They say that to err is human; I may not be human, but I've certainly made enough mistakes to qualify as one. They also say that to forgive is divine.
I think, for now, I'll stick with being human, despite the fact that my captors always beat it into me that I was anything but. The pain, loneliness, and humiliation are still too fresh, too close to the surface of my skin to begin to heal properly.
I hate what my life once was, and I cannot begin to even hope to properly explain my hatred of my former master to someone who has not lived it. How do you explain to a free man or woman that it was considered a privilege to be allowed to breathe, to have a single solitary moment to yourself? How do you explain to the smith who has earned his bread honestly his whole life that you were dependant on your master's charity, and that you were not allowed to feed yourself without his leave? How do you explain to a free spirit from the enchanted forests what it is like to be chained and collared by your master's side, only let off for errands or fighting? How do you explain to a child who is someone's namesake that you only know yourself by the name your master called you by, in jest?
How do you explain to your love interest that you only understand exquisite pain when being touched by mages? How do you feel when you see the hurt in their eyes when you flinch away from their touch? How do you try to apologize for something you yourself do not fully understand?
I am marked, in more ways than one. I am an elf; a race that has been subjected to slavery for centuries, and is increasingly becoming rarer and rarer to see these days. I am also stolen/escaped property; these lyrium markings are proof of that. And I have another mark, an invisible one that is only seen by those who have seen it before; an affliction of the spirit.
I do not want to hate. I am no scholar or philosopher, but even I can understand that when one hates or is angry, it is because one is in pain. I relish it when I murder (and it is murder, do not try to lie to yourself) slavers; they inflict so much misery on others, on innocents, all for several pieces of shiny gold coins. They deserve their fate, even if some would claim it is sadistic and cruel to rip their organs out with your bare hands. For that brief moment, you are able to leave your own pain and suffering behind, and relish the pain of another.
I do not want to do this for the rest of my life, however long or short it may be. I do not remember my life from before; my first memory is being branded with these marks. I do not know if I was as I am now, but I sometimes muse that, perhaps, I was more innocent. Indeed, I was rather surprised by some of my actions when I noticed my companion's flirting. Apparently, I am more of a romantic than I thought. So, I suppose I'm not fully engulfed in my hatred.
Still…I want to move on. I look forward to the day that I will have Danarius' heart in my hands, when I see blood flow from his lips and the light in his cruel eyes go out. I have spent years on the run, planning for that final moment.
Yet I can't wait for this all to be over. I know I can never be normal; the markings make sure of that. But I want to at least have the option to try.
And I think, perhaps, thanks to my certain companion, I might have a good chance at that.
AN: Just a short drabble, a break from FF VII and Bleach. Playing Dragon Age II and am intrigued by the elf character, Fenris. So, I decided to give a go at some of his thoughts and feelings.