Sorry this has taken so long, but things have been busy. But luckily, I have time to fictualize. So enjoy, drop me a message on the forum, and REVIEW.
Dawn. I can see the daylight through my eyelids, but I daren't open them. Perhaps I was dreaming, and I would wake up to another day of monotony with Steve. How wonderful, how perfect such a day would seem after times such as these.
What a hell this was. I felt as if I was losing my everything to the war, and an utter hopelessness washed over me. Why did I have to murder Steve, the one who had been my best friend, the one I had given my humanity to save? But he wasn't my friend Steve any more. He was an opponent, an enemy. And it was my job to destroy him.
I knew that I was losing myself to the battle, and I could not prevent the subtle slipping away. I knew that I was changing, perhaps even disappearing, but there was nothing to be done while I was doing my duty.
I knew the cause at last. It struck me as I lay there silently, miserably. When you dedicate your life to a cause, the cause becomes your priority. It becomes your life, more or less. And when you live for something in such a way, you would die for it. Which means you die to anything standing in the way.
When you use every fiber of your being to do something, you don't simply change overnight because of it. No, your fade is slow, painful, unmerciful. And you start with small things, automatic things, things you don't even notice. Until the poison runs through your veins. It's too late by then. For me it's too late. I'm dead.
My soul died when Sam died because of the wolfman and I had to drink his blood. It died when I had to leave my first girlfriend without a goodbye. It died when the Trials caused the traitor Kurda to kill Gavner for his own ends. It died when Arra left my mentor behind, when I found that I had to fight the ultimate battle, when I saw that my best friend was a murderer, when I had to let that fact slip from my mind.
I died when Larten fell in the Tunnels. During that terrible, neverending moment when he seemed to be suspended in the air, when I imagined a thousand ways to prevent his landing, when he finally fell to the flaming stake. While his screams and twitches penetrated the walls under the city he'd so loved, while I could not cry even when I felt as if my very heart would burst from my body with the agony of it all, I died. And that could not be changed.
A part of me accepted it. A part of me didn't want it to change. But there were the memories, the part of those moments that remained. But mere memories did nothing. And so I would face my destiny with nothing left but my immortality, and even that was left hanging on a thread...