The Eyes

Bored.

So bored.

This is the same road I’ve walked a thousand times. Its stones are the same; gray, their edges smoothened by the years of people walking on them. Dull. The noise my boots make is the same, the speed I walk is the same. Brisk, as if I had somewhere important to go.

Some soldiers pass me by, not many at this hour. They all wear the same expression when they see me, the reverence aimed at me is almost ridiculous. Look away, you fools, I’m in a hurry to fall flat on my empty bed.

The trip to the North did nothing to this sensation. If anything, it only made it worse. How, I don’t know. Perhaps North made me forget about everything. There was no need to think about anything unnecessary. But now that it’s done, what is there? The same, foul stone underneath my boots.

Wait.

I halt my pace.

There’s a posture I can’t quite place.

Curious.

But, as you turn to face me, everything comes back to me. It wakes the senses up, it flares the memories aflame.

It’s you.

You flinch as you see me. No need to hide the fact that you did, I saw it clearly. Your eyes. They’re just as I remember. Your eyes are filled with such resentment and anger. There’s a need to destroy. It almost made me flinch the first time I saw them. What a wonder that you came all the way here.

Your eyes tell me of your need: You need to tear me apart. Is that why you’re here? To kill me?

The tingles deep below my ribs almost make me give you a smile. It almost forces its way to my features.

Could you do it? Yes. I do believe so. You could do it with your bare hands.

But, as I watch you, as you tremble under my gaze, there’s something else. I almost frown at the sight of it. There’s something clouding your gaze, shrouding it in something foreign. It wasn’t there the last time I saw you.

Something happened to you. What could it be?

I take a step towards you, and you react by fleeing.

As you should.

I did kill everyone you hold dear. Something in me almost makes me frown, but it’s nothing a little chuckle wouldn’t smother underneath.

What a delightful turn of events! What an interesting way to disturb the dull routines. I welcome you, you hateful little creature from up North, I welcome you with open arms.

“What’s your name, soldier?”

“Hati.”

Ha! Of course you would call yourself that. It’s written on your face. The hatred taints your proud features, the underlying fear tarnishes your voice.

Banish the fear away, dear Hati. It doesn’t suit you. Look at me like you want to destroy me. Feed on that energy. Let me be a part of your resurrection. Or downfall.

Fear is beneath your worth. You made it this far. I need to see where the road leads you.