To The Weight of The World
"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on." — Robert Frost
It had been two years since I arrived in this new world and discovered my new unique ability. Or, better yet, my utter lack of skill in the act of dying. In a very uncharacteristic manner, I had panicked, cried, screamed. The news had been all too much and even now it still overwhelms me; I have to restrain myself from unleashing a technique that its brute power would shape the terrain into something new.
I had gone to the town sitting upon the lake after coming to grip about my new bleak future that day. I had only wanted to ask for directions and move on so I could continue to sulk. The answers I had gotten overwhelmed me with panic again but I hid it behind my indifferent guise.
That day, two years ago, I somehow woke up in Middle Earth and it was nothing like home. The land was filled with humans, dwarves, elves, orcs, and many more beings I had never heard of before. They regaled me with stories of all sort of creatures but dragons piked my interest for one by the name of Smaug lived within the lone mountain that looked down on the town.
I had decided to stay in the Laketown — its name was less original than that of the hidden villages — for a few years to get my bearings. I lead peaceful life now as a Weaver's apprentice as I absorbed all I could about new world.
According to her Master, elves were like humans, only far more graceful and beautiful. They were isolated peoples and there was a kingdom of them within the nearby forest of Mirkwood. Then there were the orcs, whom he described to be vile, heinous creatures that I should hope to be lucky to never cross paths with one. The dwarves were the most interesting to hear about. They were small humans that were renowned for their craftsmanship and had a sinful desire for gold and metals. It was that greed that brought Smaug to the lone mountain — again, named so spectacularly 'The Lonely Mountain'.
Generations ago the dwarves amassed a large amount of gold and treasure within their nearby stronghold. Smaug laid waste to a neighbouring city called Dale and captured the Lonely Mountain in his own greed. The surviving Dwarves from that tragic day were driven into exile, while for the last 171 years, Smaug has hoarded the treasures. However, a company of Dwarves past through the town only days prior on a quest to reclaim their homeland.
Which brings me to this very moment as I stand on the roof of a house and blandly stare at the dragon unleashing his hellfire on Laketown. Clearly, the dwarves awakened the dragon and angered him to the point for it to lay waste on innocent bystanders.
It would be so easy to interfere and stop Smaug. I could save plenty of lives and their livelihoods. He was half the size of any tailed beast and his attacks are limited to only breathing fire. Maybe wood-style to hold him down followed quickly by a lightning technique to end him before his fire burns through the wood. Having him fight with a Water Dragon using Water Style would be an interesting show, and even trapping him within a Water Prison sounded tempting. Perhaps if I choked him he would explode from the pressure of the heat build up in chest. Maybe -
I stopped myself in thoughts before I could make further plans to help.
I had decided after many failed attempts of creating seals to transport me home that it was in the benefit of everyone that I lived cursed in this new world. All on the basis of what world was it better to store the chakra?
Her home where chakra-crazed manics would seek the chakra and could threaten the safety of everyone she loves? Or this strange land where the concept of chakra is alien and she herself is a stranger everywhere? It was a simple choice.
Everything I love would be safe as long as I stayed here. So what if my planned failed? As long as the chakra remained inside me then all would be alright. Even if I would have to spend eternity alone, roaming the earth like a ghost, I would pay the price if it meant keeping the power from those who would abuse it.
I would bear the burden.
And if the Kaguya's chakra was to remain lost and forgotten, then I need to be no one. I was to be a spectator to events that flow through the sea of time. I would be a witness to the cycle of life. I would watch towns, cities, kingdoms, rise and fall.
Laketown would simply be the first of many.
I jumped with a flip in the air and when my feet hit the surface of the water, I sprang off. Over the water I ran and hopped on roofs, twisting and turning, until I made it to shore.
My clothes flapped against my bandaged limbs and my short silver strands danced in flurry as I witnessed the decimation with a clenched jaw. Everything was ablaze and the air was heavy, whether from the fumes or death. Each breathe was a reminder of who I once was — the White Demon. I gripped my katana tightly as my eyes flashed with images of towns I burnt to the ground. Laketown was the same image. Now, even if I was not the one responsible, I was as guilty as Smaug.
I knew my responsibility but my mind keeps repeating, what would Naruto do? He would help. He would say, "Damn the responsibility. I won't run away from a fight!" But I am not him so I let the guilt consume me and the darkness wrap itself around my heart.
The screams of the townsfolk are filled with terror and sorrow and the more I hear the desperate calls for loved ones, I feel the wall I had built around me as a child begin to rise. How many slaughters would it take to revert back the White Demon?
Well, one done, infinity more to go. What a pain — why does eternity have to be such a long time?