The manly day of 22nd of December,
Who am I before Red?
I was a son of but a humble farmer couple who wanted nothing more but what is best for their simple, but a fulfilling legacy.
A mother and a father who never harmed or sought malice onto another, in fact, quite the opposite, as farmers, opposed to ending life, they made life.
Grew life from the very ground they tended, sprouted sustenance that fed many, in exchange for currencies that in turn used to obtain tools of knowledge.
Knowledge for I to consume, for I to obtain as their wishes are for I to be a being that is honed in the spirit of humbleness, body of a pantheon and with a mind that best the wits of the most enlightened.
Wishful thinking, but I would not dismay the hopes of my own mother and father. I am grateful for their teachings and way of life, grateful for their acts of selflessness, and I am grateful for being blessed with a healthy childhood.
But alas it was not meant for I who has a long journey of life ahead.
As darkness spread the land, ever merciless, corrupting the very lands my parents shed their blood, sweat, hopes, and dreams for a better tomorrow. It was unending, a hungry beasts with a belly void of satisfaction. It claimed and consumed and turned everything in it’s path.
The darkness, ever merciless, shows none for finite hunger, is but a lingering beast with eyes as dark as moonless night, sets its gaze at my loving parents.
I tried…
No matter how hard I tried to avert its gaze.
Please take me instead, do not claim those who do not wish harm on others, no not consume the only people I know who passionately serves others more than their very own.
The darkness did not listen, the beast ignored my plea, I fought it with everything in my power, with my very being to sets it eyes on I instead of my loved ones. Eventually, it did… But the moment I realize those dark eyes turned on me, I was staring at the very eyes of my own mother and father.
Corrupted, warped, seething with hatred that may or may have not been within them as their days of living, my very own parents have been turned into something so grotesque for a shameful minute I wished I was never theirs. The most regrettable minute of my life.
Oh cruel, cruel fate, dealt by savage irony. The very son they honed to be a being of great Servant to the Goddesses, has now been tasked to be their judge and executioner.
My hands… They are always warm. As if the blood never washed away.
The day I discovered I was blessed with a gift was also the day I lost it all.
Who was I before Red?
A weak boy named Raizul, son of two humble farmers, Eckerd and Celena Keiman.
A shameful son who killed his own parents.
My only repentance is to follow the darkness until they forever gaze only at me.
My only retribution is to shut those very eyes… Permanently.
