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James McCloud, the Forsaken
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I am James McCloud, called Fox, leader of team Star Fox.
I am Taken.
I remember the life I once led before. I remember a shadow hanging over me — it was my father. I sought to prove myself, to strengthen myself and break free of that oppressiveness. I determined to become better, greater, than he. Andross, my father's killer, I threw down twice. First over Venom, second over Sauria.
I remember a woman — her name escapes me. She is pleasant to look at; I feel a stirring within me; is this longing or lust? I feel nothing else. She is irrelevant. But still I remember her. I met her on Sauria — clearly, do I recall as Andross broke free from his prison, using her body as conduit. I acted without thought, using the staff to stave off certain death. She was grateful. I acted only as I should. She was innocent. She would have died.
The Aparoids came two years later. Their advance was relentless, they destroyed all they touched. But we persevered and survived. The Aparoids' strength was broken. Their worlds were ours to claim. The Cornerian coalition spread across the stars. Then Star Fox divided. I know not how, other than my own selfishness. I drove this woman away, fearful for her safety. I was wrong. She handled herself well enough; why, then, did I do as I did?
Love. I loved her as I did myself, but she never reciprocated. I myself could not express it to her.
I blame my father. He never was there for me. He always attended my birthdays, attended the school dances as a chaperone, when he had the time, but not long. He and mother were distant. He was forever working, oftentimes for months. Later did I understand why he spent so little with us — he tried desperately to provide for his family, and work was scarce. Defeating space pirates and shepherding spice caravans paid little. Mother spent more time out of the house than in, working her own job.
I was alone.
Yet I did not mind. They did not mind — my father was a proud man. He rejected work with the army, believing it would restrain him, confine his talents and abilities. My mother thought likewise. But she wanted the best for her only son, so she enrolled me in the best schools she could afford, hoping that I would become a pilot, like my father before me. Forget what they say about opposites attract: my parents were one and the same.
I worked hard, passing all of my tests and quizzes. I made excellent scores, and acquired scholarships into many fine institutes of learning. For me, the Academy was all I wanted. For however little time my father spent with us, he did leave me with a sense of wonder at the joy of spaceflight. I wanted to be like him.
In a way, I suppose this was love.
I came home one day to find the house empty. The phone had a message — it was the local hospital. My mother had been injured in a dreadful accident. I met my father at the door. We exchanged not a word but went together at once. There my mother died, in my father's arms. He swore vengeance against whomever had done this. I too vowed my own oath.
We learned it was Andross. Years before he and my father had competed for my mother's affections. It seemed he had moved on since, but my father had not. They had some sort of enmity that I suppose was mine to inherit. In vain did my father attempt to get him, but he was above reproach. Then the bomb detonated. No one ever knew what its real cause was — all the evidence was tied to Andross. One million people, dead. A portion of the planet's biosphere, wasted. Several hundred blocks of the city, obliterated and irradiated. Andross was disbarred, court-martialed, and exiled. My father swore eternal hatred.
I suppose revenge can go too far.
Andross never forgave Corneria. He too plotted revenge. He took it not too long after. This time my father accepted the Cornerian military's letter of recommendation (for he was a mercenary of some small renown, however meager it was), and led the charge. To die miserably a billion kilometers from home, before he ever reached Venom. I was angry. I led a similar attack when I had reached my majority. I killed him in my father's name. Not directly; that was enough.
But I was empty, I had no purpose after this. I suppose this is what regret feels like. Revenge changed my father, and it has changed me. This here is my life — and lo! it is nothing. She would be disappointed in me, that I have become a disgrace.
I never was able to express my love. She could never understand me — I understood her as best as I could. She was not like all the other girls. She was different. Perhaps she was like my mother, of how she captured my father's affections. She was the only light in my world.
And now, as my breath leaves me, I only ask one thing — another chance to live again. So that I may remake my life, and find her.
My intention is clear. Even as my team was cut apart, our flanks overwhelmed by creatures of darkness and fell flesh, destroyed from within, my purpose is illuminated, clear as day. I hear a comforting voice talking to me. It speaks encouragement. It tells me I can find her again. She will not be the same, this I know.
Will she even remember me? Will I be able to tell her how much she meant to me? She challenged me in a way that none other have. She broke me out of my narcissism, the trap my father and mother have laid for me. I could see it in her eyes on Sauria. Kind and understanding. Accepting. Loving. But like a statue of ice, slowly melting.
I have Forsaken my former life. It is no longer me. I will take a new shape. The voice has offered to me a knife; she says I must [seek a new path]. It is a fitting name. One that reflects who I will become. There is a new shadow before me, the King, his hand outstretched in greeting.
One day, I will find my love, and my final purpose.
But for now I shall wait. I shall acquiesce.
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