Change
Written for the live journal community, deayza. 20 theme challenge, theme 5, which is scars. Though Dearka's not even in it, it's more of a reflective pov thing. xD
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There was much work to be done, but Yzak Jule lingered in the bathroom, staring intently at his own reflection. He was tired, and it was physically recognizable, his eyes were tired and dull looking. A fatigue of war, he thought. But he didn't remember looking like this the last time he looked at himself. But then again…
A chuckle. He never was too fond of mirrors after he first caught glimpse of himself with that mark on his face. He avoided them as much as he possibly could after that. But now, here he stood staring, and he didn't even care.
Had he changed that much?
"Scar" was a word always tied into war. Physical and mental remnants of pain and anguish endured. He was always so arrogant and cruel back then, vengeance-bent on a bit of beaten pride. He had more than just this visible scar, however, like many did. Ones that ran deeper and hurt more than the one ever could.
They were scars of loss. He took advantage of what he barely realized was most important to him, and only when they were gone did he understand how important they really were.
"Wait."
"What?"
"I'm… I'm going to come back, you know."
His lips twitched into a tiny grin as he recalled those words, spoken in haste but a promise that he knew would not be broken. Dearka said this to him the last time they saw each other, aboard the Archangel, the trail of blood from the battle prior still growing down the side of his head. Even in all the chaos and hurry, as if it was the most important thing in the world, he made sure he said it then.
That scar vanished. There was no more pain or empty feeling that was there when he thought he was gone forever. It had been the worst feeling Yzak ever had.
He ran a finger over his face, tracing the faded mark of humiliation he had used to detest so much. It would soon be gone, as well. Vengeance didn't seem as satisfying, blind hatred and childish naivety had slowly faded as the cut had, leaving the whole purpose of keeping it moot.
Dearka was coming back. How soon, Yzak didn't know, nor care to guess, all that mattered was that he was. Compared to something so important, his pride and grudges meant nothing to dwell on anymore. He was blessed with the luck to be spared the worse kind of painful, emotional scar one could possibly get in these times, it would always remind him to never take some things for granted again. Especially something so important that he thought he had lost.
Now, as he stared at himself, he was getting rid of that scar not because he had vowed to take down the one who inflicted it on him, but because looking at it merely now reminded him of how naïve he had been. Something he would try to never be again.
He stepped away from the mirror. Indeed, he had changed. Though with a fleeting thought of what was to come, he smiled, it was a welcome one.