It is sunrise, and I will be dead before nightfall. So, before I draw my final breath, I must record my thoughts before they are gone forever.
.
I started with nothing but promises of greatness. As an urchin, I used my clairvoyance to nick food and money, child's play when you know the storekeeper's hours. The times when harm was inevitable, I nursed my wounds while dreaming of the heights I saw in my future. I knew one day I'd be the most powerful man in the region, the Monarch. I'd be with a wonderful woman, my equal in power, and we'd rule a vast underground empire. Though, knowing the opulence and unfathomable riches of the future made scraps of the present unappetizing in contrast.
I knew what waited for me. I joined the syndicate under a false name. I bloomed, rising through the ranks on brutal knifework, precise marksmanship, and poison. Seeing the future at will made my tactical direction without equal, and few could outfight someone who could see their moves before they're made.
Few.
Once, when I was rising in ranks, but hadn't taken command yet, I knew there'd be a "friendly" brawl between officers in a month or so. In truth, the head would use it to choose her successor. I saw that I'd take a close second to Okazaki, a talkative brute who thought pleasant smiles equal to strategy. Unacceptable.
I knew how I'd train so I pushed myself harder. If I built a bit more muscle beforehand, honed for agility, sharpened my accuracy, maybe I would gain the upper hand. So I devoted myself to it.
I felt a... vehement bitterness when he bested me. In the end, it was just the confirmation of what I already knew, that what I saw was unavoidable. It's difficult to describe, feeling like you can subvert a future that's already decided. It sounds foolish when put into words. I saw that I'd injure myself through overwork, yet thought I could do the same action without the same consequence if I were just more careful. And in the end that sealed my loss. But could anyone know they'd lose and do nothing? To feel victory brush against your fingertips yet slip out of grasp, who wouldn't reach for it? Is there not something innate that drives you to fight? Okazaki's gracious words just rubbed salt in the wound. "Good match Teio, train harder and you'll pin me down next time!" But he was just a stumble in my brilliant marathon, I soon forgot him.
The night before I changed my life, my hands trembled with exhilaration and I grinned without prudence. I played those scenes through my head, over and over. Slip the poison into the head's drink, timed to kill when she met with us officers. I could hear her words as we left her alone with the heir. "You're strong, and your men are loyal, but you are not ready yet." And the false shock I'd perform when we returned.
How magnanimous he must've thought me! Offering token counterarguments to the council of officers who wanted him dead while stoking their fury, visiting his pitiful cell and feigning condolence. The excitement for what's to come filled me. My clairvoyance would hand me the throne.
Even through his execution, he thought me his ally.
.
I took power without contest. The others addressed me as the Monarch from then on. Our old leader used her name, but I began the tradition of titles. Of course, not everyone was satisfied by my rule, but nullifying their death threats were simple work. The smart ones noticed how their rivals would die to my blade. "Self defense," I would claim. And the more clever malcontents would pass away in the night.
The troubling one was Kazunari. I could see his face hovering over me as I died, decades later. I spent many nights ruminating. Would it be better to chase him down? To take him out before he could fight back? But that would blossom vengeance in him, make him hunt me down with unbridled fervor, would it not? Yet if I left him alone, he would join the resistance of his own volition. Moral outrage he'd say, objection to what I did just to survive. If I did nothing, he'd have the full support of the resistance to train. I didn't see that in my future, because the future was already set. I acted, knowing I could set him back, even execute him. I just had to keep that servant of mine from doing anything stupid.
I devoted myself more to managing the threats to my life since my empire expanded with ease. My territory neared that of a rival syndicate, and skirmishes along the border rose to a fever pitch, but I was happy.
Because I'd meet her soon.
.
My subordinates called me in to assist, I had another night of restless sleep, and I spent the next day cutting through enemies. Then, finally, I met their leader. She was as breathtaking as she was in my dreams. Sharp, delicate eyes regarded me warily, barely visible through the bangs, and framed by the dark hair cut just above her shoulders. Today, she wore a deep maroon dress with thin, white flowers and, of course, signature black gloves.
One day I'd ask her, "Why white chrysanthemums?" and she'd answer "They're for my adversaries."
She tensed when I stepped towards her, hands hovering over her catalyst, until my weapons clattered against the floor.
"I don't want to fight. We'd be more effective united."
"Unconvincing from someone who killed dozens of my men to get here."
"You did likewise, but I'm not one to hold grudges." I stopped just an arm's reach away from her. I slipped off my glove and offered my hand.
"You can check my sincerity, if you'd like."
Her suspicion heightened, mixed with faint confusion. Her expression was unreadable to most, but I've viewed our future so often I picked up how her eyes subtly narrowed for a moment, how her lips flickered into a frown briefly. I've no doubt she didn't understand why I showed no fear, and was unnerved by the possibility I knew what she could do. But despite that, she reciprocated, slowly pulling off her glove and touching her fingers to mine.
A tender understanding passed between us. She took my hand into hers, and we gazed at each other with ardor. I smiled, and although her face remained still, her eyes filled with warmth.
"I'll take you up on that offer." She said, then sealed the agreement by calling my name. Not Teio, not Monarch, but my true name.
I, a man who knew the future, joined hands with her, a woman who read minds. Peerless until our union, we finally met someone who understood. Could anyone else grasp what it was like, living with abilities like ours? When I look upon my subordinates, I see a crowd of future corpses. I see my officers act with fealty now, yet know they'll betray me tomorrow. When she mingles with her people, she parses their loyalty, malicious intent, indecision... strengths to make note of and weaknesses to exploit. She kept her true name secret for the same reason I did mine. These people aren't our equals, they don't deserve to address us as such.
She wasn't interested in physical intimacy, but the intensity of our emotional connection was unparalleled. We shared a bed, and when I embraced her, when I interlaced my fingers with hers, she confirmed the depths of my devotion to her. My name belonged to her, and hers was mine.
.
We entered an era of unrivaled success. We consolidated power and territory and people with ease. She developed a spell that bent will to our whims with a simple crest. Neutralizing threats became a trivial pastime.
But it was not to last. I knew she'd die before me. From illness, not poison or war. Whenever I gazed at her, I admired her beauty and grace, but the adoration was marred by a persistent thought, "How could things just end like that?"
I consulted doctors before she even showed any signs of ill health. I asked if she wanted to know, she answered yes, then I told her. She took it better than I did, and immediately began preparations, promoting officers and training her replacement. I told her I didn't want one, but she insisted.
Then they started. The doctors reassured me, but by my intimidation they monitored her condition and considered preventative treatments. She tried to comfort me. She knew nothing she said would help, so she quietly held my hand. Days, weeks, months passed. I noticed as her fingers thinned, despite how I tried to stop thinking about it, I couldn't help myself. The gesture was tainted by dread.
The doctors avoided me, and tread on glass when they couldn't. I'd studied some medicine, knowing this would happen. Despite taking my anger out on them, nothing I knew helped either. I could explain her condition clearly, detail everything that caused her pain, but there was nothing I could do to soothe her.
I asked if she wanted to know, she declined. I knew she knew anyway, but she didn't want to hear it. She kissed my hand and continued her work as best she could.
She had no appetite. When she wanted to hold my hand her fingers only twitched. Her voice, which used to be so clear and sonorous, was so weak now. The days we had left together dwindled. My desperation reached its peak. In her last moments, she told me she wanted to be alone with me, but I insisted something could still be done, even as she implored me with my name. She died in my arms.
.
Knowing this would happen did not prepare me for the pain. You'd think that being aware of this from the moment I gained consciousness would steel me for the loss. Going over it ad nauseum during the weeks leading up to her death should've numbed me to it. That's what I thought too.
The doctors finally convinced me to let go of her hand. I had a meeting with my officers I didn't want to attend, but she would've wanted me to, so I went.
I found out that Mesmer had trained Kazunari and his friend for combat against my wishes, and that they'd escaped. I knew this would happen, I'd meant to prevent Mesmer from doing so, but the past months had me occupied. Was it that time already? I should have been furious, but I could barely manage a proper rebuke.
Night fell. I finally returned to our bed, now, only mine. I laid in it, staring upwards.
I had all the answers already, how could I make a mistake like that? How incompetant I was, knowing exactly what to prepare for, yet being caught unaware regardless. Worthless! Utterly worthless, every power and privilege and resource at my fingertips, yet I'll still lose everything because I was fundamentally inept. If only I tried harder... But what does it mean for me to try? The outcome was fixed from the start.
I reached out, seeking comfort, and was met with the cold. I cursed my own instincts for reminding me of what I already knew. I'd seen how I'd react, my sleepless nights alone missing her warmth. I thought I was prepared, but seeing the future did not mean I could comprehend the scale of grief. I understood only once it crashed over me.
I drew my knees in towards my chest. The bed was too big for one.
.
Part of me rejoices because I'll join her soon, but more than anything I am afraid. My death is certain, I know this, but I know not of what happens after I'm killed. I can't grasp what it means to stop existing, except that I see nothing after Kazunari ends my life. That inky nonexistence is all that waits for me, the sensation of being softly pulled apart as your consciousness fades. To dissolve, to vanish forever, I cannot accept that.
Even as I see our confrontation, every move of his I cannot avoid, every rightful killing blow of mine counteracted by his own ability, I won't let myself die so easily.
Even though I know my death is inevitable, even knowing the terror of being overpowered and killed, I will fight against it with everything I have.
Even knowing that my life will end today, I want to see tomorrow.