The Land of The Dead Hero

That seemingly meaningless toilet break changed everything. Initially, I thought nothing of it, and I dreaded the sort of conversation I would have after it. I always hated these family dramas, even in my previous life. However, I couldn't have expected what happened next. When Elias returned from his search for Anasa and Aer, his face was grim with anger. Yet it wasn't the type of anger that could be compared to a tornado or a storm. No, this was different. He was pushed over the edge. Only later did I know why. A man can only take so much. I don't think I ever saw anyone that angry in the real world. Sure, I worked at a coffee shop for a while and met some pretty angry customers. I also had my dad, that freak, but other than that, I never really saw pure anger. Not a real one. An artistic representation of it somewhere, be it in anime or a movie. But this...

"I want you to leave this family. Leave Arailt here, and go back to Barem. Now."

There was something more behind those words to Canalyse. It wasn't the fact that he was pushing her away. It felt deeper and more personal because of a connection I didn't yet understand at the time. When Canalyse heard those words, she seemed to be in disbelief. Her lips started murmuring something along the lines of: "No no, I have the fragment now...He has the fragment..." but when she saw that sort of an argument wouldn't work on Elias, she quickly started using a different logic, perhaps hoping that could sway him to change his mind: "This isn't the right way...you must know this...didn't your father tell you this..."

He merely shook his head disapprovingly.

"I am aware my family made some sort of a pact with you. But I am breaking it now. I no longer wish for you to stay here. Anywhere near my family, for that matter. You are an evil, twisted woman. Anyone touched by the Witch is corrupted...You should have expected something like this-"

My pent-up anger was turned into screams. The only thing this useless body could do: "HOW DARE YOU?" The sheer injustice of it made my blood boil. They were really going to push her away, not even letting her pack her things. After she took care of their kids for years, she even helped the entire household. Why? Because she tried to take that fragment to heal THEIR son? No. It was inexcusable. It was simply prejudice. Prejudice that didn't make any sort of sense. They didn't mind her magic when it was needed. And for that matter, I needed her. She is the only one who could heal me, so my body works! 

And I...I like her. She is the only person here who treats me kindly. I like her hair when I chew on it. I like her smile, the warmth radiating from her very being. While this...this bully and his wretched, murderous wife take it all on her. 

No, that is simply something I will NOT allow.

"SHE IS THE ONLY GOOD PERSON HERE! NO!"

The way she was holding herself in that moment was almost ethereal, despite running in mud from running in the field. Her eyes were not looking to the ground, but up, to the sky. It wasn't resistance that was in her heart. It was bliss. Could this woman not hate anyone? Could she not feel any jealousy or envy? Maybe she wasn't entirely without sin. No one is. But she was certainly better than anyone else.

"Do not speak about the matters of adults...Who knows if she didn't even do this to you during birth..."

Those words cut deeper than swords. I was...horrified. I couldn't speak, nor could I cry; I could merely stare in disbelief. I was shaken. Was this something Elias believed? Why? Why so intently? I didn't understand anything because no one explained it to me. I was a spectator. Always a spectator. I hate that feeling. I hate it more than anything else. Why does this keep happening? Why am I not the protagonist of my own story?

"If you wish to cut the pact I have with the Zolid family, you must cut the Hero's hair that ties me to you and your blood. Since I am a weak Witch, maybe even the weakest one, it is only one string. So it shouldn't be that difficult for you," her tone was that of a resigned bureaucrat, describing a law that would put him on the execution block and making sure it's correct.

"How do I cut it?" Elias asked with haste, almost as if he tried to get it all over with. "My father never explained this to me. I don't think even he knew. So you can't just go? You will come back?" 

Canalyse slightly noded. "Among the Witches, it was a symbol of love. Where the Hero goes, the Witch is sure to follow. They were tied together in the old times, by their hair, like Gods. The Grand Witch and the Hero. And we all followed their example. I remember the Hero whom I gave my hair to very vividly...And you are right, I see very little of him in you."

Elias shrugged and laughed, grabbing his forehead. "I am just trying to live as a miller...I don't even need a Witch. I can always ask for another one. But you, you just cause me problems. My daughter almost tried to kill herself because of you...So you must go."

What?

Canalyse was stunned. Her eyes were wide open. Was it a lie, or was it the truth? She seemed to be completely puzzled by this. Then she dropped me down, putting me on the cold, harsh, muddy path to the mill. Her soft hands gave me the fragment. A fake. A copy of the real deal that someone else has obtained. Yet from her, it felt as if it was the best gift in the world. As if with it, she was giving me her very soul. Her very being. I didn't want her to leave. Or be "cut away". 

It was wrong. I understood it as much. Canalyse was a Witch, weak, but immortal. Just how much knowledge about this world could she really give me? Just how much potential was hiding in her? And how much of it could I use? I wanted to be strong. I wanted to be free of this world. I tried to find my place in it. I had to start early. I had to do...Something! However, I was blocked by this ridiculous individual, whose sole decision was to block me from my path.

I only wish for Canalyse to take me away with her. I couldn't care less about these people.

"If that is really true, then I apologize...And I understand your decision. Please try to nurture Arailt with this fragment. He must receive it. If you wish to sever the hair string, you need to use a suitable cutting instrument. Followed by the simple phrase of: "I release you, Canalyse."

Her back straightened up, and she gently patted me on my hair:

"Don't be sad, young Arailt. You won't even remember knowing me. In ten years, when they tell you my name, it will seem familiar. In twenty, it will be just vowels."

She truly was the weakest Witch. For she had no idea, I wasn't a baby at all, and I remember every conversation I had with her. It felt as if she was going to die - that's how strong our pull was. It made me think about how long she had been alive. Was she from the time of the ancient heroes? Just how long did she serve this family? And did she really do it so selflessly and faithfully? Will she be really pushed away just because of being...unliked?

"Will a pocket knife do?" Elias asked, seemingly more worried that his wife and daughter were just returning from the woods. They looked awful and didn't even look at us. Anasa just carried Aer to the mill without as much as a whisper.

Canalyse laughed. It was a throaty laugh.

"I suppose even a pocket knife is a sword in a Hero's hand. If you see a hairstring, then cut it, and let me be free of servitude."

Yet no hairstring appeared.

"I don't see anything," Elias said, disappointed. Waving his pocket knife in his hand.

"Well, of course. You merely share the Hero's blood, not his nature. But young Arailt does. For he is pure."

She was right. I saw the string. Maybe it was there the whole time. It was thin. It stretched from her to me, and then to him, and everything around us. This very mill. This very soil. And even the sky above us, perhaps the souls of dozens she has served. It was blue...that caught my eye immediately. The Hero's hair was blue, while mine was black. 

"Alright then," Elias said, grabbing my lifeless hand and putting the knife in it.

No. You can't be serious.

"Where is it?" he asked me, as if trying to make sure. "There?" He was close.

I couldn't move this fucking body. It wouldn't listen to me at all. Elias was just using it. Using my powerlessness to cut the hairstring. This guy...This guy... 

I hated him from the bottom of my heart.

"I won't tell you," I whispered, as the blade approached the hairstring, and Canalyse lifted her eyes.

"It is there, Elias. Just move his hand down, and it will be done."

I didn't understand. I didn't.

Why? Why was she okay with it? Was it the nature of the pact? To be obedient? To serve? I saw him hit her more than once in two years. And not just him. Everyone else. Yet she served them diligently like a masochist. 

"Finally, my family will be rid of this disgusting curse, and maybe our luck will turn around."

I wanted to scream. To bite. I tried to bite my father's hand as he forcefully made me cut the hairstring. But it was too late.

"I release you, Canalyse."

The knife went through and severed Canalyse's bond with us. There, on that road to the mill. Like she was nothing. Like nothing she did ever mattered. Not even Elias probably knew she was simply going to disappear. Fading into nothing, mere charcoals spread by the wind. She didn't cry, yet she gazed at me until her very last moments. I screamed, and tears were running down my face. My father just made me kill the only person in this world I care about. He was holding my hand. Now I understand fully why the fragment didn't choose me. This was not what a Hero would do. Hero would find something. A way to fix everything. To save the day. 

But no. There was only loss and injustice. And its weight was crushing.

What happened to Canalyse changed me.

You will soon see how.

No more of this. No more.

I was not reincarnated in this world to suffer.

And no one else born in it will.