Chereads / The Vicissitudes of Life / Chapter 107 - CVII

Chapter 107 - CVII

I am almost giddy with excitement as I set forth from the shop, at a pace which is more akin to a run than whatever speed would be appropriate for traveling through the city at midday. With every person I bump into, I bear another complaint, but I couldn't care less; for today I shall be free of that which haunts me.

Immediately I am caught up with the plans of what I shall do afterwards. Obviously I must first leave this city, it would be all too easy for Lector to track me here. But once I have left, I could use my leftover gold to register with a different name at some far off city and continue as an adventurer in the empire; or, I could be done with adventuring and do whatever I please; whether that be to relax or to pursue my goals, I will have the luxury to choose once I am free of this crushing weight upon me.

To be free! For the first time since entering this wretched world, to possess the ability to do whatever I please without suffering compulsion, whether literal at the hands of owners or essentially existent as in the actions that I have been forced to take to escape the shadows of Lector. And actually, I am still able to suffer compulsion by his hands if he were interested in ordering me around, by virtue of my name which he holds under his control. Yes, my point holds; with this renaming I shall be free of this plague of compulsion, this bondage which impedes progress towards my goals.

Freedom to pursue my goals! No longer shall they be placed on the backburner, I shall be able to pursue might without cease, the greatest asset towards both of my goals; for with might I shall insure my life against the dangers of the world which would act against me; and so too, may I use this might to enact my justice upon this world and all who partake in its wretched corruptions.

I can imagine it now, taking on a handful of quests a year to maintain my funds, with the remainder of my time dedicated to training. Decades, spent with only my sword and my spells, pursuing these high arts until I may emerge mightily! Or perhaps even centuries, for the rising of one's level results in an expansion of lifespan, centuries spent training and slaughtering monsters until my might reaches the level I desire, now wouldn't that be just fantastic?!

Let it never be thought that I am lacking in dedication; for no degree of fevered chasing towards my goals could ever see me become tired. I am willing and able to pursue power, and with it my goals, if only I have the opportunity. And the one thing which stands as a mighty and terrible impediment to this pursuance of power is the hold Lector has over me, both in my name and the evil method by which he may undo any progress I make towards power at a mere whim.

[And that last blockage on the road to my success is about to be lifted! Soon, I shall be free to pursue my goals with the single minded determination that will best maximize my chance of success!]

With that thought, I come up to that door which marks the entrance to the mighty sorcerer's abode. If my hope was in possession of a hesitant quality before, now it is filled with joy; for now, my hopes are soon to be fulfilled as I am freed from this curse which was so cruelly placed upon me by the one who I counted as my closest friend and ally!

I knock thrice upon the door; and when I am not provided an immediate response, I begin to pound upon it incessantly. Immediately, my hope is replaced with panic at the thought that there may be something that should hold off my freedom for even one more day, some obligation or absence of that grand sorcerer who is so instrumental to my schemes.

My panic is, of course, unwarranted. The type which I would like to attribute to madness and move on, thank you very much. This unwarranted panic of mine makes itself known clearly on the door until it is relieved through its opening.

"Hello," the butler, same as the one last time, says, without a hint of the annoyance he is probably feeling. "How may I help you?"

[As if you don't recognize me,] I think, giving a mental snort for good measure. Then, out loud, I say to him "I am here to employ your masters' business. He gave me a quote a few days ago, and I have collected the funds in that time."

"May I see evidence of these funds? My apologies, but my master is quite pressed for time, we cannot allow just anyone in who claims to have appropriate funds."

In response to this, I pull a massive sack of coins out of my dimensional storage ring, uncinching its mouth so as to allow the butler to observe its glistening contents. [You know, I don't recall this happening last time… though perhaps I have only forgotten, a lot went down at this door in order for me to acquire entry, perhaps I was at some point required to display my funds and have only forgotten…]

"Yes, this looks good. My master is available, I could take you to him now… or did you have another time in mind?"

"Now is fine," I answer calmly, not wanting to allow my eagerness to creep too clearly into my voice. After all, who wants to do business with an overly eager partner, one would suspect a scam or an otherwise un-advantageous deal.

"Very well then, this way if you will," he says, beginning to lead me through the mansion once more.

Where upon my last visit I had been absorbed with the richness of the place, now I can only focus on my own eagerness, my desire to hurry forth to the sorcerer as fast as my feet will carry me, to hurry forth to my relief from this submissive state!

Of course, in my eagerness, the already long path to the great sorcerer feels ever more lengthy, a journey of no more than a few hundred yards stretched to one of several miles in my anticipatory mind.

Ever longer, ever longer, though winding corridors I wade, past decorations elegantly made, through tunnels of opulence I pass, by paintings lined in mass; and ever longer still, until, finally, I am informed we are before the room my elusive host currently occupies.

The same as last time, I believe, though everything blends together; and in such a large abode, one can only assume that he holds a particular liking for this room of his, a liking for some aspect that makes it stand out from the thousands of other rooms that populate this comically opulent palace of pure purple and gold majesty.

Or perhaps I am overthinking things; perhaps in a house to lavishly empty as this, he is only capable of filling out a single room with his thin frame and valued possessions; as for the rest of the house, it merely exists so that he can claim to have it, rooms of endless and unused opulence while there are those in this very city which cannot even afford a single bare room a night at a time in the most dangerous part of town. While I would always welcome an opportunity to curse this world as wretched, even I must admit that Earth had, at times, appeared the same, with the wealthy holed up with unused wealth and no intention to share it with those in greater need than themselves.

Of course, we had never solved this problem on Earth, it would be rather unreasonable to curse this world for the same. Even with Earthly knowledge, it is no easy fix; especially when one keeps in mind that the ideology that sprang from the envy of the poor towards the wealthy resulted in an ideology responsible for the most deaths in the history of Earth; not an easy fix, indeed.

That said, I will only call it unreasonable to curse this sorcerer, rulers in a similar position as he may be cursed until my dying breath. This sorcerer utilized his hard earned power to initiate a business that provides him with ludicrous wealth, how could I begrudge him that?

In the end of the day, this is merely a mansion owned by a good businessman, a businessman with essentially no employees, no less; no one could ever accuse him of exploiting the lesser classes to obtain his position or wealth, it is a result of his own power and intellect. When one compares this to a king living in such a manner, neglecting his duties to the people, it is a far more egregious sin than a desire to hold onto what is one's own.

Of course, I don't really care that much in any case. I hate this world and its inhabitants; rich and poor, noble and commoner, all are equal before my justice, for my justice is blind. Perfect justice, distributed evenly to all of this world's inhabitants; for none are innocent of the sin of building this world which has orchestrated my oppression.

Even the poorest child has contributed to the environment and atmosphere of this world to some minute extent, he is as guilty as the richest of kings and the mightiest of demons in my eyes, the eyes of justice. None are innocent in this world; even he who fights for a better place has still participated in making this world into what it is, even if it would be worse without him, the end product is still wretched, and at the end of the day he is just another architect of this awful place. Yes, none are innocent in this world; the only path to innocence again is to stand against this world; to stand for its downfall and destruction; to stand for the annihilation of all of its peoples. Only then may one be cleansed of their sins of helping create and sustain such a place; only then may justice be delivered.

And as of yet, I am the only one who has moved towards this goal, towards justice, towards standing up against this world and all its peoples and what they stand for. Rather ironic, since I am also the only person in this world who is pure and spotless of the sins that have made it into what it is. And what is it? An evil place which has oppressed me; and from my perspective, the only which may be understood as valid, that makes this whole world and all within it evil. Except for me of course; how could I have helped build this world which oppressed me, I wasn't even here yet!

Ahem. Continuing on.

The door is opened to again reveal the sorcerer. "Ah, I have been expecting you! If I recall correctly, you were in need of a name change, yes?" he asks.

"Yes, that is the case. Here, I have the funds," I say, drawing them from my ring.

"Yes, yes," he says, casually taking the bag from me and setting it to the side. "Now, may we begin?"

"We may."

"So, to warn you one last time, I will only be removing your current name, you will be nameless after this, there is a slight risk from those extremely strong sorcerers – though, as I said previously, the number of sorcerers in the world who could forcibly name someone of your strength would be countable on one hand. After all, for a sorcerer to name someone, they must be exponentially more powerful; exponentially above the moderately strong is a degree far above even the obscenely strong… ahem. So, understanding this, is it time?"

"It is," I answer controlling my giddy excitement, excitement that is only halted for a moment as I realize that I just obtained an answer as to why Lector relied upon my permission to name me – he probably wasn't certain that his power was so exponentially beyond mine, and was worried that a wedge between us would impede his plans.

"Then let's begin," he says, and my excitement returns. "Do not resist, allow my power to sweep over you and take your name away. It may feel rather odd, as if something dearly important to you is being ripped away, but I still implore you to not resist so as to facilitate the smoothest possible removal of your name. Beginning now; prepare yourself."

Suddenly, I feel a rather strange sensation throughout my body, though it doesn't seem to involve my body; rather it is beneath the body at every point along it, such that it seems infused in all my flesh and beyond.

"I, Alexander Polt, strip the name from ye, Anetor. Through the powers vested in me as a sorcerer, be unnamed!"