Why so serious?
Pain is not real. Sadness and happiness and love, are each an illusion, an imaginary way to convince ourselves that we feel something. It is a lie.
And since this is so, why do our minds create such a mirage? Why do we hope? Because without it we would be consumed, erased by the darkness we all host deep in our souls. The madness is overwhelming, and soon each person is sucked in.
In a tragic moment, we are at our most vulnerable, and an unknown evil abuses our misfortune. While guided by he, we can, and will, be absorbed. But I am strong. My soul is hard. I am unbreakable.
And I am protected by my innocence.
Tick, tock, goes the clock...And we all die tomorrow!
Did I know at the time it would it would be true? Yes, of course I did. Because I saw it. I saw the pain and suffering of the future. It was I, of all people, who recognized the signs. Because I was cleverest.
And today I laugh, because I was too clever.
I saw deadly eyes in the trees, far away. I tasted blood contaminating the thin air. I smelled smoke from cigars much too cheap. I heard the breaths of an unfamiliar man. And I glimpsed at the flames that would destroy us. And I can feel these things, because I was born this way.
I was born an exorcist.
What is an exorcist, you ask? We are apostles of God. We exist to demolish the unknown evil, using the God Crystal, also known as innocence. Some bond to their innocence, and some, like I, are born with it implanted inside our bodies. We are protectors of the Earth, fighting against the Millennium Earl, with weapons forged of our innocence.
Who is the Millennium Earl, you ask? The unknown evil. The one who appears when you are distressed, who soothes you with speak of the impossible, and tricks you into opening your heart. He extracts the darkness within you and encases you in it, until nothing is left but the shell of a human. And a demon, made of the one you love, wears your skin.
Exorcists are here to relieve these suffering spirits of the weight they bear.
And now you ask, why? And I laugh, because you are just another fool.
I stare vacantly at the red fingers flicking upwards, slowly annihilating what had once been my home. The mansion that had been my prison, butchered by a simple flame.
But you cannot say I was surprised.
I gape at the toppled bodies that once were my parents, clinging to each other like the wings on a fallen butterfly. Though even as tears streak my elder brother's face, I do not cry. I plainly turn around and walk morbidly on my way.
"Nora?"
"Come on, Tyki."
"Where…" He began.
"They're going to come."
"Huh? Who?"
"Those people. They're gonna take us away. They're going to put us somewhere where we don't want to be. I'm leaving now. I'm deciding my own fate."
He stands there in cold silence, the brisk winds blowing his silky black hair in front of his face, hiding his red, puffy eyes. Listening to this conversation you might never have believed that I was only five, and he was sixteen. "You never did like to be told what to do."
When you live in a world ruled by those who don't understand, in a house with parents that forget you exist, there is no hope. No hope when there is no one to care for you, but Tyki and I had each other. We stuck together. We understood each other.
This is when a black Panhard-Levasso* pulls up. This is when we run.
We are quite a sight, two spoiled, rich children running down the road like urchins. Well-dressed urchins. I am quickly tired, but Tyki is strong. He lifts me onto his back and continues to run.
Gasping over heavy breaths, he whispers, "We're gonna stick together, okay?"
"Okay," I respond.
"I'm not gonna leave you alone."
"I got it."
At the time I believed him to be true. He was my older brother. My stronger, smarter, braver, older brother. And I respected him, and he protected me, and we were together forever.
* An electric vehicle (car) from France in the early 1800s