Soul Trauma
The village was unlike anything Sieg had ever seen before. It was only about as wide as maybe two roads side-by-side, even including the buildings. Yet, it stretched outwards toward the horizon as far as his eyes could see. It smelled putrid of decaying bodies and had an otherworldly aura to it. Sieg hated this place for a reason he could not think of. Just an unexplainable surge of emotion; undefined by its familiarity.
Sieg walked for almost an hour and had come to a clearing in the village where a market once stood. He could sense that this had once been the liveliest part of the entire village. He could see the merchants in the corners of buildings selling their crops. He could see children playing with each other. He could see the smoke coming out of chimney stacks in the nearby homes. And he could see a boy all by himself in the middle of the square, crest in hand. The boy was crying, yet no one seemed to stop or care. The tears hit the floor forming a circle around the small boy's body and the ground began to glow crimson. Now everything was still. Uncomfortably still; uncomfortably scary and uncomfortably familiar.
Sieg did not have to think hard about what was going to happen next. He could have guessed by the horrified faces of the village people, but he didn't have to. He had seen the sight way too many times to not be able to recognize it again. He experienced it every night he closed his eyes. The feelings all came back to him as he watched the boy in the square. The thoughts and emotions of sacrificing his people to eternal imprisonment in the search of power. The tears did not correspond with his actions. Though Sieg felt sad, he still raised his tiny hands and enveloped the crest. The ignorant masses around him all perished under the unrivaled force of Thanatos.
Sieg was brought down to his knees by the unbearable pain in his head, and when he turned he could see himself staring back at him from the entrance of the city calling out to him.
"You just can't get enough of the killing can you? You have to destroy everything twice? I destroy it every night. Why? You had a normal life and you threw it all away! My life would never have been normal. Father gave you that crest so that you could destroy it when the time came. He didn't want you ending up like him! And you gave into the darkness just like he did; and you too will perish."
He had argued with himself in the square. The pain in his head did not go away, though the apparition of himself did. He could not explain what was happening and didn't want to. He had remembered his father for the first time in years and did not wish to continue with this mission anymore. Though he did not want to believe it, he could not deny the fact that this was the village he was born in. And he no longer wished to know what happened here.
Sieg left the village confused and scared. He had all the power in the world but what was to supposed to save him from the enemies of his mind; his memories. He began to leave. He would return to headquarters and just be honest with them; that the village he had been sent to investigate was his birthplace, and that the sight of it destroyed was too much to bear. He knew he would be lying to himself, but as long as he believed his lie, he would be able to get through the night.
He slept on the road home. His eyes opened to the sight of Thanatos; the village in flames all around him. This time he did not see a small boy; he saw his reflection. He began to argue with himself again. He was looking at himself and was unsure if he spoke if his voice would come from him or the replica he saw before him.
The voice came from above, as if the walls of his head were speaking to him. "Try and remember. It is painful, yes, but you can fight through it. You possess the will, but not the fortitude. Soon you will need to come to terms with your past and face your punishment. The punishment bestowed to every Legionairre. The same punishment bestowed to your father. Don't mention him! He was a raving lunatic who did nothing for me ever and who gave you your great crest to power. It is you who destroyed your village and there is no one you can force the blame on."
Sieg awoke to the fact that he had been the cause of all this murder and destruction. Somehow he had re-experienced this event in his mind when he had entered this village. Sieg continued to walk, onward and onward. Days, weeks, years seem to have passed and the flow of time was lost as Sieg walked towards his unknown destination. He did not know how long he had walked when he approached the entrance to his village for the second time.
Sieg stepped foot into his old home, deep in the market square of Diaspallio. He collapsed in his living room from both the physical and mental strains placed upon him. He saw his father. His father was watching him. Examining. And he was there too; just a small little boy listening to the crazy ramblings of his father. The boy was hardly paying attention, as he was just staring at the sparkling crest in the sunlight. But Sieg was listening attentively as if his father was speaking to him from his memories.
"Sieg listen to me. I do not want you to become like me. I have given you this crest in the hopes that you can end my misery. I do not mea to place this burden upon you, however I can no longer chain this chaos dwelling within me. Heed my words Sieg, 'Tis' the darkest glyph thou barest; it sacrifices stray souls to summon unearthly force. Unearthly force shall obey and serve thee, tis' named Chaos Legion.' These Legions will be the end of anyone who tries to manipulate them. They are angry... for they have been imprisoned. They are hungry for the stray souls that I refuse to feed them. Please Sieg do not give in to their power."
It became obvious that the man was speaking to him as a child, a child who would not listen; who believed his father was a senile, old lunatic. This warning would have been useful information in the past. Now, it stood as a horrible omen of things to come. The Legions were hungry. It was as if they were feasting on the memories of their master. Relentless and unforgiving of the man who lets them out of their unholy prison every once in awhile for his own greedy desires. Sieg had given in to the power of his Legion of souls, and whether he liked it or not, he would have to stay with them until the end.
Sieg broke his concentration from his father and looked at the floor of his home. Then, up at the crimson sky; the roof was nowhere to be seen. Then, back down at the floor; crimson, as if to match the sky. Blood was everywhere on him; the blood of others and the blood of himself. The glistening sunlight reflected his face in the large puddles of blood to reveal the shadow of a grotesque figure who was looking back at Sieg from beyond; was this what he had become? He went to wipe his eyes, as did the mysterious figure, and his hands turned a demonic shade of red. The figure and Sieg were one and the same, and he was no longer inside his house.
Sieg looked around as if to try to pinpoint his exact location. He could see the familiar buildings of Diaspallio looking back at him, arching over him at this new, unfamiliar perspective. He turned around to face a road he had not yet traveled. Looked behind him to see the rotting corpses of men, women, and children recently killed, and all at once, he realized that he was the executioner of these people. He closed his eyes and embraced the darkness that greeted him from under his heavy eyelids, and he fell asleep on the road; the exit of his village, the long, scarlet trail of blood in his wake.
