Once, I was a hero.
I fought against discrimination, believed in a world where equality and justice were possible. I swore to do whatever necessary to achieve that goal, and pledged my blade to the cause. I followed the one who promised he could make that dream a reality, and together, we shaped the very foundations of the earth.
Once, I was a savior.
She was marked for a life of toil and suffering. When I saw her, it took everything I had not to rush to her side and help her stand. Days turned to weeks, and it became harder and harder not to worry about her. Finally, I gave into my impulses and carried her away from that factory of death. From days when we strolled happily through the sunny shores of small fishing villages to the days when I held her until the pain of the inevitable transformation went away, she meant the world to me, ignited something within that had died out when I grew my wings.
Once, very briefly, I was a father.
I saw his first smile. I heard his first words. I watched his first steps. I held him and felt his little heart beat against mine, and I panicked when he got too close to my sword. She said he looked like me; I only saw his mother's eyes.
Once, I was a murderer.
I told myself there was no other choice. She wanted this – would never have wanted to kill her own son. But then, I never wanted to kill my own wife. But it was clear that what I wanted did not matter, and once again, I was a slave to an angel's cause.
Once, I was a traitor.
This was how it had to be. It did not matter that it was my flesh and blood standing there, staring in disbelief and hatred at someone he thought was his trusted companion. It did not matter that I had spent countless nights by a campfire working with him to improve his skill. It did not matter that I saw Anna in every move he made, magnified tenfold because he was also mine. All that mattered was that I needed the girl beside him for my redemption, and, no matter how I hated myself for it, he could not stand in my way. Yet, even knowing that, I could not kill him.
Once, I was forgiven.
I helped them. They didn't realize until later, but their quest would have failed countless times if not for me. Now, beaten and weak, I lay collapsed on the ground, looking up at the sword point of my own son, who had defeated me here to realize his own dream. I had seen everything from revulsion to ecstasy cross his face, but now, a new expression met my eyes. I forgive you, he said. I forgive you…Father.
Now, looking down at the planet I leave behind, remembering everything I have done, I begin to wonder…
Maybe I have become a hero again.