No Going Back

  To stop dreaming. What did that mean? For Blade, it meant to stop shackling himself to his doubts. He was allowed to follow himself, allowed to be unsure. If he needed help, he could ask, and he could let his doubts flow. But he wouldn’t stop. Keep going forward, no matter what, even if it left him with nothing.

  ?That was why everything within him refused to accept relying on someone to remove the doubt. So what if he did? They would come again, and he would be left in the same spot. He could ask for them to be removed again, yet it would leave him dependent on her to always have them removed. Eventually, he wouldn’t be able to live without the constant removal, and then what? Could he even be called alive?

  ?Without dreams, ideals, or emotions, left with nothing but the constant removal of one’s doubts. He absolutely refused to live such a life, appalled at the idea. To let his curiosity die, to give up everything in the face of doubt.

  ?Blade turned in the air, letting the air whip around him, feeling it as nothing but a breeze. There was no sight of the ground, and even if there was, he didn’t mind. He saw the differences in himself as vestiges that he fell past.

  ?The nameless child, wandering lost, with no ideals, dreams, or knowledge of who he was, or where he fit in this vast world.

  ?Child Blade, named and given an identity. Still a kid, but one who had gone through a lot, yet was still learning with people by his side.

  ?A god killer, the one who founded the foundation to what would become their ideal, all from a smile from someone they couldn’t save.

  ?Humanity’s savior and the one who doomed them, or so they say. Someone strong enough to protect his own world, yet felt no connection to it. Filled with power, yet knew nothing of what to use it for, tossed into a reality far too foreign to his own.

  ?Yet still human, but part Blade. The one to destroy the connection that had always held them, yet plagued with ordeals and terrors beyond him.

  ?Authority of weapons truly incarnated, or so one would think. Yet in the end, still a child forced to see he was blinded by childish innocence. Who chose too early and led to a cost too high. Rebuilt but cracked… So what’s left?

  ?Blade, his ideals, his core, his everything. He would like to say it never mattered, but it did. It had always mattered, he just refused to see it.

  ?As he fell through clouds, they formed. His doubts were made clear.

  ?“Why you?”

  ?“You could have done more.”

  ?“Why didn’t you save us?”

  ?“Is this all?”

  ?“Ideals, dreams, and core. What’s yours?”

  ?“Who are you?”

  ?“What are you…”

  ?“...”

  ?The noise died out. Blade didn’t fight it, didn’t try to drown it. He let it take him, consume him entirely, until he found himself at its core.

  ?Standing in clouds on clouds, the road ahead or where he was, all of it was unclear. In front of him was the sword and ring, Severance and Aira. Yet Blade walked past them. Even as they reappeared in front of him, he continued on, never paying mind to them.

  ?Each time he had been in a position he was unsure of, where he needed help, they had been there. And he had taken their help, again and again, never thinking what it would mean to him. It was help, or so he thought. But thinking about it, it never helped. He simply relied on them, without learning from it.

  ?As more and more rings and swords appeared, Blade began running. It was slow at first, but quickly sped up, as he dashed past everything he had let shackle him.

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  ?And eventually, he reached the center of all his doubts, where not even the influence of others could reach him. This was it.

  ?Taking a slow walk through the fog, until he came to a clearing. He didn’t know how he found it. It had simply felt as if something had been guiding him to wherever this place was.

  ?There in front of him, stood a small child. Yet when he walked closer, he saw that it truly wasn’t a child, but the fog having manifested in the form of a child. Yet the most surprising thing was that the fog took the shape of a boy. And Blade more than anyone, recognized the boy as himself, yet also starkly different. Maybe, was that how he had looked, before the fire that had felt like his own beginning.

  ?Stopping a short distance away from the child, he asked.

  ?“You are me, aren’t you?”

  ?The boy looked at Blade, truly looked at him.

  ?“So that’s how I look in the future. What do you want?”

  ?“I’m only here to talk.”

  ?At Blade’s words, the clearing gave way, revealing the desert that had been the start of this spiral.

  ?“Why do you want to talk? A talk between us holds no benefit for either of us.”

  ?“You are right, you are beneath me.”

  ?If the boy had eyes, they would have widened at the blatant insult thrown his way.

  ?“Do tell how I’m beneath you. You were the useless one. The one who always had to rely on others, who couldn’t pull their own weight.”

  ?Blade looked at the hills beginning to form around them.

  ?“I know that now… and maybe I should have known earlier. It won’t change anything now, will it?”

  ?“You are correct, it won’t change anything. It still doesn’t change the fact you should cease existing, though.”

  ?Despite the blatant words to kill himself, Blade stood tall.

  ?“Because if I ended myself now, there would be no way to continue on. Nobody would pick up my ideals or continue them. And I don’t want someone to do so. They are mine for a reason.”

  ?“The same ideals that have put you in peril and made you question yourself. How many fractures are there now?”

  ?“Ten times the amount of power you have.”

  ?“Ten times zero is still zero. I hold no power over anything but you. Meaning your power is in the negatives.”

  ?“Yet there are two of us. Two negatives become a positive, do they not?”

  ?The boy hadn’t been happy or even remotely satisfied with any of Blade's quips or responses. Finding them dumb or pathetic, yet they angered him on some level.

  ?“You never answered, though. You say it’s because of your ideal, but what is it then? Saving others? Seeing people smile? Protecting those you value?”

  ?“My ideal… is neither protecting, saving, or seeing another smile. Though it was at points, it’s not what I found my life truly burns for.”

  ?“That is stupid. Then what is it? Or is this a way of justifying the fact you don’t know? That you have never known?”

  ?“Guarding others... That’s my ideal. It’s not about controlling them, seeing them smile, or keeping them safe. What I truly want is for them to be able to chase their own ideals… when does one truly die? Is it when they’re killed, or when their dreams stop burning?”

  ?“What you are doing is parting ideals from the truth. You think you can fight your way through this? These aren’t even your own ideals, so why chase them?!”

  ?Yet Blade didn’t care anymore as he began walking, not away but towards the figure.

  ?“You want the truth? I have never cared about people.”

  ?The words stunned even the doubts. Yet he was unsure if it was because of the truth in the words, or the sincerity they were said with. But Blade continued, now past him.

  ?“I’m not doing this to be heroic. I don’t care about others. Even if all my past was against me, if the future I saw in front of me was horrible, I would continue.”

  ?The boy finally found his voice as he turned to look at Blade who was stepping up a hill.

  ?“You’re dooming yourself to damnation.”

  ?“And? Don’t you see the beauty in it?”

  ?His words gave the boy another pause, yet this time not out of anger or confusion. He was simply stunned, only watching Blade as he talked.

  ?Blade reached the top of the hill, and reached into a pile of sand, uncovering a rusted sword.

  ?“Giving form to what’s in our mind. That is our Authority. I am nothing more than the product of the fire that marked our life. The snow reflected our mind, and the lightning that sounded through our soul. My curiosity wants to see what that truly means. That curiosity is what I call beauty.”

  ?With his words, he brought the sword out of the sand. A rusted sword, just like him. Yet with time and care, it could become something truly beautiful. And it did.

  ?The change wasn’t immediate, but it wasn’t slow either. Watching as the sword lit on fire as he brought it out, burning brightly as the sand turned to snow, reflecting the slow fall that fell.

  ?Then the blade changed, as the lightning crackled, forming itself into a sword. Blade’s sword.

  ?“The fire that forged it, the lightning that formed it, and the ice which made it solidify.”

  ?His words weren’t only about the sword, but a reflection of the process that had passed to create the product that was Blade.

  ?“Beauty, huh? I didn’t think you were a philosopher.”

  ?“I’m not… if it was anyone else, I wouldn’t know what to do. But you are me, and I’m you. No matter how much you hate me, we share the principles and desires.”

  ?He says, holding up the sword as it glints in the light from the full moon, casting the ethereal light that truly encapsulates the moment. And in the end, it’s too much, even for doubt, as it begins dissolving into the snow.

  ?“Truly, how sad. Seems you don’t need me anymore.”

  ?“Don’t worry. I will probably have plenty more doubts in the future, I simply won’t let them hold me.”

  ?At his words, doubt huffed before saying.

  ?“I look forward to that.”

  ?Blade couldn’t see a face, but knew a smile was present. And that imaginary smile made Blade feel like he remembered something. Even if the feeling vanished with the doubt, he himself felt finally whole.