Un Souvenir d'Événements

The Process of Tansformation Consists Almost Entirely of Decay

The metamorphosis of a butterfly is a strange yet beautiful natural phenomena, to change it must first break down and decay. In the same way, the process of any change consists almost entirely of decay.
And that is what I intended to do to the Shah. If it killed me, I would cause his thoughts to decay and crumble, and his mind would eventually change in it's decision.

I had gone to him the morning of my revelation, attempting to speak with him about my concerns, however he dismissed me with ease. But that left me all the more determined to alter his thoughts.

Over the following months leading up to the opening of the new palace, I continued my gradual attempt at eroding his mind. Incessantly I would talk and talk, slowly beginning to break him down, but it seemed that talking simply wasn't enough.

The Shah continued to have me work for him within the torture chamber, controlling the elements that would lead many unfortunates to their deaths.

I had become numb to death by now. True, I had lost two loved ones, and that pain remained hidden in the depths of my soul, but it was now buried deep, and every man or woman who was forced into the chamber met their end at my hands without a second thought.

I completed his contracts, killing insignificant conspirators to the high and mighty of far flung royalties. Never was I seen, nor suspected. To everyone but the Shah and Nadir, I was an eccentric architect, no more, no less.

But I harboured skills that even those closest to me knew nothing of. And I was thankful for it, for it was these skills that I began to use against the Shah.

I would disguise my voice, throwing it into his chambers when he was in that odd existence between waking and slumber, where his mind was most susceptible to my tricks, and where I would remain unsuspected as I hid nearby with my disguised voice.

He woke, still in his drowsy state as I played upon his mind, haunting him with the voices of those who would die because of him. To my utter disgust, the man began to smile and laugh. I stopped and watched him as he woke and sat up, still laughing. How disgusting, I'd thought, this man is vile, at least Fitz had some compassion.

I continued my exploits for months on end, doing everything I could to try to break him down, but nothing seemed to work. I was never caught or accused, but I had the feeling he knew who was behind the campaign to save the town. After all, other than the townspeople, I was the only one in his presence to object to it. I went on, relentless, but it was not enough, for once the year ended, the palace was completed.

I retreated to the gardens the afternoon before it was due to open, unable to look at my work with any amount of pride or satisfaction. I needed to clear my mind of it all, but more than that, I had to make one last attempt to make the Shah see what he was going to do was wrong.

The man truly was a twisted individual. He was in love with death, more so than his own children and his empire, he was hell bent on inflicting pain to individuals, whether they were guilty or not, and now he had utilised me to further his macabre obsession. It was true enough that I had the capabilities of an experienced killer, but to have the mind of one? No. Not then at least.

I didn't object to what my job entailed, but I could not kill for enjoyment. I gained little pleasure from taking another's life, but I gained pleasure from the justice I was able to serve. To remove the evil from the world, just as I had removed Fitz was incredibly gratifying, and I felt that I was redeeming my sinful life somehow by doing that.

That's when it struck me. If he adored death so much, why not give him a taste of his own medicine? How would he like it if he lost a loved one and had to suffer? Ah, but who did he love? He would marry death herself if he could, there was no mortal woman whom he could love with as much passion and vigour.