To Be Free
I Do not Own Souleater
Free was lonely. He was always lonely, even before he was locked in this infernal Witch's prison. He was lonely beyond belief. No matter where he went, what he did... or who he even spoke to, Free was alone. It was because he was he was an immortal. This was both his blessing and his curse. He was blessed with the ability to live and to empires rise and ultimately fall. He would live until the end of time, experiencing every pleasure and every vice. Free could love, feel joy but he could he also feel heartache.
That was why being an immortal was a true curse. There would be no one he could share his thoughts with and have them understand. Free would live a life that wasn't truly a life. He would be an empty shell of a werewolf, an empty husk of a man. No matter what vices, what pleasures he could undertake, what joys he knew or what love he could find there was always the unmeasurable heartache of being alone.
Over the centuries, Free would begin to wonder, why he was given this gift? and why he was allowed to live for so incredibly long. Why did he have to live life alone? Why was he forced to continually suffer? He asked himself as he pretended that everything was alright. Was it a punishment handed down by God or was it just plain old luck?
In his long life, Free lived for nothing. The only thrills he would find were cheap. He would rob, cheat, and steal from those who had too much power. That's what led him to steal the eye of Grand Witch Mabaa, for the thrill of it. When she scowled and cursed in anger it was funny, it was hilarious when she condemned him to death. That damned Witch tired killing him several times and never succeeded, not once. Finally Mabaa resolved to use her most ancient and powerful spacial magic to kill Free. So Free played along, as he laid there as limp as stone he laughed silently. When Mabaa finally decreed him dead and to feed Free's corpse to the birds he sprang up. Free danced around the circle of Witch's, he laughed, joked and kissed Mabaa on the side of the cheek.
It wasn't funny for long. In his joy Free accidentally told the Grand Witch his one fear, to be alone. Mabaa used his greatest fear against him, the fear of being shackled, slowly rotting away until the end of time. Mabaa had him sent here and ever since all Free had, was time. Time to think, time to pray and time to cry. The tears he shed soaked the magical wraps that shrouded his eyes. He couldn't tell how long it had been, how long he had wept, to him it was an eternity. That infernal Witch had sunk lower than Free had thought possible, she had forced him to be alone.
Over time the tears that soaked the wraps dried. Free became strong again, could feel his will returning to him. he taught himself how to see with only his smell, to hear the drop of a pin, and to use his sight as a second sight. Whenever the guards gave him food he began thinking of ways to escape. Free would try digging a cave through the ground with a spoon, but they only gave him chopsticks! So he would try using those, Free would not be denied his one solace... to be free. When the guards saw his pathetic attempt they laughed, howled and cheered until they were in tears. Free just cursed them . He knew that he would one day be Free again, and when he was, they would pay.
Many more years went by until something happened. A new smell had erupted throughout the prison. it was a swampy one, a smell like a lizard or a frog. However there was another smell that lingered within it, it was Witch. Was Mabaa honestly going to try and kill him again? If so Mabaa was going to have a hell of time. Free was going to every single witch.
What Free heard next surprised him. The clang of a dropping cup and the thud of a lowly guard who was drugged. Next, that smell of lizard and Witch grew stronger, it was drawing closer to his cell. When it reached him, Free acted dumb.
"Who's there?" He asked with a hint of humor in his voice.
"There's no time! Someone wants you out of the Witch's prison!" A quiet voice of a young girl hissed as the bars to his prison opened. With no time to think Free blindly followed. The Witch sounded very young, no younger than twenty. Her foot steps were tiny yet quick, she must have been a shape shifter, no human hopped like a frog. As they ran, the two had been cornered, Free refused to be recaptured. All the guards attacked him, impaled him. They had forgotten the most important thing; Free was an immortal. One of the guards, the one who had fed and laughed at him panicked. He blasted Free with flame, freeing him from his shackles. He was the first of the many guards Free slaughtered. He smiled manically as he killed all the guards that had tormented him from outside his cell.
When Free's blood lust had died down, he saw who had freed him. It was indeed a frog... as they walked though, she changed back into the most beautiful woman Free had seen in over two hundred years. Her kind of beauty was rare to find, almost non existent. Perhaps it was the two hundred years of imprisonment but Free wanted her, bad. His lust was cut short, another Witch stood before him. She smelled of snake and looked the part. Unsurprisingly her name was Medusa and that she was his savior. Without thinking, he pledged himself to her, that frog Witch still on Free's mind. Still it was a small problem, all things considered. After two hundred years of rotting in a cell Free finally lived up to his namesake, he was Free once again. As a bonus he could be next to the frog Witch, Eruka, and perhaps Free would not be alone any longer... at least for a time.