I don't put much stock into what's good or bad. The world is too gray and complex for that.
But even so, I knew above all else my sister was good. Even as our so-called parents abandoned us in the hellhole of the slums, she never once abandoned me.
Illya placed me above all else, and I wanted to do the same for once. I wanted to become rich enough to buy her a ticket to a nice life.
Even with all of this proclaimed talent, all of his power, what good is it if I can't achieve the one thing in this world I desire?
Well, there was at least one thing I desired at that time.
As he walked through the rowdy streets of the capital, the width of the nearly-layered cobblestone streets of the market that was filled with people was parted for him as he walked. It wasn't because of his status as an Argonaut that the people stayed out of his way.
A boundless, suffocating aura clung to his body, even someone ignorant to magic in totality could recognize the pressure that topped their chest when standing in the presence of the dark-eyed man. He didn't even attempt to hide the bloodlust that plagued him; simply moving forward with a known destination.
It didn't take long for him to reach the front of the destined estate; grabbing onto the large, obsidian handles of the gate and tearing the structure down seamlessly as he moved in without any hesitation.
A carriage sat at the ready in the circular way in front of the manor itself, a pair of large, fast-looking horses waiting in front of the vehicle of scarlet-painted wood and refurbished, golden decorations.
"I'll be back soon, I just have to get out of town for a bi--"
The man who left the security of his front doors stopped mid-sentence as he first felt the approaching, dark presence before looking up to confirm it was his eyes.
"...Avdima…!"
The ginger-bearded man stammered as he dropped his suitcase, trembling before adjusting his rigid form--already coated in sweat.
No words came from the Argonaut, whose sable eyes spiraled with a deep-seated contempt for the man he looked at.
"What're you doing here…? I was just about to head out, I have some urgent business--meetings with some very important people…!"
Karsten's words left his sweat-layered lips with null confidence, not sufficing for the Argonaut as with a flick of a wrist, the carriage was annihilated, being blown away into a storm of shattered timber.
"You did it."
"Huh…?"
It was a miracle that Karsten was able to respond; his knees buckling and trembling at the witness of the man's cold wrath. From the force alone of the simple, minimal movement of Avdima's hand, the resulting winds mangled the horses, sending a wind that carried their blood across the pristine garden belonging to the noble.
"Admit it. You killed her. My sister."
"I...I don't know what you're talking about…! Please!"
"Don't you fucking lie to me, you sleazy bastard!"
Avdima's scream came from such depths that Karsten was brought to his knees; the yell was accompanied by the harrowing force that belonged exclusively to the Argonaut--a darkness that shook the foundation of the estate.
He's a monster...if I just never took that dead-eyed boy under my wing that day…! Karsten thought.
"Whose in there? Your wife? Kids? What if I settled the score? Huh?!"
The threats were nothing less than tangible, pouring from the lips of the Argonaut as his anger ran rampantly through a rainbow of all shades of red.
"They have nothing to do with this…!"
"So you do?!"
It was all the confirmation that Avdima needed; anything that wasn't outright rejection was absolute confirmation--to his ears, Karsten's words were confirmation. With a single step drawn forward, Avdima's wake left the noble-blooded mage falling backward, scooting back as his harrowed expression yearned for mercy.
"...All I did was what was agreed to in our deal! I promise!"
"Deal…?"
Avdima stopped as he surmounted the first step of the light-gray stairs, looking down at the man who prostrated himself before him.
"In exchange for your lessons...she paid me with her body. Please..! I didn't suggest it, I sweat! It was the only way she could afford me…!"
As the pleas left Karsten's lips that submitted so fervently that they kissed the ground below, the columns which supported the structure of the immaculate, umber home of the noble began to crack within the vicinity of Avdima's malevolent aura.
"Admit it."
"B-but I did…!"
"Admit. It."
This time, the black-haired Argonaut with skin as pale and cold as shores of salt, further pressed the man by placing his foot atop Karsten's hand, shattering what sounded like every bone with a simple press of his boot.
"Augh---!"
Karsten cried out in pain as his hand was left mangled and unsettled like a line of overgrown foliage, his fingers twisted and pointing in various directions.
"Okay…okay!"
As the noble, left as a mess of snot and tears, cried out—the unswayed in his wrath Argonaut moved his foot away as he looked down at the sniveling man with those swirling eyes.
"…"
"Spill it."
"…She—that vermin bitch got full of herself! Trying to tell me to stop? I owned her! She was mine! It's the same for you—I gave you everything! Everything!"
Reducing himself to a yelling, snot-oozing mess as he yelled out with a twisted smile, Karsten's maddened words didn't invoke any visible reaction from the young man.
"Thank you."
Those simple, quiet words silenced the noble before a swipe of Avdima's hand parted the man's head from his neck, allowing it to fall to the ground as a fountain of crimson spilled from the beheaded neck.
To the King, I was an invaluable weapon. He didn't care in the least that I killed Karsten.
I was even rewarded; Illya was given a spot in the Meadow of The Brave, a graveyard for those of higher class within Mastorn.
Standing atop that verdant hill, Avdima stook out like a sore thumb in the beautiful spring of the field, dressed in his somber robes.
"Illya…"
Looking at the headstone made for her, a swirling pool of emotions still occupied his heart.
There was nobody else present at the funeral; a fact that he expected, but found himself aching over.
I'll live in this cruel world. Rolling over into a grave would just tarnish what you did for me, Illya. Besides, someone needs to remember you.
That's why I'll keep going; I'll be the one to carry your memory, Illya. The memory of a sister too good for this shitty world. I'll do my best to find happiness somewhere, to find stimulation to this dullness in my heart--with the future you gave me, I'll make the best of it, Illya.
When someday I reunite with you in the afterlife, I'll have cemented my name in history--so that you too can be remembered forevermore. To do that, I'll have to be the undisputed strongest, a force recognized by name, power, and appearance--someone children will aspire to be, a man chefs will name dishes after, a person that bards will sing about. With my own two hands, I'll embed our names into this world.
I'll make sure they sing about the woman who cultivated such a destructive boy; Illya, the kindest girl in all of Mastorn.
Even someone like me can do that; a boy from the slums, a man-child who can't control his own emotions--a murderer. I can be some kind of selfless hero that does it all for his sister. That's all I want, Illya. I want you to be recognized; that goodness of heart I don't possess--I want it to be known that people like you exist.
What a disastrous pair of siblings we are.
All of this...it's why I can't fall here. I can feel it again--pain. A numbing warmth running down my arm, a heat inhabiting my chest that makes breathing a laborious activity...I haven't felt it in so long.
If I start trying, don't break within the first minute, okay, Fai Meng?
You and you alone are the reason why my fists are warm with a building thirst for excitement. Distract me from it all, give me a battle thrilling enough that just for a moment--I can be human.
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