This story is about a boy named Dylan Silva as he was born with the ability to conjure and create water. Know to him as his semblance,but is that really a semblance or is there more going on behind his ability. Let's follow him through his story whe...
It's been several days since I first encountered the voice in my head, identifying himself as Ozpin. Despite my wishes to simply live out my life as a farm boy and nothing more, his persistent presence refuses to leave me in peace. No matter how hard I try to ignore him, he's always there, nudging at the edges of my consciousness. This led to a revelation: perhaps if I filled my mind with my own thoughts or immersed myself in reading, I could drown out his voice. With this strategy in mind, I found myself settling down with another book this evening, hoping to find solace in the written word.
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..: "Oscar, supper is almost ready!"
My aunt's voice rang out, summoning me to get ready for dinner. Despite her call, a flicker of curiosity sparked within me I found myself wondering exactly what would be awaiting me on my plate.
Oscar: "What are we having?"
Oscar's aunt: "Doesn't matter you're eating it."
Oscar: "I never agreed to these terms."
Oscar's aunt: "It's part of living under my roof contract, read the fine prints and come wash up."
Resolved to satisfy my curiosity, I rose from the bed, closing my book with a contented, small smile. However, I had the feeling this moment of tranquility wouldn't last for long.
Ozpin: (We have to leave.)
Once again, Ozpin's voice implored me to leave, a request I've heard countless times before. I've lost track of how many times he's asked what part of my consistent 'no' does he fail to understand?
Ozpin: (Oscar.)
With a firm grip on the doorknob, I resolved that ignoring him remained my best course of action.
Ozpin: (Oscar!)
Recently, Ozpin has become increasingly insistent, pushing his demands with more urgency than ever before. Why can't he understand that I don't want to be dictated by his choices? I'm growing tired of resisting his relentless pressure.
Oscar: "I have decided you're not real, so you might aswel give up."
Ozpin: (I understand how you're feeling, I went through the same panic and confusion.)
As I noticed the books I had neglected to return to their original spots, I found myself muttering quietly, trying to convince myself that Ozpin's voice was just a figment of my imagination, not rooted in reality.
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