[1] The one who takes blame
Chapter 1: The one who takes blame
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Every story has a King and a Jester.
The one who chases the treasure for others.
The one set on destruction because of others.
If this life was a story, or perhaps a fairytale, then I'd be the villain. The one who reaps chaos, the one who steals the treasure, making the world incomplete with endless, ravaging disasters.
I'd be the one who failed to overcome my past, stripping the happiness from your future. The failure, who tried to give everything up for love. The fool; who had tried to make himself a God.
In this life, I was the Villain. I was the one who always lost, always died, the one who went astray, pleading for you - the dear hero - to save me.
Save me you did, plunging a blade through my chest for the 'greater good'. It was only then you realise the mistake you had made in this not so happy ending fairytale. The imminent truth, that only one can live happily ever after.
Alas, it will always be you who will win - for death is always the price a villain must pay. When his dreams and nightmares are plagued with the intent to destroy the world, bringing vibrant colours into a faded world lost in chaos.
You will realise -
The villain was the hero.
The hero was the villain.
Happiness was prevented.
By the one they all gave the flag to weave in their name.
---
The resounding, tumultuous thud of a book closing innescessantly echoed across the dreary; solitary room. Candles, numbering the few, had their blaze ignited arduously. Setting the room in a comfortable glow, within that sombre space. It was then a presence made itself known.
In the room, where only a glimpse of light and encroaching shadows seem to live, lay a handsome young man with a disheveled appearance.
Subtly, gleaming snow-white hair that glimmered softly reminiscent of a white orchid, along with an impeccable features that were drowned in slight agony.
Usually, this would have been enough to evoke any feelings of sympathy within a woman's heart, but for those who knew the identity of this man there would be little to none.
Achlys Grey.
He was an odd child. That was an undeniable fact.
Whether it was his attitude towards those he didn't acknowledge, or the lack of passion to achieve greatness. His drive of plunging others into misery nor his lack of emotions to others apart from the sporadic smile of cruelty. He was a youth that no one wanted to befriend, and many had the right to think so.
In a careless action in the forthcoming future, the boy would inadvertently destroy the four heroines lives. The pillars of humanity alongside the protagonist, who would later hound him down for the countless mistakes he had commited. A classic third-rate villain who would progress the plot. A stepping stone for the powerful 'Son of Heaven' and the cause for a tragic, tear-sobbing backstories that are aimed at the players to sympathise.
Well, that was supposed to happen if it wasn't for an unescapable change occurring within Achlys, or the one who had become him.
Although that doesn't change the fact that he was character that was sure to die at every route, for he was the root of every problem. A man possesing countless death flags.
The destined ending in which the villain, Achlys Grey, dies and the one where the fool, Achlys Grey, lives diverged. A future that had been extinguished by an unknown variable.
Exactly two days ago, the one named and known by most as Achlys Grey, offspring of the mighty Duke Illogan Grey, had made a tremendous change.
The one, and only, noble heir of the House Grey hadn't left the territory ever since. The merciless and cruel tyrant, antithesis of the character his father represented.
None of them...had ever envisaged such an outcome.
Obviously, there had been a spike of immediate terror when the Young Lord hadn't come out to collect taxes, or berate the commoners.
However, during the past two days a minority, although a majority still remained, began to believe that the youth had experienced something that had prevented him from coming out.
As for what it was? Only the person in question knows...
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I gazed blankly upon the weathered ceiling. My hand frozen in silence atop the obsidian book that had the words [The one who takes blame] written in elegant, cursive strokes.
Drawn in such way, that when a person looks upon it they would immediately be drawn in, thinking, 'whoever created this must be a noble who had practised years of calligraphy!' which was practically normal to assume so.
However, perhaps only I knew that it was false.
For I was the one who brought it to life. Etching the dialogue of my favourite poem, and many more, onto a book. To remind myself to not discard who I am. Who I was.
Yohan Thane.
The man who had no solace. The one who needs to do everything to remember. To not forget. If he were to drown himself within the memories of Achlys, the self which represented Yohan Thane will cease to exist. Therefore everything will return back to square 1, Achlys Grey returning to his former self and Yohan Thane dissolving from existence.
That is why, the man known has Yohan can not let the experiences of Achlys affect him. Thus, deciding to record the things he liked on a book, a place that only he knew.
"What a drag..."
Slapping my face with cold, rigid hands to snap out of philosophical thoughts; I pulled myself forward from the splintering, wooden chair. Picking up and placing the book alongside countless others that were sprawled around the room.
I quickly used my hands to straighten my clothes that were crumpled due to the period spent on the chair. Immediately after, I proceeded to prop myself to the bathroom washing my face while staring at the reflection that gazed coldly back at me.
"Achlys Grey."
A smile of acceptance formed on my visage as I uttered the name with a smooth, baritone voice. A pale hand, finding its way to lift my messy hair as I've shouldered the responsibility of the man who should've.
Even though I had no other choice. Alas, what could he do? Groan, panic and sit at the corner, wallowing in depression because I've found myself in a new world. Or run around in excitement, causing people to think you got possessed before ending up getting killed.
I picked neither. I've welcomed the change instead of doing any other option because I didn't have time to waste. Nor to die. I had to adjust during the past few days, in order for me to survive just a few seconds more in this 'game' turned reality I know very well about.
After all, people have to adapt; overcome. That is what it means to be a human. A being that is unmatched in terms of intelligence.