
| The Islander
Author: Alex Goodlive Bearing his soul, reeling from the effects of the ultimate betrayal, Lantlas Anduril pens a letter to never be sent... or at least read... trying to come to terms with the endless void of eternity.
Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Tragedy/Fantasy - Words: 1,270 - Published: 04-16-09 - Status: Complete - id: 2660938
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To whom it may concern,
I give up. You win.
It has officially reached the point where you're overtaking my consciousness where once was my escape. At this past event, I was no longer in the ring with Mercer, I was in the ring with you. It's sad really, no matter how much you hurt me, no matter how much I want to grab my sword and slice his throat, I can't do it. I find myself unable to cause you even the slightest bit of harm in retribution for the torture and agony which you have caused me. Now, in the one place where I used to be able to go to escape these demons, to turn loose all that burdened my soul and unleash it upon my competitors, you have now weakened me to the point where they are overcoming me in an embarrassing fashion.
I couldn't finish off Mercer, because it was you. All I saw was you, and no matter what, I am unable to overcome you. Every time I believe I've made the slightest bit of progress, there you are. I see you with him, loving him in the way you swore to reserve for me. The rage comes back. My hands shake, my palms sweat, my heart races… All the images return to the back of my eyelids and I'm no longer able to control the situation. Because of this, I was unable to achieve a chance at a championship on the lowest level when a year ago I was an undefeated world champion. I am officially a failure in love and in life. Thank you.
I can't chase you anymore, my heart doesn't have the strength. It's funny, because this week in my career, I'll again come face to face with you. You won't actually be there, but you'll still be defeating me. You will win every time, do you not understand this? I am not strong enough to overcome you anymore. You have won, celebrate whatever it was you set out to achieve by destroying my soul. I am no longer capable of fighting through it.
I've become an embarrassment. I don't deserve the moniker of warrior. If I can't even distinguish between my competition and the torturing demon that is your mark on my heart, what good am I to this business, or life in general? Every night you lay in bed with him. Under the same moonlit sky, you share the love and sentiment that was once reserved for my ears, and you think that I don't know it. I feel it. The Elves are one with the Earth, and the energy produced finds its way through the air, the trees, and life… it makes its way into my soul and tears open the scars from the pitiful attempt at healing myself I've made, and I'm left a bloody mess like I was when you left in the first place.
At some point, I'm supposed to comprehend timelessness, that this too shall pass in time. When it finally does escape my soul, if that day ever comes, will there even be a wrestling business? Will there even be an Earth? I already find myself no longer relevant to my career, everyone I've ever loved is either dead or disappeared, and my profession has forsaken me. I am nothing but energy that cannot be destroyed, a life that cannot end. When the two of you stare into each other's eyes for the final time, your lips touching with the love so treacherous as you each shed your mortal coil together as those in love only dream, I will not have aged. Walking over your adjoining gravesites, the wounds fresh as they were the day you made them, what will I have learned from this? What good will that path have done me?
What is the point of this, Eldarin? Why did you do this to me? Make me aware of eternity and the effects of it, what is your motive? So I'm even more aware that this is never going to go away? That I'm forever stuck in this paradox of eternal solitude and misery? Those words would say that the world is ending, that the horizons would fall and all that would be left would be memories. But not me, I'd still be wandering the barren landscape… The Earth nothing but a graveyard of souls, but there still I would pace through the clearing smoke and fading sunlight, trudging through the emptiness like I am now, alone and devoid of an answer, of a reason that I'm being put through such hell. You did this, and you don't even care in the slightest. Why can't I hate you? WHY CAN'T I FUCKING HATE YOU?!
My world has already ended. There is nothing more I can provide to my business, my daughter is dead, love has betrayed me for the final time, and my friends have found their own paths to happiness. I am an Islander, cursed to sail the seas of solitude without a shore. Forever shall be seeking the comfort of the land, of life, of love… but the waves will continue out into the horizon into infinity. The sea has no name, no one can locate the ship, banished from existence at the end of the world. Forgotten, long forgotten, sailing into nothingness never to return… Ghost in the fog, farewell.
Meanwhile, never will justice be done for your sins. Never will you have to face accountability for your actions. You get to walk away from your betrayal scot-free and live your life while I suffer the consequences. You'll have children of your own, you'll watch them grow until they have their children, and the human generations expand through the passing down of useless fairy tales encouraging good behavior in exchange for the promise of eternity. Those stories will never tell the truth about eternity, for humans will never face their own mortality. If they only knew what forever truly meant, they might be thankful for their gift of life and that it will mercifully end before they have the chance to suffer infinity.
On the day you die, a crowd of loved ones will gather around, and they'll tell warm stories of you and your love. Tears will be shed in remembrance of your pretend smile and recollections will be made of the façade you made your life out to be. You will have died in love, happy, with everything you've ever wanted, never once having to be called to order for what you've done. From the distance, I will be staring at the stone that marks your final resting place, only wishing I could know the same moment of peace you were fortunate enough to achieve.
But see, in your own way, you will never die either. When you break the soul of an immortal, your legacy will carry on through generations of humans. Centuries will pass and your descendants will all be dead, and still your contributions to the world will remain in one facet… Mine. You will forever be alive within me, affecting everything I do, every step I take, every thought I conjure, and every tear I shed. You've officially discovered the Fountain of Youth, my love. Congratulations, you've found eternity. I hope you're happy.
As Always,
Lantlas Evenstar Musada Durin Diee Anduril
The Elven Warrior
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