Rolls
Down went the carriage through the dense foliage and greenery. The golden ray of sunlight bathed the whole forest in a mystical brilliance, it was quite calming, I just sat there taking on deep breaths and letting them out, not wanting to disturb my mind too much with unnecessary thoughts.
I now finally understand what the keeper meant when he said all he required of Larson was his memories. At first when I got the memories of Larson I was pretty sure I was him. But, now that I think more deeply about it, Larson as an entity, probably no longer existed. He was broken, broken by the countless iterations, broken by the constant hurt he was forced to face even at his lowest, he was just no more than a teen when it all started but was forced to endure life at it's cruelest and with time, the boy could no longer smile. He was hunted by his past, hunted by a love he rejected that became his ultimate nightmare, hunted by that cursed bitch who killed herself before him.
Sighs.
In a way, I am Larson. After all, I now possess all his memories. I now remember EVERYTHING. I might not yet fully understand why he was tormented to accumulate all this cursed memories I now inherit, but if there is one thing I am sure it made me feel, it was this... hate. This hate for Divine beings, this hatred for hypocrites that call themselves gods, this hatred for ORDER, this hatred for the FAVORED ones, the ones blessed by fate to always outshine everyone, the GREATEST HYPOCRITES of existence that will forever be seen as he GOOD GUYS, no matter what atrocities they come to commit.
I hate them all, and perhaps that was his motive from them very beginning. But why? What does he want from me? Come to think of it, I am in a way like Larson. I lost everything before I could come to appreciate them, thrown from grace to grace in no more than a day, a noble turned slaved. Scorned and mocked all my life, and growing with this absurd hatred and obsession.
Hahaha.
Even Anderson (the guy I now am) is no different. Mocked for his lack of talent and physic, he became the laughing stock of the noble house. Even his own mother never saw him as anything. The kid was never loved from the very beginning, and with time, he gave up on trying to earn a recognition he would never attain as even fate was against him.
Now.
With all this memories collapsed into one being, all I now feel is... nothing. Strange, I feel so much anger for everything that I no longer feel a thing.
Sighs.
But... I still have this strange drive.
It's like the will of every person I have become.
To end it all.
To watch the world burn, to stand before the keeper with a sword plunged through his head. I don't want to be seen as a hero, I don't want to be a stepping stone, I want to be... the GOOD GUY.
No.
I want to be hated, just as I hate everything.
I want this world and even others to know the pain INSIGNIFICANT beings, are made to go through because the lack FAVOR of some higher entity.
I want everyone to know the story of Larson, Lumiea, and even Anderson.
I have been passed down this burdens in toe with the memories of there life. The pain, that gut-wrenching pain, the inequality, the desire to be loved that was turned to the need to be acknowledged, the resignation to the inevitable.
All I really want now.
Is Revenge.
"Where are we headed?" I asked calmly, still staring out the carriage window.
"A secluded mansion in a certain part of this forest," she said and I sighed.
"Why are you here? I should be stripped of all privileges of a noble, and that includes my possession of a maid," I said. All I wanted at this point was to be left alone to think. I can never come to understand how Larson survives through all those iterations with these... memories. So much tragedy, it should break anyone, even the toughest of men. But he endured them all until the end, in each iteration always having that hidden desire for a GOOD LIFE, a quiet life, one where he would be loved and could let go of all this chains that bind him. But cruel is fate... and the keeper.
".... I go wherever master goes," I heard and turned to look at her.
".... You are not to step into that mansion with me. Return to the main mansion, that's an order," I looked back at the window. Though the cool air helped to calm me down, it did nothing about this heaviness in my chest. It was too much for just one person to bare. In a way, I wanted to cry. That would have helped, though it never helped with Larson, the tears only made it hurt more.
"I cannot leave my master alone," she said, but I paid her no mine, just closed eyes and let this calming sensation ease some of this weight... not that it will.