Acedia

"Mother… I'll be good, I swear! Please don't hurt me, Mommy!"

Her chin lifted quickly and she nearly found her left arm colliding with the lantern to her left. Raising a hand into her hair, she drew her fingertips across her forehead. There were those worry lines again. It was to be expected, though. Just when she thought that things would calm down, something happened that automatically drew her right back into that coffin of torment.

"Mother…" she murmured to herself before leaning forward and resting against the desk again. "…I'm so sorry, Mother…"

She was crying again.

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"Is your lady friend quite all right?" Urick asked with a jerk of his head in her direction.

Nowe glanced over to the blonde-haired female at his side. She looked as though she was miles and miles away, perhaps so far that not even Legna could reach her. Red eyes stared at the sky with a preoccupied expression lying behind them. No matter what she could have said, he wouldn't be convinced. There was definitely something bothering her. In fact, it had begun the moment she'd seen the one-eyed man in the City of Rust. What was it about him that controlled her so much? Why did she look so pained?

He reached over cautiously with a hand and prodded her gently in the side. "Manah?"

His companion nearly jumped and she looked between Urick and Nowe thoughtfully. She'd done it again, it seemed. Manah brushed herself off and shook her head slowly. "I'm sorry. Did I miss something important?"

Urick felt his eyebrows furrow. He couldn't agree that nonchalance was the way to go about all of this. Of course, Nowe was giving him the look that told him not to confront it with that lack of tact he was so good at holding.

"Maybe we should leave you here with the dragon," he finally decided to stay. "You might be of more use here than with us. Not that I'm doubting your abilities or anything like that. I just think you would be better off here. It's hard to block those balls of fire and the blocks of ice when you're busy staring off into space."

"Urick!" Nowe exclaimed with the warning tone.

Manah looked between the two and she felt hurt for a moment. One more person was telling her that she wasn't useful. Urick was her friend, though, and she wanted to believe he would never say something to her to intentionally hurt her. Those words held some degree of nostalgia for her, however. She wasn't sure if her mother had ever said those things, but it wouldn't be completely out of the ordinary.

Eighteen years had passed and she had tried to repress the memories. Even as she stood there, she could only see glimpses of what had happened. They were like flashing pictures. They only lasted for moments, and it was only during the situations where her quick reflexes were crucial. In that respect, perhaps she could be considered a bit of a nuisance. After all, if the other two couldn't rely on her for help, then she was better off not being involved.

"I'm really sorry," she began to plead. Her lips turned down and her expression grew desperate. No matter what happened, she didn't want Nowe and Urick to abandon her. Of all the things in the world to happen, she couldn't have that.

"Don't worry about it, Manah," Nowe replied.

He patted her on the shoulder and he smiled rather brightly. He was always the one reassuring her. She clearly had her own issues that he didn't need to be involved with. He didn't need to pry. Yes, she sometimes made things a little more difficult, but if he didn't get anything by exerting some effort, then he didn't deserve anything. The hard work paid off, even when it caused by an ally.

Urick sighed. Once more, they were at her compassion, it seemed. "I was just looking out for your best interest. Don't look so upset, princess. Frowns aren't becoming on ladies. Try to smile a little more, all right? You really do look much better when you're wearing one."

With a lifted hand, he gestured to his own smirk and he nodded once, as though to confirm his words.

Oh, Urick… You do have a valid point. And I suppose a part of me believes you could be pretty enough to be a lady too. If a smile looks so good on you, then it must on me as well.

"I will try," Manah managed to reply.

That seemed good enough for her two companions. Then again, had she paid attention, she might have realized that Nowe was not a hard man to please. Well, young man. He was younger than her, wasn't he? By a good six or seven years, at least. As she looked between the two, she folded her arms over her chest, and decided to herself that Urick must have been older by a great deal—except he didn't look it.

How does he keep such a youthful complexion? This man looks as though he could be my age.

She thought idly of her brother, Seere, who was making his name known throughout the lands of Drakengard. Would he remember her? Did he think of her? They were twins, after all. She imagined that they likely felt the same when it came to sentimental concepts. She often wondered how he was doing, and what he was like. She knew well enough that he was still in that small body of his, the price of the pact he'd made with Golem. They were the same age, and yet… It wouldn't seem it from an initial glance.

"And look at that. She's flown off into space all over again. You had better just take her by force. Perhaps we can get away with bringing your dragon as well. Perhaps." Urick nudged Nowe again in order to get his attention.

The boy most commonly referred to as the 'saviour' faced his father's friend and he nodded. "We may not have a choice, Urick. Thankfully we have you to keep us going on our journey. I am grateful to you."

It was the last thing that Manah's ears picked up before she found an arm curled around hers. Into the direction of the City of Rust.

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He was staring at her with those eyes again. His lips were moving, but he wasn't saying anything. Well, not with his voice. She was reading his words. He was telling her to keep her eyes open and to look over the world.

Remember the things you have done. Remember these things and hold them in your heart. You may be a child, but you have also been forced to grow up. I am here to watch you grow up. You will become a woman who will pay the consequences for your actions. You will be hated. You will be pitied. You will be punished for your hatred that you took out upon the world.

It was no great secret that if it had been up to him, the blade of his sword would have neatly sliced her throat and likely lobbed her head off. He always looked so angry, she thought, even through the veil of tears that often clouded her sight. He looked so upset. He looked so hurt. He was like an animal, helpless to an extent and frightened. What was there to come? He must have been wondering this. In fact, she was wondering it too. When he took her all over Drakengard, what would he do next? Perhaps he would simply grasp her hand tightly and restart the journey all over again. Would she never be given a chance to rest? Would he never offer her the ability to sleep a peaceful sleep?

I don't deserve it. I'm so sorry… I'm really, really sorry! I didn't mean to! I didn't want to hurt anyone! Please don't hurt me anymore!

Those were the kinds of words that often went ignored. He had once said something along the lines of actions being far more significant than words, and that had provoked her crying. Apparently weeping, however, held no power or influence over him, or those simply weren't the actions that he was looking for. So if those weren't good enough, then what was he looking for?

Manah would spend those years with him and another fifteen contemplating the answer. And she would never come to find it.

Her situation caused her to lash out. In the name of her own protection, in the name of what she believed was best for her, she took a knife to his left eye and pried it from his skull before taking off into the night. She was free. She was liberated. She was the bird that was no longer caged. Consumed by her sorrow in her childhood, Manah fled to a village in the outskirts of the world, a place where she would never be found until she wished it, and there, she lived in an uneasy peace and tranquility. Over time, she forgot of the pain she'd caused. With progression, she grew into a beautiful young woman who believed she was following the path of the righteous.

I must destroy the seals and save these people. They are sacrificed by the Knights of the Seal. What is their crime? Breathing the air? Smelling the flowers? It is my position to protect them. I will protect them. I will save them, and in order to do this, those seals must be destroyed.

She aged with this belief, truly convinced that she was doing what was proper. Her past and her regrets were locked away in a chest, thrust into the depths of her heart, never to be opened again. Yet she was following the same path she had years before.

It came back to her the moment she saw him in the city. That particular man. The one-eyed man.

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"No!"

Manah shrieked, planting her hands over her ears. She shut her eyes tightly and immediately curled up. If she hadn't, it was most likely that she would have begun to roll back and forth, the way a child does when it's about to set out on a temper tantrum.

"Mother, forgive me! Mother, don't hurt me! Mother, I'm sorry! Mother, I just want you to love me!"

Could that creature ever have been capable of love, though? The woman who called herself the mother of Manah and Seere? Logical thought often wandered on its own when feelings were involved. It would be a hard lesson learned, if ever learned at all.

Manah was loved. She just failed to see it. One could choose to say that she was loved by her friends, that she was loved by Nowe and by Urick. Perhaps, she may have even been loved by Eris, who in her own right had the privilege of hating the blonde-haired woman. She was loved by her brother as well. Blinded by her sorrow, however, she was unable to recognize it. In the end, it may have been that the type of love they held for her was not what she defined as love at all. The love of a friend, or of a sibling was not the same as the type of love offered by a mother.

There was another love that she neglected to acknowledge. It was this love that turned her into the creature she had begun. She was loved by the Gods. She was loved by the Nameless. She was loved by the Grotesqueries. She was loved, indeed, and she had forced this love away. With, or without the influence of others, Manah had cast them aside.

For that, she would suffer an eternal punishment. Her ungrateful nature would be marked, heeded, and observed. Manah would simply pay with her life.

It was the doomed position of a pawn.