#Marcus Laurier#
Trapped and isolated. A familiar feeling. Before the church took me in, I felt like I had lost my purpose in this word. There was no motivation, incentive, or reason. Just being able to exist without my mother was something I considered a cursed privilege. A privilege to live at the expense of others. An unfair exchange that doesn't require the consent of others. My mother could've run away and left me behind. Yet she stayed till her body broke, even when she was sick. She was the strongest person I knew, and she was my model in a way. The best parent anyone could ever ask for.
I wouldn't blame her if she left, after all, its not like she would gain anything from raising me. If anything, she always knew that continuing down her path would only lead to her death sooner or later.
If I didn't exist, then mother would never had to suffer as much as she did.
Right. It's because of me that mother died.
It's been so long that I nearly forgot it. The pain and the crushing guilt that I swore to never forget resurfaces. What have I been doing this whole time living happily?
I sit for what seems like eternity. Eternity that stretches time towards the infinity. How long will I be here?
"Until you repent for your sins," a voice speaks behind me.
My voice, spoken not from myself but from another. I flick my head, expecting to meet someone. Nobody was there.
"Are you curious?" the voice speaks behind me again, "about why?"
I look all around me, unable to see the invisible perpetrator. I was alone with nobody to defend me.
"Let me tell you why."
The voice goes through my head and the void brightens and brightens until its light blinds my eyes from all directions. It transitions and I open my eyes to the sound of rain. My body feels as if they had been in a coma for a long time. Water drips on to my forehead, telling me to wake up. My body does not move; rather it does not want to, preferring to stay in the rain than to go up and get to shelter. Which also reminds me.
Where am I?
I try and swivel my head, but my body rejects my command. I notice the place I was sleeping on wasn't exactly a bed, it was a concrete floor I wasn't used to. I roll my eyes to the left, to the right, I could see the eaves of buildings. This is an alleyway.
A putrid smell akin to a fetid penumbra enters my nose. My body rejects this foreign odour, my mind starts to play tricks on me. There was no other explanation because the voice that came next was impossible.
"Come here son, you'll catch a cold."
This voice, it can't be.
My hands tremble and I open my mouth to speak. Nothing comes out. Not a sound. Not a breath. Not a twitch of my muscles. Those details become irrelevant when she tilts my head towards her face. A face which I've buried deep inside.
"Sleep tight," mother says with a sweet voice. The cold, the rain, the smell of the alleyway resurges through my memories but leaves as quickly as it comes. I was back to the white void. This time, the mysterious voice speaks.
"Now do you know why?"
"I know," I speak to the hollow void, unsure even if there is someone listening, "I know. I know. I know I know I know!"
I feel a bitter stab of regret, it slithers and wraps around my heart.
So why do I want to leave?
Its fangs dig deep within my body, I feel the numbness spread across. I kneel.
Trapped and isolated. I'm no different from back then. I haven't changed, I haven't matured, I haven't learnt anything!
My mind grows dull at my own insults. This is how it should be. I should be alone…
A light touch wraps around my hand, it feels warm and soothing. The white void didn't feel as cold anymore, not like the rain or the alleyway, but a reassuring embrace. The owner of this hand: Clara, who was kneeling behind me. She looks different, entirely so. The radiant hair she had before was replaced with a glossed texture. Maybe it was the white void. The white void.
She wore a white dress. No ornamentation or decoration, just a plain white dress. She doesn't face me. In a room full of light, her shadow covers her face.
I reach out.
"Wake up," I see her mouth move, but the voice surrounds me, "there's something you need to do."
In an instant, the void snaps to a different picture Rain. Smoke. Walls. Clashes of metal. Ruffling of grass. Reality.
Wallace gets in my face and I shoot up. My heart was beating fast, too fast. Adrenaline.
"Where's Clara?" I ask desperately but Wallace looks at me and shakes his head.
"That bugger used some illusionary magic; thank god I got you out before you were a goner."
A dream then.
I see Isona and Kaydn fighting against a person. Isona's arrows were countered by a barrier, Kaydn was on the defensive, multiple rounds of magic projectiles flying at him with his stance waning as the battle drags on.
"You guys go on!" Isona draws another arrow and fires it, "we'll keep him at bay!"
"Why would we-" I begin my argument, but Wallace drags me by the shoulder.
"We have no time! Our priority is the bomb!" Wallace says while he runs. He lets me go and I blindly follow him.
"Where are we going?" I took one last look at the two who stayed behind.
"There's a school basement. The lowest level houses the bomb."
We make our way to a crooked wooden door. Full of gaps and holes as if it were there only for show.
The first few floors of the basement were empty. Full of rooms for labs and experiments. The fourth floor was where all the people were at. These people wore red robes, covering a majority of their face. Cultists, Wallace explained, were a collective of people dedicated to a certain religion.
"We'll only knock them out right?" I ask Wallace.
"If the situation calls for it."
The cultists notice our presence and they ready their weapons in a hastened manner, neither one prepared for our attacks. Wallace casts mana bullets and I play off it. The cultists block the bullet, but I follow up, capitalising on the distraction. I lower my sheathed sword. I need to improvise.
I get close to the cultists and whack my sword at their chest. One of them wheezes and coughs, leaving the other dumbfounded as I struck upwards to his groin. I can't believe we're doing this.
"Marcus!" Wallace shouts, "Look out!"