I never loved you, you know.
I only needed you as a tool, just as you needed me. Our relationship was impersonal, almost as if we were coworkers instead of saviors.
Yes, Aura. We saved the world.
You never truly wanted me, anyway. It was Orca that you had been after. He was the true "Bearer of the Bracelet." (So, what, am I just a title now? "Bearer of the Bracelet. . ." What crap.)
I only needed you as the Twilight Dragon, just as you needed me. You were mine, and I was yours. It's funny how our relationship was so deep yet so. . .distant.
I was the one that was closest to you. Not even Helba, Queen of the Dark that is hacking, could touch you. Not even Apeiron, King of the Light that is the administration, could touch you. I could, though. I touched you and felt you and obsessed over you like no one else had ever done.
. . . Except maybe Harald, but I'm sure he never loved you. He only loved Emma. All you are is a living epitaph for her, after all -- digital flesh instead of some mossy, chipped, water-stained rock with an inscription on it. Yes, I said it. It's cruel, isn't it? You're a synthetic person borne from a synthetic bitch and raised off of synthetic love. How must that feel?
Oh, that's right. You're dead. It doesn't matter anymore.
------
I never loved you, you know. I didn't care for your mother, either.
I stopped accessing awhile ago. I suppose it wasn't long after you were born. After you save the world, it grows difficult to remain in it. Now I understand why old fairytales ended right after the hero's victory; nothing is interesting after that. Eventually, the hero drifts off into a pit of melancholy until he either dies or emerges as a troublemaker. The latter is logical enough. If there's no trouble, then what's your purpose?
My own purpose in The World was solely to be The Hero. After I completed that purpose, my own programming didn't know what to do. In a way, I sought after and found "the end," just like the AIs. Now I understand why Morganna hated you so; she was The Mother, but it was contradictory to her survival to be so. Eventually, the mother would lose her purpose and be succeeded by The Daughter.
How would that feel, I wonder, to be created solely to give birth then die? An old man once told me of something rather interesting -- self-terminating cells. Their sole purpose is to hang around for a moment or so then kill themselves off, just as Morganna did.
You know what's interesting, though? These self-terminating cells create one of the most important aspects of the human body. You never had them, but I'm sure you can recognize what they are. Without them, humans couldn't do half the things they do. Why, without them, I wouldn't be able to access this dilapidated, dismembered World at all.
They create hands, AuraLiving cells are created to die so we can have hands.
I wonder, Aura, how skilled your hands were.
------
I never loved you, you know. I didn't care for your mother, either. You sicken me, too.
I hear that this "Shuugo" kid somehow got access to my character data. I also hear that you were the one behind it. What were you thinking, I wonder? Why did you want me back? Our relationship was impersonal, Aura. We spoke only a handful of times, and most of those times consisted of you warning me of some danger and running off before that danger came to destroy us.
Helba told me that you never truly ran away, though. The Bracelet protected us from ever truly being in any danger. That pisses me off, too.
It would have been valuable to know that before we fought Skeith, when a fragment of you flickered on my screen and the amethyst waves came to consume me, only parting to reveal the demon that still haunts my dreams now and then.
It would have been valuable to know that while we fought Skeith, when I saw Blackrose data-drained and screamed blood-curdling murder, thinking that I was witnessing her execution.
It would have been damn valuable to know that after we fought Skeith, when I was on the ground sobbing and gasping for breath, thanking all the gods I knew that I was alive.
And that was just Phase One.
But, back to the boy. His name was Shuugo, wasn't it? I hear that this kid somehow got access to my character data. I also hear that you were the one behind it. However, I hear that this Shuugo wasn't a bad kid. So, I guess I'm not upset with him for using my character.
Oddly enough, Balmung said his sister got Blackrose. You do realize that Blackrose and I are together, right? What a warped, incestuous twist you've placed on those avatars. Freak.
------
I never loved you, you know. I didn't care for your mother, either. You sicken me, too. Thanks to you, I don't have a name, and I don't know where babies come from.
I'm thankful to Shuugo. He kept Kite company. What, you think I'm Kite? Of course I'm not. I'm just an anonymous fourteen-year-old boy -- well, that's not true anymore. I'm in college now. It's been seven years, after all.
Kite, though. . . I think he hates me. Frankly, I don't blame him. I abandoned him, and I had stated quite a few times that I had no concern for him whatsoever. For the most part, I still stand by this. I would not have played The World had not Orca roped me into it. Really, he did an excellent job of ensuring that I played; he managed to get himself into a coma within the first twenty minutes of Kite's life, causing that life to be extended by over six months.
I never understood AI. Sure, I saw all of the things that crawled around Helba's paradise, and I understood that they were digital people, but beyond that. . . I always thought of them as Digimon, except without any cool powers or half-coherent speech patterns. I guess you could say that I never understood how they were born, how they functioned. Really, it's kind of funny. In The World, it was as if I was a young boy wondering where babies came from. I had been sent back to the beginning.
Really, I still don't understand where AIs come from, so I guess that means that I'm still pretty young. I do understand one thing, though. . .
AI is unpredictable. It seems as though it can form in anything, seemingly out of nowhere. No reason could possibly explain its existence.
Unless, of course, God committed suicide, taking all the rules with her. . .
------
I never loved you, you know. I didn't care for your mother, either. You sicken me, too. Thanks to you, I don't have a name, and I don't know where babies come from. And your statue was ugly.
Here I am, the returning hero, the faded veteran going back to his battlefields to relive what little shreds of glory he thinks he has left. You know what? I sicken me.
I look different now. What the hell am I? A Danse Macabre? What the hell kind of character is this? Paper fans and dancing? What does that have to do with your world? Don't even get me started on Steamgunners. What do guns have to do with your world?
Delta's Hidden Forbidden Holyground looks different now. What the hell is this? The monument to "The Many Trials, Pains, and Gaudy Chains of Aura, the Saint" is gone. Did it die with you? You could have at least removed the inscription of the damned Phases from the pedestal. What were you thinking when. . .
Oh, that's right. You're dead. It doesn't matter anymore.
I could ask myself - and you - why you did it, but I think I already know. Part of the reason why I hate you - yes, hate - is because you were the true savior. I mean, you were the one that had programming that told you to stick around. My programming said, "Okay, kiddo, time to get your ass out of here. You're done. Make way, make way for the new guys. . ."
But, you know what? I think your programming just told you the same damn thing. So, with this realization, I can't help but feel a tentacle of loathing towards you wither and die. It was time for you to go, too. Do you know if you can get back or not? Did that even cross your mind, or did you just not care?
You had a daughter, too, right? I don't know if you know, but your beautiful, ethereal daughter - I never saw her, but I know that your daughter was this - bit the dust like every other AI. She was never very special, was she? The only thing that separated her from the rest was her striking resemblance to you. You never gave her the capacity to improve upon the Ultimate AI. You were just like Morganna: didn't want to be succeeded by your offspring. That's sick, Aura.
------
"Your statue is gone."
Just thought you wanted to know. It was always ugly, anyway. Your face and dress were blunt and your chains cheaply animated. I saw better graphics on an old Gamecube game. Really, it looked nothing like you, because at least you looked real.
"Your world is gone."
Just thought you wanted to know. It was always beautiful. Everything felt real, and when I was strolling through Mac Anu, I could swear to holy God himself that I could taste the water in the air. Really, it looked everything like you, because you were both glorious.
"Your Kite is gone."
Just thought you wanted to know. He was always. . . I hear he burned to death in an inferno. In fact, the flames around him grew so hot, they turned azure. He may have died, but Hell spewed him forth from its womb and gave him new life. In his rebirth, he was christened Tri-Edge of the Azure Flame. Really, he's everything like you, because he uses the Bracelet to kill people, just as you used it to kill your mother.
"You are gone."
Just thought you wanted to know.
------
This was just an experiment. Really, I never planned on publishing it... It's fairly disjointed, and the repetition is...also disjointed. Oh, well. Tell me what you think! I'd love to hear some reactions to this style.
This is a much older, darker Kite, but I believe that he's completely plausible. I've reviewed cut scenes and emails, and from what I can tell, Kite's relationship with Aura is ambiguous enough for this to work. Besides, over the years, people do tend to experience things that turn them bitter. Many things have happened since Kite's first romp through The World, after all.
(P.S. That "Unless, of course, God committed suicide, taking all the rules with her. . ." error is intentional.)
Well, thank you very much for reading. I was thinking of writing a series of drabbles that introduce old characters to The World R:2. I was thinking of using this fiction as a starting point, but perhaps it works as a one-shot? Oh, well.
Thanks again!