep bitemark on his right shoulder, his right palm's index and middle finger had been bitten off.
He grit his teeth through the numbing pain and used his left arm which had relatively less injuries compared to other parts of his body to move his body forward by digging his fingers in the ground and pulling himself forward, his body leaving a trail of blood on the ground.
His hope was dimming more and more by the second, his chances of survival seemed bleak and his life was flickering before his very own eyes.
The idea of trying so hard when he wouldn't survive was like screaming in the depth of an ocean, pointless, unheard and unrecognised.
Was the angel of reincarnation real? If so, would he be reincarnated, given another life? Freed from the shackles of this pitiful, anchorless Existance?
Just like he thought before, he did not have a goal, a conviction or some grand desire.
He liked sweet things, he didn't like people who push others down and he did not like the summer.
But that was simply 'likes' and 'dislikes', those were not reasons to live, thinking back at it, he never really had any, did he?
It was simply that an anchor existed in his life to stop his from getting lost, be it his friend, his money, the director of the orphanage or heavy labour he did to boy new clothes.
He pulled himself closer to the pond, his determination wavering.
His achivements and emotional moments of life flashing before him.
Not being able to speak had never come to him as a 'disability' to him, it was always like he was just different then others, he had never wanted the ability to speak. It was good if he had it, but he was just fine without it. He had never thought of himself as 'lesser' or 'incomplete'.
But now he was...
He pulled himself closer mad closer to the pond, his thoughts drifting across his mentality, his ideology and his motives.
He had none, which was the final conclusion he made after a single look.
'when.... If I die here.... Will i disappear?'
The only person who truly remembered him, his friend, was dead, the few people who knew his name had either died in the city, would think he died or would simply forget about his existence, he was sure of that.
If he died here, he body would simply be devoured by eternals, and every trace of him would simply be erased from the world.
It was a little scary to think of. To know that just like him, there have to be many, hundreds of thousands of people who must've died, unknown by anyone.
He didn't really feel much about it, thought. He honestly never was a type of person to feel things like existantial crisis or hate himself over the filth of sins.
His bloodied hand gripped the edge of the pond and with one pull, his head peeked over the edge to see clear water, he could see the bottom of the rather shallow pond, it was only about a meter in depth.
He refocused his eyes to stare at the water, and a bloodied, dried face filled with pain stared back at him.
His gray eyes seemed dull, his lips were quivering with pain.
Then, with one more pull, he pushed himself into the water, determined to kill the damned vail.
As his body hit the water, the water was quickly diluted with a mixture of red and black blood. His clothes seemed to have soaked quite a lot of it as the pond seemed to get more and more diluted without any signs of stopping.
As he slowly sunk in... Under the embrace of the clear water, his body relaxed, his pain was slowly getting numb. And strength suddenly left his body, his body slowly sunk below the surface, and as it hit the bottom, bubbles came out of his mouth at a steady pace.
Under the almost comforting embrace of the waters, vale's almost entirely hazy mind cleared slightly, and an answer to a question came to his mind.
He had wondered why he was trying so hard when running away from the eternals.
As his eyes stared upwards, a wisp of crimson energy flickered in them
He was wondering why he was trying so hard when he didn't have anything to do so.
But now he had a answer.
The reason was.... Simply because he wanted to live.
Not because he was afraid of death, even though he was.
He wanted to live not as in 'not die' but actually live.
He wanted to know what the true meaning of 'living' was,what was it's defination and he wanted to enjoy the worldly pleasure like others, he wanted to not only understand what it was to live but also experience it.
That was the reason he was trying so hard.
As soon as he found his reasoning, his kind seemed to clear up entirely, and a crimson energy envoloped him in its comforting embrace, not like the waters 'comforting embrace' but true 'comforting embrace'