It's Not The Arm

'Didn't you say there's someone here who can heal amputees? Gertrude even cut that soldier fucker's tongue since someone can fix it back up later!'

<You're right. But, Aleph, we need your amputated arm for that. The same for that soldier; he needs his tongue if he wants it back. If he lost it, he can't get his tongue back anymore. That's what happened to your arm. We lost it. Healers can fix broken things and stitch parts back together, but they can't grow shit back. And they most certainly can't recreate something from scratch. Remember how Bismarck stomped on your amputated arm when you locked his hand on the ground? Yeah... That pretty much it; the darn thing is all squashed up now. We can't get it back anymore. I'm sorry, Aleph.>

'And you'd rather flirt with me than tell me about this!?'

<I was trying to lighten up the mood!>

'WELL, YOU DIDN'T LIGHTEN UP ANYTHING NOW, DIDN'T YOU? YOU FUCKING MORON!'

<I tried, okay? How would you feel if you're in my position?>

'Haa... Fuck, this sucks.'

<... How are you feeling?>

'I DON'T FUCKING KNOW, DOMINION! I feel nothing! I feel fucking nothing! How the fuck should I describe nothing? I don't know! Do you really have to keep talking? Can't you just shut up for a minute? Can't you do that? Can you please just not talk? The damn thing is gone! And you ask me how I feel? I don't know! I REALLY, REALLY DON'T KNOW!'

<...>

'How would you feel if you're in my position?'

<...>

'Shit...'

<...>

'...'

<...>

'... Haa... I'm sorry for latching out on you like that.'

<It's okay. I mean, yeah, you have no hand anymore. Like, that sucks.>

'Yeah... It's unfair of me to scream at you like that. Sorry. Shit...'

<...>

'This fucked with our vibe. You're doing fine, Dominion. You can keep talking if you want...'

<Is there anything I can do for you?>

'I don't know... Nothing, really. I mean... Haa... Yeah, there's nothing. We can't do anything about it.'

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

Helpless. Useless.

I feel so helpless. I thought I did something bright with my maneuver earlier, but clearly, it just backfired against me hard. I already planned everything well, and my direction is already laid out, but then here I am, giving myself a roadblock. I know what I'm doing, and I know what I must do, but this arm problem makes me question the strength of my plans. Is this worth it?

On the bandages covering my mutilated arm, I saw the faces of the people I lost; they flashed through my mind like poison desecrating my consciousness. My mother, father, wife, and friends… A dark vision swirled out of my elbow, like a tentacle slathering my brain with malignant horrors; they showed me the consequences of my recklessness. People I loved, people who cared--they died because of me, suffered because of me, harassed because of me. And now, the world will forever mock them because of me: me, and my stupidity, helplessness, immaturity, uselessness.

I learned nothing.

How many more limbs must I lose before I wise up, how many more errors? I lost my arm in that fight, but tomorrow I might lose this body. By then, would Dominion still stick with me> I know I wouldn't.

Just looking at my missing arm is enough to set my mind ablaze; it felt like a flamethrower had cindered my insides, burning my psyche to a crisp until the only thing that remained in my head is the darkened memory of my past.

And then I snapped.

Just like that.

A tear rolled on my cheek as my mind began to crumble.

<Aleph...>

I can't even hear Dominion anymore. I just feel so...

"It's okay." Dominion's human avatar had suddenly appeared in front of me. Thin naked body and almost glowingly pale skin with cold chains embracing it, he wrapped his arms around my head and leaned my head on his shoulder. "You can cry on my shoulder if you want."

"Yeah..." I sniffled, water flowing on his soft skin. I gritted my teeth as I felt the unusual nothingness on my left side.

I don't even know why I feel so devastated about this; many soldiers lose their arms, feet, and other body parts, but they went about their lives with stern and resolute faces as if a tragedy hadn't occurred. I remembered my friend Elwys who lost his finger in his first battle when he was 12 years old; it didn't take a decade before he lost his entire arm. Nevertheless, he just scoffed at it with a grin and banged his fist on his chest, saying, "I'm okay! If I lose my other arm, I still have my mouth! I'll bite all of my foes if that's what it takes!" Because of my poor decisions in Firmament, he lost his head first before his other arm. But before he died, he just said the same thing. "I'm okay!" He really is a fool. I loved that fool like he was my brother. And the devastation of his death left me to become a different man.

"I'm okay." Who would say that in their execution? Only a strong man like Elwys can. And though I might have a body much bigger than his, I never quite got the ball to be as strong as him.

Where the fuck did he pull off the strength to say that?

"Duty, Aleph... That's why we move forward." Dominion replied with his back arched and chest puffed out. He sighed as he caressed my bandaged and mutilated arm. "We've sworn to uphold a solemn responsibility that we willingly signed up to; losing an arm is just a part of the many thorns in our lives, but we never stop because it is our duty to move forward."

Dominion's cold and unforgiving honesty didn't make me feel better, but it reminded me of why I'm here, why we're both here.

Duty.

That's what it is, right? The son and heir of a nobleman like Elwys will march through the battlefield to preserve his family's name and protect the realm from foreign invaders.

Because it is his duty.

So he would call upon his friends, his brothers, his brothers' friends, his classmates, and his uncles to ride with him in battle. All of those people would willingly answer his call to protect themselves by flinging their bodies to the nearest murderers they could swing their weapons into, endangering their bodies in return.

Because it is their duty.

Then, they would rally lesser men, young squires, peasants, and merchants to earn more money to feed their families and protect their homes.

Because it is their duty.

But I have no family left to protect, and the only realm that welcomes me is that of a god my friends and I once worked hard to repel. The only thing I have left is a wave of seething anger for the family I couldn't protect and a realm that doesn't wish to have me back. I only have myself. And I even lost a part of that.

I didn't want to lose an arm for a petty purpose like revenge, but it is what it is, and it is all that I have. Vengeance and tears. The fury I held against Firmament had already fumed so high that no amount of amputated arm and discarded bodies could prevent me from seeing through my duty till the bitter end.

Dominion is right. Now I understand Elwys's foolishness.

I have one more arm left, and if I still lose the last one I have, I can still kick up a notch. Once I lost it all, I still have my soul with me. And I would never allow Dominion to ever relieve me of my position as his Praeceptor unless I say I'm done. If I need to lose everything and face countless failures just to see this journey's end, then I'm willing to discard a hundred bodies and lose a thousand battles.

Because it is my duty.

"Thank you, Dominion..." I pulled his waist closer and buried my face on his neck. I breathed his scent in: burnt wood and a sweet aroma of cherries and wine. I didn't know what sort of stupid magic caused it, but Dominion's company had soothed the mess in my head. It wasn't enough to stop the emotions, but it relaxed my muscles, and I could breathe with ease again.

I wanted to wipe the tears off my face with my other arm, but...

Haa...

All this crying is unlike me.

Dominion and I stayed still in utter silence; a sense of awkwardness finally crept upon us along with the realization that this whole drama is utterly uncharacteristic for both of us. We didn't need to see each other eye-to-eye to know that we are both not a fan of sappy bullshit like this. But the fact that our bodies are still locked together is enough confirmation that we don't want this moment to end just yet. He played with my gold locks of hair while I stroked his spine. We don't like this silent, intimate connection, but we don't hate it either.

"I'm sorry again about your arm..." Dominion finally broke the silence.

"No, it's not the arm." I whispered, blowing warm breath on Dominion's now sweaty skin.

There are many ways I could have prevented this from happening. I could have gotten out of that situation without a single loss if I just considered my options well. Times, Gertrude, the soldier, all three of them could have lived without incurring any losses in my part.

It's a failure.

I could have easily snatched my arm away from Bismarck, or I could have thought of a better way of saving that soldier without needing to use myself as a shield.

It's a failure.

"It's not the arm..." I gripped Dominion's waist, making him hiss in pain.

"We can stay longer if you want."

"No," I breathed Dominion's scent one last time and looked up at him, placing my hand on his cheek, gazing straight into his burning crimson eyes. "We're running out of time. What do I have to do?"

Dominion chuckled with a relaxed smile. He snuggled his face on my rough palms like a kitten enjoying his toy. In a snap, Dominion's smile vanished, and his determined face lit up the sleeping passion within me.

"Stand up, my Praeceptor."

And before I knew it, he's gone. Now I look like an idiot, hugging himself in a cold, dark room.