Loyalty Only to Me
by
Draco's Daughter
Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts and all related characters and places belong to Disney and Square-Enix.
A/N: Just another bit of my version of Saïx's story. There will be a few more chapters of this one, so stick around.
"Mordred's Lullabye" is by Heather Dale. It is a beautiful song that I've come to associate with Saïx, very hypnotic and quite lovely, especially if you're familiar with Arthurian legend. Listening to it definitely helped while writing parts of this.
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-The Long Forgotten Past-
Hush, child, the darkness will rise
from the deep and carry you down into sleep…
His earliest memories were of the one called "Mother." A gentle kind voice, soft arms keeping him safe, and the sweet taste of milk. How he remembered back so far was a mystery to all, even to him, but what he remembered most was the love. The kind, gentle love of Mother.
Father, was a different story. He was scary and mean, not at all like Mother. Father did not love him, not at all. He was an obstacle to Father, something to be tossed aside like an unwelcome enemy.
However, Mother always taught him not to hate. "Do not hate, if you hate you become him," she softly said to him time and again. And Mother's teachings were the only truth he had ever known, so he never hated, no matter what happened.
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It got harder as he got older. Ïas he was called by Mother, half-breed was what the others of the clan called him. They would whisper it as he passed by, doing chores for Mother. No one else helped her, so it was up to him. The only other person to call him Ïas was Father.
"Busy again, little Ïas?" He would ask with a chuckle, ruffling the boy's hair as he passed by. Ïas would always try to duck the gesture, but never could avoid getting his blue-black locks ruffled. He would grimace and lightly growl, like he often saw the older men of the clan do, which would only make Father laugh. Father was cruel like that. But he would not hate.
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As he grew, it became harder and harder to avoid Father. He would come to Mother's hut and demand to start Ïas's "training." Ïas did not like the idea. He saw what the other young boys in the clan were "trained" to do – fight and kill. The strong slew the weak, it was the way. Mothers lost sons who were deemed weak, making them cry for days. Ïas wanted no part in any killing. Mother had taught him the gentle ways of her Goddess. The Goddess was the serene moon, ever changing but ever present, whether she was full and bright or veiled with the cowl of the Crone.
"He is still too young," Mother would say in her gentle voice. "Give him another year to grow."
"If I give him yet another year, he will only grow soft," Father would reply, his voice loud and angry. Ïas did not like it when Father yelled, especially at mother. But he would not hate. Even as Father struck Mother for her ways, he would not hate. But hate had nothing to do with his attack on Father, it was all for the Love of Mother.
That same attack was what caused Father to take him to the training grounds.
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Hate made the other boys strong, strong and frightening. Ïas took none of their joy in the slaying of innocent people and animals as they were taught the ways of the clan. They let their hate build until it was released in powerful attacks. It took being close to his own death that caused Ïas to find a substitute. Love was just as powerful as Hate. Everything he did, he did it for Mother, always Mother. Even as he sat, staring at the blood of his opponent on his hands after the killing blow, not hearing the approving words of the Elders around him, he told himself "All for Mother" over and over again, eyes wide as he tried to come to terms with the fact he had killed someone…
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Years came and went, training ended and war began. His place was next to Father, fighting as a Chieftain's son should. A grey wolf pelt obscuring his features, making him appear even more of an animal to his opponents. War wasn't as bad as training, the enemy was not innocent. But even then, he did not hate them. He could not bring himself to.
--
Finally, he had lived to what was considered "adult." He could do as he pleased whenever war was not approaching. He was not allowed to live with Mother anymore, he had his own hut and a loving woman to call his own if he so wished. He did not love her; Father had given her to him as a reward. But she was a good woman all the same; she cared for him, cooked, and kept the hut clean. That was all he asked, his appetite for the carnal hungers wasn't present like in the other warriors. She may have been a simple slave to the others, but she was another incarnation of the Goddess to him.
But Goddess or not, Father wanted him to provide the clan with new warriors. Ïas refused, he had long known his blood was tainted. His children would be looked down upon by the other warriors, just as they had looked down upon him when he was young. For not following that simple command, he was given the Mark of the Traitor – an X shaped scar between the eyes. Even thus, he would not yield to Father's demand.
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Father would have strong, new warriors no matter what. Even if that meant taking Mother once more, always against her will. Ïas had long been Mother's silent defender, always the presence that kept Father from forcing his will and his body upon her. But now, that he was grown, Mother was open to Father's harsh attacks. This was the reason that Father needed to die. Long had he been the thorn in Ïas's side and it was high time he be plucked… permanently.
The night he attacked Mother, taking her once more against her will, was the night Ïas learned how to hate. Anger filled his form from toes to brow, and he attacked Father without mercy. Their fight took them far away from the village, Father believing that getting away from the village would help him gain an advantage over Ïas. But Ïas was young and strong; Father was in his waning years, unable to withstand Ïas's powerful blows, delivered by bare hands.
As Father lay dying, in a pool of his own blood, he smirked up at Ïas, chuckling. "You've finally learned what I've tried to teach you. Let Hatred rule your Heart, my son, and you will be the greatest War Chieftain this clan has ever seen." With one last gurgling chuckle, he died.
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It was Ïas's new Hatred that helped to bring the Heartless to them; they feed off of all negative emotion. He was Father's only surviving son, and thus he became Chieftain. He purged the Clan of all those who had long persecuted Mother as well as bullied him as a child. This brought sadness to Mother's face, but it did not remain long. The sleep of death soon overtook the Clan as the Heartless came.
They were an enemy that had never been fought before, creatures of the night that no one could defeat. It was not long before all were lost to this threat. Ïas defended Mother to his last breath, fighting mercilessly and tirelessly. But, as were the rest of the clan, he was eventually overtaken. His only solace was that he died fighting….
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End Notes: Stick around for Pt 2.