Magnus Academy: The Cursed Blood

Special: Chapter Fifty-Five Part I

A Requiem To You From the Laments of Now

At first view, she was fragile, delicate, and small as though a speck of weight could crush her weak bones and muscles. Eyes much paler than mine, reflecting the moonlit glow of the dark midnight skies above. Reverberating cries escaping from her small lips, gently fading along the deepness of the woods as I traced the smooth lines upon her cheek. She was beautiful, a being that exceeded my own far more than I could had ever imagined.

Her gaze smeared in ethereal tears held so much innocence untainted by this world's cruelty as she continued to muffle sobs of noise, her surroundings overwhelming her senses. She could not see despite how round her eyes were, and I wonder then why her soft hands clung around my finger so much as though she could.

My sword laid struck on the ground beside, my back leaning against the subtle wall of the enclosed cave as I stared at this being wrapped through a white cloth around my arms. That familiar warmth bubbled up inside me, spreading through my chest and for the first time, I felt my heart race so fast going with the rushing flow of my blood. It was not that of an excitement that comes of a battle nor a war, but with that sense of joy and satisfaction that probed my soul deeper than anyone could ever.

I had bore her alone and I had intended to finish her life at first sight yet there I was, feeling unnecessary emotions that continued to linger still and before I had even realized, I was smiling. How could I even kill such a small and weak being? How could I even kill my own... daughter? It was as though something was being formed, a work of force that cannot be seen and can only be felt, building that certain connection between our gazes, surging from an unknown depth of my soul--carving out the humanity that had long stayed silent inside me.

I knew then what love truly felt like. A love that exceeded romance, friendship, and family. A love that could defy my own fate when I could not. A love that made me want to change the world for her to live.

But I am a tragedy. I am but a mere being awaiting for her death, wandering around wherever my feet would get me, erasing the sights of those who wish to stand against my path. I am lost, where life nor time could help me find my way for I am tired of doing so...only death would do me a favour of eternal peace and silence. Even looking at this child now, I still could not help but wish for my ending. Am I selfish for eluding myself of a greater life far more than this rogue adventuring of mine? Am I selfish for thinking of abandoning this child and deprive her of a normal family?

Family. The word could have had left a bitter aftertaste in my mouth had I said so out loud. I was never given one, nor the ones before my birth, the ones before theirs, and the ones that I never had a trace of. Cursed Bloods were a sad race, and so much more was the Main Family. Driven by both fate and responsibility, they had ignored warmth and refuge found among the supposed bonds in a family. They did not need it, they only cared for power and achieving so is a game where the weak would bow down and the strong would rise on top.

It was called a Cursed Blood for despite having massive potentials, those with such blood flowing through their veins were cursed with a fate inescapable. A fate of loneliness despite being surrounded by many, a fate of having to receive no empathy despite being understanding what it felt like themselves, a fate of having a dark destiny intended for another and never themselves. A fate so tragic that I had ended all their lives and the ones next to them to prevent them from extracting revenge from this world that could cause chaos and destruction much of I could.

The fate of this child wrapped under the warmth of my touch, is no different from theirs. Yet I did not want to kill her. I had tried; grabbing the hilt of my sword as my trembling hand threatened to point it shakily upon her delicate throat amassing oxygen just to breathe, eyes closed, her mind slowly drifting her off to somewhere peaceful. Before I was even aware of it, the sword had already disappeared, replaced by a wave of guilt that crushed me more so than the thousands of lives that had perished under my wrath. I could not make myself do it.