There is, for anyone interested, a version of this chapter in Spanish.
Bittersweet Sword: Suicidal Rose
Rath looked down from his window. He saw Rune and Thatz, one meditating, the other taking to him, ignoring the death glares the first one gave him. The red haired knight sighed, taking in the fresh air and the bright sun. But he didn't see the sun, nor the light, or the beautiful flowers that dotted the landscape. He only saw darkness, shadows, looking at the world through the curtain of darkness that had veiled his soul. He could only feel hatred for the brightness his world now lacked. Hatred for the people who loved him, who took him in despite what he was. How was that possible? How could he feel hatred and disgust for those who had cared and protected him since he was young? Whom he had grown up all his life with? Those who had nursed him when sick, taught him when healthy? Why had they taken him in? Why had they done it?
He was sick of his life. He was nothing but a living lie. Nothing worthy of living. He was the toy of the powerful. His life was a bluff, the result of an act of pity. Why? He hated his past. His life was a lie. And he was the liar. Acting. Acting like he loved these people, when in truth he hated them. He was lied to, and it had taken a demon like him to tell him the truth. Despite all the lies he knew the truth of his life. The hidden, feared truth. And with this truth he couldn't live. Not happily. Not with peace. His mind was whirling with hate, fear, confusion. Why had they taken pity on a wretched demon who'd killed over half the population of Dusis?
But they wouldn't have taken pity on him if he hadn't taken the form of Illuser. A creature that the Lord held dear. If he hadn't taken that form, Lord Lykouleon would have never refused to kill him. He would have never used his power to transform him into a dragon boy. And then to top it off, that idiot Ruwalk had to name him Illuser. Rath Illuser. 'Rath' didn't hurt him. It was whenever someone spoke his last name that he cringed, that his soul was stabbed with the knowing of his crimes. That his cold heart remembered once again. His sleep was haunted with his memories, reincarnated when the alchemist had revealed his life to him in those snowy mountains so many years ago. And with his revealed past he couldn't live. Ever.
He'd killed so many people. Why had they saved him? They had saved him only bring him to this life of pain. To make him into a knight and give him the red dragon ball. To teach a cold hearted demon, a killing machine, to teach him to love... taught him immeasurable pain. His dragon heart held emotions, emotions his demon side rejected. It pained him to feel emotions. It pained him to love because he then also felt guilt and remorse for his crimes. The pain... the cold, stabbing pain, killing him slowly. What had they been thinking? Their actions had brought him suffering. He was falling apart, slowly, painfully. There was no respite from his emotional pain. But it was starting to affect his body too. Sleeping more, eating less, feeling tired, unresponsive, getting sick easier.
Someone knocked on the door. Rath swiveled around, tense, and then sighed when he saw it was only Kai-stern.
"Hey Rath, whatcha doing?" the albino smiled. He walked over to the window balcony, taking off his glasses and taking his place next to the red-haired youth.
"Nothing..." Rath lied, hiding his true feelings and thoughts from the only person who'd ever been there for him unconditionally, in his worst times and best. And here he was, lying once again, to him, despite the promise he'd made to him years ago, after his snowy mountain scenario. He was the only person he could maybe, just maybe, love. Not the false trickery in which he loved the Dragon Tribe, acting, feigning that he liked them, when inside he was screaming his hatred, dying to express it. He didn't feel that hatred for Kaistern. He could be happy with Kaistern. His love was stronger than the pain he felt by loving.
But no more. He couldn't live on like this. It was tearing him apart. He was afraid he'd told Cesia about it. But he wasn't sure. He'd been drunk enough to not remember, and Cesia had told him that he hadn't said anything out of the ordinary. For once, she was the liar. But now, he'd go crazy with all the lies he had to tell and live with. He wished he could be open and honest, but he was afraid it'd cost him the little relief and happiness that was left when he was with Rune and the others. Although... Kaistern loved him, and he knew about his demon side... He knew about all the people he'd killed, and about how he'd turned into Illuser. How Lykouleon had taken pity on him and turned him into what he was now. Dragon on the outside, demon inside. He'd grown up without memories of the deaths he'd caused, the life he'd led as a horrible, bloodthirsty youkai.
He wanted to bury his face in his hands, scream in horror, and lay there, but he kept his smile plastered on and his face neutral. Just for Kaistern. Or would he hide it for everyone? He didn't know anything anymore. Everything that happened forced him to wonder if it was another lie, another trick from destiny. And destiny had a cruel fate prepared for him, he knew that. Destiny just wanted to make it harder on him. Life wasn't going to let up anytime soon.
"Oh, well you just looked kind of depressed from down there. You okay?" he sat and wrapped his arms around Rath, pulling him closer and bringing his face closer to Rath's neck.
"Of course, don't worry, I'm fine," His smile covered the anguish of his soul. And Kaistern, unknowing, was satisfied with his answer. Lovingly, he kissed the red-haired boy's neck.
"Good, we wouldn't want anything to happen to you. If there's something wrong, tell me," Rath felt the blue officer's smile against his skin. It was these moments that gave him enough courage to live. Made him feel worthy of living. They were these moments with the blue dragon that he lived for. But no longer. They were no longer enough. The sweet feeling he used to get was gone. Now, what was left of his kisses was a bittersweet taste. Unfortunately for him, or was it fortunately? Rath didn't even know what fortune was anymore; Kaistern had begun to notice, and for a while had doubted if Rath really loved him anymore. Those days, he'd wandered the halls, a somber look on his face. Rath had to assure him otherwise. Now without the doubt, he'd begun to think something was seriously wrong with Rath. It was from there that the constant care and affections he was displaying had come from. And for a while, those extra affections had been enough to keep Rath with the idea that life wasn't so horrible all the time. But his time was done. Ever since he's stumbled on the truth about his life up in those snowy mountains all those years ago, a clock had been ticking, grains of sand sliding past as his life flew by. Begun when he'd realized he was not worth living. All Kaistern had done was add more sand. The last grain had fallen; it was only a matter of time before its effects were felt. He leaned against Kaistern, taking from him everything he could. Trying to regain life and merit. Love and assurance.
"KAISTERN!" the two of them cringed from Alfeegi's lethal bellow.
"I guess I'm heading to my death. Say goodbye to me in my funeral," a desperate smile lined his face. He picked up his glasses and stood. He left without knowing how his actions and words could so be applied to Rath. Irony was always present in Rath's life. A new idea had formed in his head, so simple he couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it before. Cesia would be mad. For the first time in ages, the fire knight smiled in thoughts of the near future.
How he hated his life. There was no salvation from the flames that ate him from inside, threatening his sanity with their cry of his truth. The truth he couldn't run away from. He slept at night, fever ravaging his weakened frame, listening to the voices of Lord Lykouleon, Raseleane, all the ones he deceived. He lived a lie that had grown out of his control, higher than he could reach. He hated them, but had to keep faking that he liked them, and that clawed at his soul. He hated them because he loved them, and they him. He hated them because he was their toy. He hated them because of what they had done to him. They knew his pain, they knew of his act. Why hadn't they killed him when they had the chance? Why had they given him a life from which there was no respite, no peace, no happiness, rest, or worse, liberty? Liberty to love how he wanted to love, hate whom he wanted to hate. He lived a life trapped in servitude to the Dragon Clan. All because of the amulet. With it, his demon powers were strong. So strong, he was afraid sometimes it would take him over. Turn him into that cold being that had tried to rip the souls of the living, feeding upon their freshly slaughtered carcasses. And with it, he was tied to the Dragon Clan. But without it, he lost consciousness. In fact, he guessed that if he went long enough without it, he'd die. It was life, or death. Slavery or liberty. To him, it was slavery or death.
He was a knight without honor. One who'd never unsheathed his sword in goodness, only in demented pleasure. Had no life of his own, was a toy in the hands of many. Ones who loved him too much for who he was, and others who wanted him too much for what he was. A horrible demon, capable of slaughtering all of Dusis for sickening pleasure. He almost had before. And who knew who else wanted him for who knew what reasons. But they all wanted him for their plans. He was a powerful rook in a game of chess. Whoever possessed him had a powerful piece in their hands. He refused to be a piece in their game, but he had no choice. He didn't want to be wanted, except how Kaistern wanted him. He'd been a puppet since the day he'd been created as a demon by Kharl, destined to become a dragon. His past was full of trickery, deceit, blood, lust, death, treason, desperation, misery, hatred, and pain. He didn't deserve life, and she not him. He didn't want life anymore, and she the same.
That's why he couldn't follow the path she'd set for him, naïvely assuming he'd follow blindly, without eyes. They had been blind once, but now they were open and seeing the devastated path she trekked him through. And he decided to leave the path, make own of his own. Cut the cords that tied him to his real life. Immerse himself in a sleep from which he would never wake, and hence never feel pain again. To find salvation, happiness.
He looked around his room, his head hurt, pounding sorely inside. His body felt slow and heavy, weak and hot. His slow gaze fell on his sword. The sword that was his companion in his favorite hobby: Hunting demons. His largest pleasure in life, slaying yokai. Some thought his obsession was demented. It was another lie. He really wasn't as obsessed as he made out that he was. They all thought it was an obsession, and it had become one, but not as strong as he acted it was. It was another part of his never ending act. Another mask to hide the real Rath underneath. It was at first, a way for him to stand out, become strong and powerful, be feared and respected. He'd simply had an attraction to it, and was good at it. That was before finding out the truth about himself. Then he'd found that hunting demons gave him a reason to leave the castle, leave far, far away from the people he hated. He killed demons to inflict pain on them. Give someone else the pain he constantly had. It was pleasurable for him. IT was a way of punishing himself as well. Killing his own kind. But it gave him respite from his own pain to see the creatures that he hated so because they were so like him in pain. His vengeance to Kharl for making him what he was. He had created him. He had given him this life of pain. He remembered. He was psychotic. Deadly. Killing half the population in Dusis until Lord Lykouleon had come.
But why had he taken Illuser's form? That was the reason Lykouleon had taken pity on the demon, because he looked like his beloved pet. Why had fate lured him to that rotting body? Why had fate made it so that was the only body around he could take a corporeal form with? Well, now he killed all the demons that crossed his path to spite Kharl. Hunting demons was what made the outside Rath stand out and differ from the inside Rath. He wasn't as obsessed as they thought. It just gave him an escape route from his normal life. A way to vent his anger and misery to something else. And though he hated thinking of himself as demon, hated likening himself to the creatures he slaughtered for fun, he knew that he was that limp form, bleeding on the ground. He knew that was what he was, and that thought sometimes sickened him physically, to the point he almost thought he'd throw up. But killing demons was a part of his act. It was what everyone expected of the sweet Rath who loved the Dragon Clan. So what if they thought he was a bit off, a bit screwed up? It didn't matter as long as they never saw the real him. As long as they never saw beneath the mask.
He smiled again. Cesia... would be angry with him. Before, he'd had the sweet liberty of loving her because he didn't expect anything in return. Loved her freely for once. It was what made her so easy to love, not being loved in return. But that changed, much changed. He'd abandoned his love for her when she'd returned it, leaving her heart-broken. He hadn't meant to hurt her, but he couldn't love her anymore once it wasn't love unrequited again. He didn't love her anymore. He'd left her broken. Though he hadn't meant to, he felt no remorse. Was that wrong? Well, not to him. He just didn't love her anymore.
She'd promised to never let him die. During all their time outside the castle, she's always had her guard up, watching and keeping her eyes open for any danger to him. But now, back home, she'd put her guard down, of course. No one would expect him to be in any danger at home. There was no one to kill him. How ironic, he was going to die where they least expected him to. So far from real external danger, but so close to his own internal danger. Life was so full of twisting passages and halls, and he was sick of dead ends.
He gave himself a mental slap for not having thought of this before. He took his sword from the ground, holding it like it was the first time. He eyed it with a light heart, a grin on his face. He inspected it, eyeing the intricate designs on the golden sheath. He felt its heavy weight, its elongated form, and was satisfied. He lifted it to his throat and unsheathed it. He felt the cold metal edge of the blade of the sword on his hot skin. The only thing that would be a shame was Kaistern... he'd miss him, and the red haired youth knew that he would miss him. The only one he trusted besides Rune maybe. The only warmth in his cold life. His only... love. This thought was his only doubt and hesitation. Did he really want to finish it... with Kaistern?
He was sorry, but it was too late. He'd come too far to give up now. Too far to give up and keep on living. He had to go on and die. Another irony. Couldn't turn back, not when he was so close to salvation from his pit of darkness. 'I'm sorry Kaistern, but I have nothing more to give you, I don't have the courage to live anymore.' He closed his eyes. He always knew he was a coward. With a slight tap and twist from his wrist, the sword cut, and torrent of blood formed a lake on the ground. Rath felt the blood drain form him, slowly at first, then faster and faster. He felt the cold stab of pain ad his hands tightened. He felt his strength flowing away along with the crimson paint that covered his hands and clothes and dripped on the stone floor. No longer with the strength to hold up the heavy sword, it clattered on the floor with a heavy clang. He watched his vision blacken and his head thicken. He felt his body weaken and saw his hands tremble. He fell forward, a content smile on his pallid face. His eyes closed, not seeing the albino and hanyou girl who'd come in at the moment, while he bled his misery and found light in the impending darkness. He didn't hear her scream and didn't feel the albino's hands shake him, hold him in dread and hope. He didn't feel the drops of water that splashed on his cold face. He only felt the sweet feeling of salvation and the cutting pain in throat caused by his bittersweet sword.
I'm planning on making a chapter for almost all of the main characters. The next three chapters are pretty short, specially compared to the fifth and sixth chapters and so on.