The sun had long set, leaving the once bustling academy grounds dead quiet. This late at night most, if not all, students had retired for the night. A few lights could be seen through windows on various buildings, most likely professors staying late to finish their work.
Outside the large set of double doors of the dormitory, Amon stood impatiently. He intently watched the empty grounds, seemingly waiting, searching for someone.
“What’s taking so long? It’s been hours… Where are you Soren?”
The absence of his new friend concerned Amon. Several hours had passed since they departed from each other, in that span of time, he had not seen a trace of Soren.
Amon was thinking the worst, that the only person who would willingly associate with him, had been kicked out. Surely his performance wasn’t that bad, sure it was far from ideal, but Amon himself lacked the capability to use runes.
“Though… I’m still a Valentine. Cursed or not, I have more privileges than others.”
Soren lacked those privileges, his past clung to him like a curse. In truth, Amon had been surprised he was allowed to attend in the first place.
Shooting one last glance out before retiring for the night, Amon’s lilac eyes fell on the figure of a young man slowly approaching the building. The figure was cloaked in shadows, making it nearly impossible to make out his appearance, it was only when he stepped into the light of the lamppost that Amon recognized the boy.
Soren was walking towards him, his head hung low. The boy’s shoulders were slumped, his long hair covered his eyes.
Feeling a deep sense of relief, Amon walked a bit closer to Soren, descending the steps. Standing just in front of his friend, Amon eagerly greeted the young man.
“Soren! I was starting to get worried when you…”
As if ignoring the cursed noble's presence, Soren walked past his relieved friend. No words escaped Soren’s lips, no friendly greeting, no explanation of his absence. He simply walked past Amon, slowly entering the dormitory.
“… Soren?”
His confused call fell of deaf ears, his one and only confidant walked past him, as if he did not exist. Standing there motionless, Amon watched as Soren vanished into the building.
…
Walking the quiet halls, Soren quickly entered the shared bathroom. Due to how late it was, no one else was there besides him. Rushing into a stall, he hunched over a porcelain toilet, letting the confines of his stomach pour out.
Mumbled curses and quiet groans were washed away by the putrid sound. After several minutes he wiped his mouth with his sleeve, slowly standing up as he walked over to the sink.
Turning the brass handle, cold water poured out of the faucet. Splashing his face, Soren stared at himself in the mirror as the water poured into the porcelain bowl.
“… Disgusting.”
A moment of silence passed as he shut the water off, leaving the restroom behind. It only took him a few minutes to reach his room, the emptiness of the halls made the place feel as though it had been abandoned.
Stepping into the confines of his room, Soren closed the door firmly, shuffling over to his bed. Briefly shooting his gaze over to the drawer of his desk, Soren grimaced.
‘And here I thought you were bad… What a joke.’
Promptly collapsing into the soft sheets of his bed, Soren buried his face in his pillow. Thoughts of that conversation haunted him, the truth he had learned. After all this time, he finally had some answers… But what he got only brought more questions.
…
Sho Hanami had been assigned as Killian’s guardian during the expedition. During that time Hanami stuck close to Soren’s father, acting as his shadow.
According to Sho, Killian was probably the most brilliant person he had ever met. His battle prowess and understanding of runes made him question why he needed a guardian in the first place.
The expedition had one purpose, to investigate an anomaly outside the veil. A large number of men were dispatched on this mission, Julian Hathaway was one such man.
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‘With a force like that, I’m surprised they failed… Though, I still don’t know what they saw down there.’
During their time on the journey, Killian taught Hanami about runes. Sho already had knowledge of runes, even possessing a legacy art, but Killian helped him sharpen those skills. All seemed to be going smoothly until they reached their destination.
The anomaly resided at the bottom of a cave system, it had been discovered by a previous expedition, but they had been unable to reach it. When Killian and his group reached the entrance, a hoard of forsaken fell upon them.
To ensure the safety of the scholars, Killian led them into the cave for shelter while the crusaders held off the hoard. Hanami considered following, but chose against it, Killian was far stronger than him.
“… What did you see down there? How bad could it have been?”
Sho never got a good look at what was down there, the battle lasted several hours. Once it ended, not even half of the men survived. The scholars had it far worse, though. Only two returned from the cave's depths, Julian and Killian.
The state they returned in was unsettling to say the least. Both men were covered in blood and ash, as if some fire had devoured them. Yet, they bore no injuries, only sick and twisted grins.
When pressed for answers, they simply said that they were the only ones left alive. They refused to elaborate any further on what happened down there. With all the lives lost, the mission was deemed a failure and they set out for the veil.
Hanami believed Killian had lost his mind, the calm, kind scholar he had come to know was gone. All that remained was uncontrolled insanity. Killian was consumed by ideas of immortality, that he could achieve something beyond what humanity could comprehend.
‘Powers beyond mortal comprehension…’
Given what he learned from what he said that night and the make up of that runic array, Soren had pieced together what his intention was.
To graft souls together.
Killian had planned on using his own children to extend his lifespan, by ripping the soul from their body, stitching them to his own. A harrowing plan only someone with a heart as black as night could come up with.
Soren clutched his chest tightly, that sinking feeling finding its place in his stomach once more.
But that ritual failed…
Killian was mutated, becoming a monster, or even transforming into a forsaken. It would be fair to assume the soul simply dissipated from the bodies as it usually does. But then there was the abnormality of Soren’s own soul. Its size pointed to one gruesome conclusion.
He consumed their souls.
The thought nearly made Soren lose what little of his lunch remained in his stomach. By some strange means, the spell stitched the souls to him instead of Killian.
‘Disgusting… Disgusting… Disgusting!’
All those rumors, every nasty word about him… They were all true. He was a devil, one that would live for centuries. He was the product of that harrowing night.
All this time Soren had risked his life, the idea that he would die soon anyways leaving him with no real attachment to life. A boy with no desire to live, would outlive everyone he knew.
“What a joke!”
No matter how long he kept his eyes shut, sleep would not greet him. After several minutes of tossing and turning, he pulled himself out of his bed. Walking over to his desk, he pulled out a small leather bound journal. After a brief moment of consideration, he decided to leave the dorm room.
The grounds were mostly shrouded in darkness, not even the lampposts were lit. Only the pale light of the moon made it possible to see. The moon bore a perfect round shape, too perfect to seem real… None of this felt real.
He wanted nothing more than to believe everything he was told was a lie, some cruel joke… But Hanami had no reason to lie. This was his reality, his endless prison. He had been warned. He knew it would change everything. But it didn’t stop him, in the end he did it to himself.
After a drawn out walk, Soren approached a large tree overhanging a shimmering lake. Pink leaves fell from ashen branches, carried off by the wind. The moonlight reflected off the cool blue water, making it seem as though the stars themselves were trapped under its surface.
‘This will do…’
Finding a place near the water, he sat on a patch of grass, stunning pink leaves scattered across the ground. It was quiet. There were no students to cause a ruckus, no birds serenading you with their songs. Only the quiet rustling of leaves and branches dancing in the wind.
It was peaceful.
Yet, this quiet world of his could not shield him from the harsh reality he was drowning in. The magnificent view before him did not ease his aching heart, nor did it alleviate the twisting knots in his stomach.
“... Why waste all this time on me?”
Once again, Soren had been forced to take on another burden. It was always him… Only him. Every terrible thing fell on him, it was his job to make things right, his job to live for them! Well now he would. He would live countless years… Alone.
“Damnit!!”
His voice broke through the serene silence, it was sharp, full of anger.
Why was it always him? Was he cursed? Why was he forced to suffer through all of this? He had steeled his resolve so many times. Vowing to do what was necessary. But every step he took, something else would come along and break him once again.
How many times could he build himself back up?
What was he losing each time he did?
Staring out over the cold lake, Soren’s tired eyes fixated on the moon’s reflection. A bitter realization crept into his mind, after all he’s endured, one thing was brutally clear.
“... I’m not good enough.”

