(no subject)
... Memories... like so many pyreflies, dancing about in a sphere...
I remember... things...
I remember being held in my father's arms, being rocked gently, and wondering why everyone seemed to think my mother would not be home soon.
I remember the first time I realized that I was different from other children in the orphanage, that I could hear things they couldn't, know things they didn't.
I remember the day I first saw a Ronso... he was so huge, and so scary-looking, and he bore the most crushing news of my life. And yet he held me so gently and radiated such love.
I remember... my first time. With a boy I had known all my life in the orphanage, who had left it with me when we had come of age... it was cold. Snowing, in fact. We had found a shelter and were keeping so close to stay warm... and then it was happening...
Or was my first time with a blonde stranger who had come into my life with fantastic tales, impossible stories, but such an allure about him?
... The memories begin to clash together... mixing like spilled chemicals on a lab table...
The first time I summoned an Aeon. A strange but beautiful creature, full of gentleness and strength, sweeping down from the sky over my village, the people I'd known most of my life gasping in awe.
The boy who had been my first laying dead at my feet, the victim of thugs who wanted to take what little we had, and the near-formless thing of pure hatred and heartbreak I'd brought forth to wreak my vengeance on them for it.
Going on a quest, a quest that would end in my death, but peace for the people. My Guardians at my side.
War. Being brought into service as a summoner, calling forth the energies of dreams and the planet, or even these new spirits, the Aeons. Being assigned a soldier to watch over me... they called him my Guardian.
Truly seeing Sin for the first time. Watching people prepare to throw away their lives at the chance of turning him away from their families.
Truly seeing Sin for the first time. Watching people prepare to throw away their lives at the chance of turning him away from their families.
Seeing the damage that Sin could do, the death and chaos. Feeling myself grow stronger with resolve, strength grow inside of me, knowing that with purity and devotion, Sin could be overcome.
Seeing the damage that Sin could do, the death and chaos. Feeling something break inside, a great well of hopelessness and sadness, knowing that whatever must be done to stop Sin, had to be done.
Learning what it would take to defeat Sin, knowing that the cost was too high.
Learning what it would take to defeat Sin, knowing that no matter the cost, it had to be done. No matter how much my heart would break or the purgatory I would face afterwards, it must be done. Turning the loathing at what I must do into pride... it was a sacrifice for both of us, but we were doing it for only the best of reasons. How could we not be proud?
A hundred other memories after that, rushing in not from two sources, but hundreds... crashing about in my mind... memories of countless pilgrimages, hundreds of heartbreaks... floods of emotion and feeling at the moment of a soul being taken from the body... a mother's love for her son and her remorse at not being there to see him through what would be a difficult life... a father's love for his son and his remorse at not being able to speak honestly what he felt...
Love... and sadness. Devotion and regret. The two always seem to be irrevocably tied, no matter what the memory. In the moments when focus becomes difficult, I feel like bursting into tears and singing with joyous laughter all at once.
I am losing myself in this body. What had become a mere infringement of its memories onto mine is becoming a complete loss of control. I must finish my project soon... or there won't be anything left of me...
Nothing but memories.
I remember... things...
I remember being held in my father's arms, being rocked gently, and wondering why everyone seemed to think my mother would not be home soon.
I remember the first time I realized that I was different from other children in the orphanage, that I could hear things they couldn't, know things they didn't.
I remember the day I first saw a Ronso... he was so huge, and so scary-looking, and he bore the most crushing news of my life. And yet he held me so gently and radiated such love.
I remember... my first time. With a boy I had known all my life in the orphanage, who had left it with me when we had come of age... it was cold. Snowing, in fact. We had found a shelter and were keeping so close to stay warm... and then it was happening...
Or was my first time with a blonde stranger who had come into my life with fantastic tales, impossible stories, but such an allure about him?
... The memories begin to clash together... mixing like spilled chemicals on a lab table...
The first time I summoned an Aeon. A strange but beautiful creature, full of gentleness and strength, sweeping down from the sky over my village, the people I'd known most of my life gasping in awe.
The boy who had been my first laying dead at my feet, the victim of thugs who wanted to take what little we had, and the near-formless thing of pure hatred and heartbreak I'd brought forth to wreak my vengeance on them for it.
Going on a quest, a quest that would end in my death, but peace for the people. My Guardians at my side.
War. Being brought into service as a summoner, calling forth the energies of dreams and the planet, or even these new spirits, the Aeons. Being assigned a soldier to watch over me... they called him my Guardian.
Truly seeing Sin for the first time. Watching people prepare to throw away their lives at the chance of turning him away from their families.
Truly seeing Sin for the first time. Watching people prepare to throw away their lives at the chance of turning him away from their families.
Seeing the damage that Sin could do, the death and chaos. Feeling myself grow stronger with resolve, strength grow inside of me, knowing that with purity and devotion, Sin could be overcome.
Seeing the damage that Sin could do, the death and chaos. Feeling something break inside, a great well of hopelessness and sadness, knowing that whatever must be done to stop Sin, had to be done.
Learning what it would take to defeat Sin, knowing that the cost was too high.
Learning what it would take to defeat Sin, knowing that no matter the cost, it had to be done. No matter how much my heart would break or the purgatory I would face afterwards, it must be done. Turning the loathing at what I must do into pride... it was a sacrifice for both of us, but we were doing it for only the best of reasons. How could we not be proud?
A hundred other memories after that, rushing in not from two sources, but hundreds... crashing about in my mind... memories of countless pilgrimages, hundreds of heartbreaks... floods of emotion and feeling at the moment of a soul being taken from the body... a mother's love for her son and her remorse at not being there to see him through what would be a difficult life... a father's love for his son and his remorse at not being able to speak honestly what he felt...
Love... and sadness. Devotion and regret. The two always seem to be irrevocably tied, no matter what the memory. In the moments when focus becomes difficult, I feel like bursting into tears and singing with joyous laughter all at once.
I am losing myself in this body. What had become a mere infringement of its memories onto mine is becoming a complete loss of control. I must finish my project soon... or there won't be anything left of me...
Nothing but memories.