The Fisher and The Fighter

Poison in My Mind

On the brink of war, Achillean questions everything he has done up until this point. Then he starts to question his father. Then he realises something that he never wanted to think about

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I often wonder what you would think of me, dad, if you saw me now... If I can even still call you that after all that I know...

I know what you did. I know all that you did. I know how badly you wanted to hide it from me, although now I wonder if it was out of protection or if it was shame. A part of me hopes that it was the latter – that you never wanted to do all that you did, but you felt you had to; to conform with the clan tasks. I know a little about what that is like, now, would you know? Conforming to what the clans want over what you feel is right; but I want to guess that you never felt that difference.

The way you tore families apart to save your own from a threat that simply didn't exist was something that I thought you far above doing. I wanted to believe that your many patrols around the borders of Nestoria were just that: patrols. You would tell me that the blood on Nestor or the missing arrows from your quiver were due to predatory animals that you encountered on your travels, but there was always a tiny part of me that saw the lie behind your words, the holes in your stories. I just suppressed that tiny part of me so that I was not left to try and convince myself that my father wasn't a murderer. No-one should have to do that...

I should have listened to that tiny part of me.

Perhaps then, me and Ingressus would have understood each other better from the beginning. When he told me the life he suffered before arriving in Nestoria, I refused to believe it. I did not want to believe that life for the Voltaris was that daunting, that terrifying, living in fear every day, every night. You had always taught me that they deserved what they got, but I never imagined in my wildest nightmares that you would have ever subjected them to all that you did. I know your reasoning. I know what happened to mother – even if you tried to hide that, too.

I feel her fear, dad. I can almost feel it as if it were my own – her last moments at the end of a blade held by a Voltaris – and I wonder what her thoughts were, knowing that her end was only brought so soon because of who she loved. Do you think that is not what the Voltaris thought at the end of your arrows on your fully drawn bow? That they were going to die because of who they loved? She died loving you, regardless of what you did. She died loving me, knowing that it was all protection for me, for my future – the future that you had set for me.

Dad, you always wanted me to follow in your footsteps – to be the next Nestoris Master, to wield Songs in the highest honour, to fight for our clan's cause alongside the others – and for a while, I believed that was what I wanted, as well. I wanted to make you proud, but with every 'patrol' you went on, that drifted further and further from me until I felt like I couldn't even be your son. I felt I had failed you.

A part of me still does...

You see, it would turn out that I had followed closer to your steps than even I realised. It is why I wonder what you would think of me if you saw me now. I am no Master, but I wield Songs like I never thought I would. I fight for our clan alongside the others – for the others, if you will... The thing is, I do not do it on my terms. That is where you and I differ, in the end. You wanted to do all that you did. I do not. I have to.

I think that you would smile at the name they have given me. It would seem that all I hate would be what you would love.

That includes myself...

Dad, I hate myself for all that I must do in this war. I hate everything I must become – to suppress so much of myself out of existence, to bury the better parts of me, the judgements I know are right but I must ignore – and I hate that the person who needs me most cannot get through to me because of everything you have helped to create... or should I say 'destroy'? You always told me that life is out to get me – that it will take from me until I have nothing left to give and yet I must continue to fight it, to show it that I will not be beaten. Life has taken everything I have to give, but I am still here. I am fighting for a cause I do not support. I am fighting an enemy that I wished anything to save. I know that you loved me, but how can you after all this?

After everything?

I was a disappointment to you. I could still be, for all I know, but if there is anything that I wish that you could take away from this, it is that you are a disappointment to me, as well. I suppose you could say it runs in the markings. I am not what the clans need me to be. You were not the father I needed you to be...

The father I still need you to be...

A father's love is unconditional, I understand. Perhaps it should not have been. You should not have done those things, dad, whether it was for me or not.

To think that I used to look up to you as my hero. The Ardoni do that to me, now – and I bear the same markings as yourself. Dad... One day these people will see what I do: that the truth will always reveal itself and destroy everything you thought you knew. You were my hero, dad. Now I know too much, and it has tainted my vision. What if these people see that in me next? The only other man in existence with your very markings. What does that make me? How do you think that makes me feel, dad?

What am I supposed to do?

I have lived this long – come this far – without you. So why am I suddenly crawling back to the man who lied to me for years for answers? Why am I going back to my dad?

How is my dad going to help me? My foolish, lying, murdering dad...

Dad...

I know you loved me. I know you did. I know you loved me right until you couldn't. I know you deserved everything you got, but that still doesn't make it easier. It does not make me feel better about what I am doing now – only steps away from walking your exact prints.

This... This poison in my mind, dad... Make it stop...

Make it stop, dad! Make it go away! Tell me everything is going to be okay – that this nightmare will end before it puts an end to me! I am not ready to go, dad... I am not ready...

Tell me what you did that made it so easy to do all those things. Tell me... what I am doing wrong...

Oh, dad...

I wonder what you would think of me, if you saw me now. Would you be proud of who I have become – forged in your image, your mirror reflection? Would you be disappointed that I have not strived to become more? Would you still smile at me, bearing your markings?

What would mother think of me? Would she look at me with the same hopeful glint in her eye as she looked to you? Did she know of your endeavours? Would she see me in that light?

Would she... would she still smile at me, bearing your markings?

Dad – if I can even still call you that, after all I know, now – what should I do?

You have been there for me right up until you could no longer. I am asking, one last time, to guide me as I make these choices – between the clans and myself. Between right and wrong, life and death, Ingressus or me...

What remedy did you use to rid your mind of the poison?

How did you do all that you did?

How did you tear so many families apart and still keep your own?

I am not ready to lose mine, dad. It is fractured and broken, but it can yet be repaired. Just...

Tell me how...

Tell me, dad.

Please...

If I can still call you that, after all I know, now... After the poison has already taken that part of me.

The poison in my mind...