Cold.
Empty.
Feelings that persisted in his heart,a certain numbness that had an opposing force of sheer despair.
The floor pooled with his blood.
He was lying down with his face planted firmly against his own blood,his groans as a protest to his state.
Yet he remained still,his left hand grasped his left side,barely pressing,where a wound leaked his blood.
His hold made him feel the wound perfectly,moist with blood,sticky,his flesh was opened and his guts threatened to come out of his wound.
It was not a wound he couldn't deal with,he was capable enough medically to sue stitches to close the wound and as a traveller he boasted a sufficient enough supplies for most health neccesseties.
Yet his mind gave mere glances towards such thoughts.
I-I can't....What's the point.
He just couldn't find himself....Living.
Maybe...Death will be nice?...What's the point.
He just couldn't find himself....dying.
I.....
He just couldn't find himself strength to think.
Yet deep in his mind,his subconscious thoughts blared loudly,forming a cacophony of desperation.
«I don't want to die!»«Maya!»
«THOSE BASTARDS WILL PAY!»
«what's the point?»«I need to save them»«Kill yourself faster damn it!»
«I'm sorry...mom, dad»«WHY?!»
Hearing those thoughts fester,as though they are a plague,A sudden Rage built within his heart,causing a turmoil of emotion that rejected his previous emptiness.
With a sudden jolt he pushed himself up with his right hand, chaotically rolling himself upwards with the momentum and laying on his back,finally letting his face free from his pool of blood as he starred at the ceiling of a cave.
???:"SHUT UP!"
His shout echoed throughout the cave.
There was blood on his forehead,nose,chin,lips and cheeks,the blood on his forehead dribbled down onto his eyes,dying a part of his vision red.
His Irises were a colour of Vermilion,his hair was a shade of black so dark that distingushing each strand of hair became difficult,seemingly,his hair absorbed light.
A sharp jawline and a distinct scar,still some what fresh on the left side of his face.
He wore luxurious clothing which was torn,weathered and drenched in his own blood making the true colour of his clothing not visible.
???:"Why should I....do anything...i can't after all."
He spoke out loud,his tone already softened and his face cold yet mourning.
Arthur Severa.
The successor for the head of a major family Known as the severa,A sword family,though only In name.
Yet....
He was still here,useless,unmoving and miserable.
Arthur:"I... Just don't have a reason....to live anymore *huff*....No,to exist."
He had no reason to live,therefore he was reasonless.
Arthur:"What reasons are there?....am I special?. "
Specialty?
None,born and grown yet no Soul core awakened,even if 60-70% of the populace awakened,he didn't.
Family?.
He is Forgotten.
Love?
None,no one would love someone Who is soon to die.
Goals?
His only goals seem un-reachable in the first place.
The more he thought In search of reason,the more distant he grew away from it.
Arthur:"It's not like I don't *hic*..."
Tears started to well up inside his eyes as his heart pounded harder and harder in misery.
Arthur:"...want to*hic* save th-*hic*-them damn it...*hic*...ah...Aaaaah!."
Slowly his words devolved to sobs as the pain of his wound was overshadowed by the pain in his heart.
His mind was descending into a state from which it would never be able to return back from.
As the clouds in his eyes thicken and their blackness started to deepen,he understood what was happening.
He was losing,not just losing his life...
He was losing himself.
And in the nick of reaching the precipice of such notion,where his consciousness began to wane,his.....subconscious thoughts,all varying....
Begun to Brighten,converging into themselves.
And as the brightness reached the precipice of it's finality a voice spoke out.
You...
Arthur:".....what?"
For a moment Arthur had thought he had heard a voice,a voice chillingly famillier.
If all that you seek is a reason...
The brightness of the converged mass of subconscious had taken it's final form,it's brightness even brightening the formerly waning true conscious.
Arthur:"....Am I hearing things?"
The mist clouding his eyes momentarily parted,letting a brief respite take hold of his mind as he returned back to a tilted form of stability.
The voice continued and as it did,he began to soon comprehend the identity of the being behind that voice that he could not mistake with anyone else's.
.....And if it is unfounded within sanity...
A chill coursed through his spine as he soon realised the identity of the being speaking to him.
Arthur:"How...that... Sense!"
While he spoke his thoughts in a broken manner,Without paying any mind to his turmoil the voice carried on.
Why not search inside the scapes of.....
It was a voice originating from a time which he yearned,a voice of some one he envied yet felt pity for.
It was none other than a child,10 years old and to be precise....
...Insanity?
His younger self.