Every day was virtually the same in the Kingdom. Puppets were born, and puppets died. We all did as we were told, and we all worshipped the Master. The Master gave us purpose. The Master gave us life. The Master is everything, and we puppets are nothing. And yet, we want more. We want emotions. We want knowledge. We want the will to be independent. We want to be human.
The Master made us look like humans; we came in different heights and weights, and we all looked unique in our own special way. We had two eyes, two ears, a nose, and a mouth. Everything was symmetrical. We looked very human. But our bodies were hollow, a mere shell that held no purpose except to serve the Master. We needed a soul. We needed emotions. We needed individuality. We needed more than just this.
The Master wouldn't give that to us, though. The Master said emotions are irrelevant. They are not needed. They are worthless. Emotions are a burden to carry, and we should be thankful that we do not have to hold this burden. Emotions are pain. They hurt. The Master said that emotions are a flame, a thing that lures you in with its light, but then burns you. It burns you with forever pain, a pain that you cannot ever forget.
We do not question the Master. The Master is always right.
Always.
Some puppets are given back their emotions, though. The exact criteria to gain your emotions are still a mystery. Most of the puppets who are given their emotions are knights. Many puppets want to be knights, but the Master does not let us choose our occupation. The Master chooses based on our strengths and weaknesses, and the Master always gives us the perfect job for us. A small fraction of puppets become knights. The rest are peasants or servants.
We do not question the choices the Master makes. The Master is always right.
Always.
We are all named the same thing. Female puppets are all named Marie Annette, nothing more. Male puppets are all named Harley Quinn, nothing more. We do not need special names because we are all the same. We may appear different, but we all have the same problems that all puppets face; we need something to depend on, we want emotions, and we are all empty. Different names are irrational; we are all the same, so we do not see the need for unique names. We are all puppets.
When puppets are given back their emotions, they are often given a new name to show how different they.
To show how better they are.
But these new humans are no match for the Master. Just as the Master can give you emotions, he can take them back. The Master shows no mercy because we are weaklings. We are beings that need constant maintenance. We need something to lean on in order to work. If we were to have emotions, we should feel grateful toward the godly Master for allowing us to be in the Master's presence. We are toys to be played with, and when we are no longer interesting, we die. It's quite simple.
We do not protest when the Master punishes us. No matter how loud we scream. No matter how much it hurts. The Master is always right.
Always.
"Marie Annette, get back into line," a stoic voice said. I stared at the ground before shuffling back into the straight, perfect line. I stared at the back of puppet's head in front of me, just like every other puppet in the line. The air of the Kingdom was cool and mild, the afternoon sun hanging high in the air. The grass around us was long and green, with the tips of the blades turning into a dry gold. The leaves of the trees were changing into a reddish-orange hue. We continued marching the perimeter of the Castle in quiet silence, the rings and clashes of our metal armor being the only thing we heard.
There were six puppets, including me. Three of them were male while the last two were female. After training as a knight for almost ten years, today would be the day where we would be inducted as knights. Not only was that important, but we would be able to gain the thing we've been waiting for the most: our emotions. In the corner of my eye I could see the Castle perched atop of a green mountain. The Castle was old with its eroded grey bricks and spiraling towers. A great stone wall shielded the Castle, protecting it and the Master from enemies. Would it be there where we would be given our emotions?
By now, we were walking through a long path towards the Castle. My legs began to tire out, and soon each step burned and ached. The puppets in front of me seemed fatigued as well, but, like me, they continued up the path. My eyes did not stray from the path before me. Curiosity was something that I am not familiar with, and I don't tend be distracted easily. Most puppets are like that, though. We do not think or question anything. We accept things with open arms, even if we do not fully understand it. We do not know much. We just do as we are told, and it must always be flawless.
However, we cannot create. We just place things and put them away. We do not question where our food comes from, or how our clothes are made. Puppets manage and sort. We can destroy things but not create. But that is okay, though. After all, only the Master can create things. If puppets were to learn how to create, then we would be protesting against the Master.
No one should protest against the Master.
Never.
I took in another clean breath of air before continuing into the Castle. It was cold and dark inside of the Castle, golden candelabras illuminating the hallways with a dim light. My eyes flickered up at them, watching the fire the burned the candles. Is that what emotions are like? Are they a fire that warms you, but will eventually burn you to your death? Is . . . is this what I really want?
Want. Such a strange word. It fills me with something, making me feel like I'm not completely empty. But I'm not completely full, either.
We came to a large doorway, where a richly-dressed puppet ushered us inside. Light poured out of the room as the puppet opened the door, blinding us as we went inside. When our eyes finally adjusted to the light, we saw that we were in the grand throne room. A precious red carpet led its way to where a single golden throne stood. The walls were a polished mahogany, with paintings and portraits hanging. A huge candelabrum stood in the middle of the room, shining brightly for all. A figure, draped in a red cape, sat in the throne, the top of the figure's head adorned with a crown. The person's face was masked, and we could not make out the skin tone or even the hair color. The Master was always a person of disguise. I did not wonder why the Master was always hidden, donned in red and gold.
Two knights stood on both sides of the Master, but I knew they were only for show. The Master is god, and he needs not protection from us puppets. He is our power. He is our beginning and our end. He is everything.
"Harley Quinn, step up to the Master to gain Knighthood," the two Knights said in unison, both of them speaking in a cold, empty voice. The first puppet in the front of the line obeyed, walking slowly towards the throne. He was a light-skinned puppet with dirty blonde hair, his eyes empty like a grey-blue sea. Once in front of the Master, he knelt, bowing towards him. The Master unsheathed a silver sword with his white-gloved hand. I expected him to speak, but the two knights were the ones who took his words.
"Harley Quinn, I hereby pronounce you as a Knight of the Kingdom. Upon this, you are to forever to fight for me and only me," the Knights recited. The Master raised his sword skyward before gently touching the puppet's shoulder with the silver blade. There were some whispered words that I couldn't make out, and the Knights spoke again. "From here on out," they said, "you shall be known as Alfred F. Jones as you wished."
The puppet—no, he wasn't a puppet anymore, the human— rose with a slight hop in his step, grinning as he stood to the side. I wasn't even looking at him, but I could still feel something radiating from him; it was something bright. Brighter than the millions of candles above us. The ceremony continued, and the Knights called the next puppet in line: a Marie Annette, just like me. She had long, platinum-blonde hair and pale skin. She was empty like me, too. Only two creatures were shining right now: the Master and Alfred.
When the woman was inducted as a Knight and given her emotions, the bright aura from Alfred was balanced by her dark and creepy ones. Her blue eyes that were once grey were now shining with obsession, a complicated emotion that I will never understand. She stood closely to Alfred, sharpening her nails behind her back by scratching her armor. The next puppet was a short Harley Quinn with jet-black hair and lifeless dark brown eyes. I noticed there was not much of a difference when he obtained his emotions, but perhaps he was just shy. Even if he was, I wouldn't understand. Marie Annette was next; she walked up towards the throne, her dark brown pigtails following her. Her skin was tanned and flawless, unlike most of us here. A bright feeling entered the room immediately when she was given her emotions, but it felt genuine instead of slightly obnoxious like Alfred's.
The puppet in front of me began to advance towards the Master, his silky blonde hair waving slightly as he walked. His skin was light, and his eyes were a dark blue-grey. He knelt towards the Master, and the same words spoken by the Knights were repeated. A warm aura filled the room once he was given his emotions. As he made his way to the side of the room, he winked at the brown-haired girl, making her blush in reply.
Now I was only left. I looked straight ahead, walking towards the Master very slowly when the Knights called my name. Something churned in my stomach, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Was it fear? Was it anxiety? Nervousness? No, those were things that I didn't have yet. Perhaps I was just hallucinating. Although I couldn't see his eyes, I felt like the Master was watching me. How was he viewing me right now? Was he proud? Or did he not even care for my meager accomplishments?
I kneeled, waiting for the blade to touch my shoulders. Seconds passed, and the Knights' monotone voices blended in the background. I heard only my heartbeat and the slow, calm breaths of the Master. No one has ever seen the Master without his mask. No one has seen his face. He is completely hidden, living the life within a masquerade. But he is our god and our life, and we come to accept this fact that we will never know what he truly looks like. Puppets rarely see the Master as it is. According to analysis, only eight percent of puppets have ever seen the Master. It seems that I am part of this eight percent.
"Marie Annette," he whispered into my ear as he placed the blade on my left shoulder. "I shall not grant you your emotions." My heart was racing, and I immediately replied with a, "Thank you, Master." It was only till then until I realized what he had actually said. I would not be receiving my emotions, just like the two Knights that stood next to him.
"Do not question my choice," he said huskily, a distinct edge in his voice. He knew that I was disappointed. But he wanted to make sure that he was still in charge. "Your emotions will only be the downfall to you, Marie Annette. You should be grateful that you will not have to go through such pain." I nodded, hanging onto every word. However, I could not help but feel sharp and cold, like steel. "I cannot feel grateful if I have no emotions, Master, but I understand," I replied in perfect monotone, like a stone. There was no emotion to my voice. There was no rise or fall in my voice. There was nothing. It didn't matter if he would hurt me; I was like an obedient dog. I had to keep the Master happy. I had to obey. If I didn't, I would be replaced and annihilated. It was as simple as that.
When he placed the blade on my right shoulder, he dug it in a bit, with just a bit of pressure so I could feel it. It wasn't enough to draw blood, but enough to bruise—a bruise that will haunt me for the time being. I heard the shaky exhale from the Master as he sheathed his sword.
"You will remain being called Marie Annette," the Knights said in unison. I stood and walked back to the side, my eyes not meeting the new Knights. All of them stared with curiosity in their eyes. Surely they were wondering the same thing I was forbidden to. Alfred, at the front of the group, walked in the middle of the room so we all faced the Master in a flawless horizontal line.
"Newly inducted Knights," the Knights said, "you are to receive a new mission. According to your tests and demonstrations, you are our elite team. Therefore, all information is strictly confidential. Spread this information to anyone and you will be annihilated or stripped of your status and your emotions." There was a pause after they said that last statement, letting it sink in. "Lately, there have been a group of people who wish to overthrow our beloved Master."
"No," someone breathed aloud from the group. "The Master is almighty! How can they possibly so insane to—"
"Alfred Jones," the Knights spoke briskly. "You have spoken out of turn. This will be a warning." The blonde flinched before nodding silently.
"The group has obtained something that endangers our great and holy Master. However, whatever this is affects only the Master, not you," the Knights said. "However, they are still very lethal. We want you to capture or kill this group immediately. Three other teams are on this case." We listened earnestly. In other words, it is a race to see who can take out the enemies first. However, if we were all to lose, then the Master will die.
"Surely you all know the consequences if the Master was to be overthrown, correct?" the Knights asked, their voices like impenetrable iron. We all nodded; if the Master was gone, life would be chaos. "People will grow to become out of control, unable to handle their emotions or situations rationally. Children will die, the houses will burn, and the world will be in pandemonium. The Master keeps us all in balance."
These words stung as I imagined such a horrid place without the Master. Fire, smoke, blood. Red, red, red everywhere. I imagined myself being burned alive, screaming, but with no one to hear me. I was alone.
Alone.
"The group has been spotted in the Aureus Province, namely around Mt. Lapis," the Knights informed. My mind thought of the Aureus Province, an area that was found in the climax of autumn, when the trees were gold and ruby and amber. Mt. Lapis was the second tallest mountain in the Kingdom, but it was known for its rugged edges. The people who lived there had little to no weapons or armies or even local militias. It was the perfect place for outlaws to streak havoc, but there are usually no outlaws because of who we are. Puppets are emotionless. We do not seek the need or want of pain or misery. The Master only grants emotions to those who can handle it.
Unlike like me.
"We understand and accept the mission," we all said in perfect unity. The Master dismissed us, and we all walked out of the Castle in a perfect straight line. By the time we were out of the area, the first one to speak was the ever-happy Alfred.
"Dude! This is totally off the hook!" he cried, making a strange motion with his fist. It was amazing how emotions and personalities can change someone so drastically. I remember during training how he was quiet and reserved, making his best effort out of everything he did. Now, he was loud and talkative and very obnoxious. "I can't believe that the Master gave us such a freaking awesome mission! I'm totally pumped!"
"Yeah, I'm really excited, too," the brown-haired girl, who I recognized as Michelle Laroche from when the Knights renamed her. "I just hope I don't mess up. . ." I felt warmed by her cute shakiness. If I was to have any personality, I would want hers.
"Oh, you don't 'ave to worry, ma chérie," the other blonde man said smoothly, wrapping an arm around Michelle. "I'm sure you won't~!"
"Francis, get off!" she cried, prying him off her. The blonde, Francis, chuckled while Michelle flushed a dark red. I watched the in amusement as we continued walking.
"Where are we going, Alfred?" the platinum-haired girl snarled. She was the one who was sharpening her nails before, and I could tell by the fresh scratches that the girl had succeeded. I had not even realized that we were blindly following the loud man, and said man turned towards the girl.
"To the Aureus Province, of course! I mean, duh! Weren't you listening to the Master, Natalia?" he asked, laughing heartily. Natalia pursed her lips, narrowing her dark blue eyes at Alfred. I felt out of place watching them, the newborn humans with their bright, unique personalities. I had forgotten about the last person in our group, the short, raven-haired man who refrained from speaking. Thinking back to training, he was not very strong. However, he was smart and quick, a great contrast to Alfred. But what if these skills were altered by his personality and emotions? I walked to the side of him at a respectable distance, just far enough so he wouldn't notice me. Looking at his face, I noticed there wasn't much of a difference when he was Harley Quinn. He was still quiet with a stoic face. Kiku Honda, if I remember correctly.
"Alfred-san?" he asked softly, budging into Natalia's and Alfred's argument. "The Aureus Province is to the west of the Castle, but we are going north." The two stopped fighting, staying in their spot. Michelle, who was blushing from Francis's flirty remarks, saw that something was going on, and walked up next to me. Francis followed.
"I told you, you idiot," Natalia hissed darkly. "You don't even know where you're going!"
"Pfft, I knew I was going north the whole time," he said, waving off Natalia's anger. He smiled brightly to Kiku. The small man nodded. "However, it wirr take weeks to reach the province by foot, so I suggest we get a faster kind of transportation. Horses are our onry option."
We walked to Castleville, a boisterous town that was extremely close to the Castle. Older puppets took no notice to us, but the younger ones gaped and awed. We stood out from the plain-clothed crowd; we wore shiny, polished metal armor and held a variety of weapons. They were dirty with their worn-out dresses and shirts, their faces tired and empty. How silly I probably would have looked to them; I had the expression of a puppet but a status of a knight. I was alone. I did not belong with my group, but I did not belong to the peasants or servants either.
We found an old puppet, manager of the barn that raised horses. He might have been malfunctioning because his eyes stared straight to nowhere, and he didn't seem to acknowledge a single word we said. However, we found the prices for each breed of horses he had, and we all paid our small amounts of gold by placing it on the counter where he sat behind. For the most part, we all knew how to ride a horse. That was part of our training. Some puppets found it easier to ride them, like Francis and Alfred. Michelle, Natalia, Kiku, and I were a bit shaky on it. It took us nearly five tries for the horse to finally calm down for us. Mine was stubborn and sassy, deliberately going to opposite direction I commanded it to. It threw me off at every chance it got. The horse was trying to prove a point to me; it told me that I couldn't ride it, no matter how many tries. It was rising against its superior. It was telling me that it was free.
If I was to get my emotions, I would have loathed my horse.
After finally getting it to obey me, (Francis had insisted on helping. . . He was the main reason that I was riding my horse) we trotted to west. Kiku had said that all we had to do was follow the sun. We were deep in the woods, the crunch of the fallen leaves being our only sound. My mind wandered to that old puppet with his vacant grey eyes. I thought of if he was malfunctioning, and I wondered what would happen when the Master found out.
There were two types of malfunctions: either the puppet's empty body had stopped working and was dead, or the puppet had emotions that weren't granted by the Master. Either way, you always died. Puppets can't fix things, we only sort of destroy. Now, my mind was wandering to a long time ago, before I was destined to be a Knight.
I was eight years of age, the age where we started to really learn about what we puppets are truly supposed to do. The young class was in a store, a store that was to open two weeks from that day. We were to figure out how to sort things. We needed to categorize the items in the most efficient way. The store was general; it had pens, paper, crayons, and a number of other ordinary items. My eyes were fixed on one particular object: a music box. Most puppets do not bother with music nowadays, since there is no use to it. However, this music box was different. While all the others made a loud, bright, happy sound, this music box made a slow, soft sound. It was quite, like a soft whisper in a night. I found myself continuously listening to it. I made up lyrics to the song, too.
"La, la, la, la, I sing myself goodnight," I sang along to the melody, singing the same note over and over again. "Promising the stars that everything's alright. La, la, la, la, lalala la laaa. Make—" My song stopped when the storekeeper grabbed the music box. She analyzed it with cold brown eyes.
"This does not play like the rest of them," she said. "I will annihilate it immediately." I stared at the box, looking at its unique and special design that was unlike the rest of the boxes. If it wouldn't play the same song as everything else, couldn't it be at least fixed so we could save the design? I asked the shopkeeper that, and she just stared at me. I will never forget how she stared at me, either. It was cold, so cold that it made me almost believe that I knew what fear felt like.
"Puppets do not fix," she said, her voice strong and hard. "We sort. If we cannot sort something, or if it's different from the rest, we annihilate it." That's all there was to it. If something did not fit in, then we destroy it.
It was that same day when I saw someone malfunction. He was a Harley Quinn with very light hair. His eyes were a strange color, a color that made him stand out. The teacher was next to him, watching him sort. From what I could tell, he was doing a horrible job. He mixed things items together in the categories, and the teacher kept trying to help him, but he'd slap her hand away.
"It's awesome," he said, finishing. The items were all mixed, jumbled, and totally out of place. "The items balance each other's flaws out, making the ultimate army." I had not understood what he meant. All the items were so unalike, so alien. It looked wrong to put them together like that, the way that boy did. The teacher shook her head. "No, that is incorrect. You want to sort them like this." She reached towards his pile of items, but he slapped it away with a harder force than before.
"Don't touch," he said firmly. I noticed the rise in his voice, which was so different to everyone else's. His eyes glimmered with fire and cockiness. He was fighting with the teacher. He was rising against the teacher. He was disobedient. The teacher glowered at him, taking him with a great force of strength by grabbing his wrists. They exited the store, and I couldn't help but hear the boy's roars and screams as the Knights took him away. The next day of class, the boy wasn't there. Same as the next day. And the next. And the next. And the next. I remembered how I would always expect him to walk into class like nothing ever happened, his face quiet and emotionless just like everyone else. But I had finally came to reality when I realized he would never come back. When he was in the store, there was a fire inside him. A fire that shined beautifully, but he annihilated because of that light. He was annihilated because he was different.
So what was I, then? I am different within this group, and I am different within society. I wonder if that's how those two knights felt, the ones that stood by the Master. Were they always there? Afraid that they would be shunned by the rest of the world? No, they couldn't feel scared. That was something that neither I nor those Knights could do. We may not feel fear, but that means we can't feel confidence either. We are forever in the middle. Average. Mild. We cannot be swayed. What is worse? Tasting the flavors of both victory and defeat or not being able to taste anything at all? Perhaps we are stone. We are cold and hard. But maybe we're just nothing. Nothing at all.
I think they were ignoring me, my group. I had to snap myself out of my mind's wandering when I realized that they were very far ahead. I kicked my horse, telling it to go faster. Feeling the wind through my hair in that moment of bliss was truly exhilarating, a feeling that was something that made me feel as though I'm gliding. I think my horse was happy to run too because it whined when I had it come to a stop. The sun was in front of us, blinding our eyes. It looked like it was balancing on top of the mountain in the distance. Huh. What a silly remark to think of something like that.
I hope I wasn't malfunctioning.
I looked at my group. Alfred had pleaded to be in front of everyone, believing that it looked more heroic. Kiku and Natalia followed close behind, with Michelle slightly more next to Alfred. Francis was on his horse in the back, distracted by the beautiful scenery. Wanting to stay with the group, I galloped close to Francis. The blonde man looked behind me with a dangerously lethal look in his eyes, his hand touching the hilt of his sword. I flinched, not expecting such ferocity. He blinked before calming down, giving me an apologetic smile.
"My apologies, ma chérie," he explained when I trotted next to him. "I thought you were an intruder."
"Apology accepted," I said stoically. My voice . . . was so robotic. "Did Kiku estimate how long it would take to get to the Aureus Province?" The man nodded, looking at me straight in the eye.
"Oui," he sighed. "Eet would take about a week to get to the first town, but we would be in the Province within four days." Four days. It sounded long.
"Oh," was all I could say. Puppets weren't meant for conversation. We had no feelings to speak of. It was just facts and numbers. I wished we were more than just that, though. The thickness of this silence was getting uncomfortable.
We were quiet, and I found myself hoping that he would say something. Something—anything to start talking. It made me feel like I fit in just a little bit more. That would be wonderful. I stared at Francis with blank eyes, hoping he would talk.
"Do you zink it's beautiful?" he asked after a long pause. He smiled perversely before calling to Michelle, "But not as beautiful as my little Chelles~! Ohonhonhonhon!" He was met with flustered reply of, "S-shut up!"
I wanted to say it was beautiful, say it was the most breathtaking thing I've seen in my life. But when I spoke, it never came from my heart. My brain did the talking, using intimidating large words and factual meanings.
"The beauty of the area around us is irrelevant to our mission," I said, wanting to take every cold, heartless, steel word back, but I couldn't. I had no emotion, and if I did, I'd be malfunctioning. And then I would die.
I do not want to die.
Francis was quiet after that. I was not only a steel rock, but I was an icy one, too. A rock that would have to thaw before understanding the world of love and hate. I felt frozen the whole way, even when we decided to camp for the night. I wondered why I was to be like this. Why it was me who had to have no emotions. Could I not control them? Yes, that was the answer, even the Master said it. I am uncontrollable. A monster. Alone.
But it weren't my words that hurt. It was when we were just about to fall asleep, and Natalia whispered, "You are the chain that holds us to the Master."
I had not understood what she meant by that, but I could tell by her dark, menacing tone that she did not like me, just like the rest of them.
I am the chain that holds them to the Master. . .
I closed my eyes, letting myself drift away. I was engulfed with the darkness, hiding behind it.
I am the chain that holds them to the Master . . . because. . .
They know that he can take their emotions away, and make them become lifeless.
Like me, Marie Annette.
A/N: *Looks at words* HOLY SCHNITZEL WAS THAT LONG! I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter! Unlike all of my chapters, I have everything planned out (Eh, more or less) Could you all review, please? I love them so much! And don't forget to favorite/follow!
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. . . Hm, wasn't that supposed to go in the beginning? Eh, whatever.