Chapter 2 – Break off all Vexations
The feeling that guided me to part
of myself is quieter now if quieter is a good word for the feeling. It’s vaguer
and completely silent at points. Many of the specters around me now notice me
and senselessly attack me forcing me to defend myself from manifestations of
myself. With each specter I defeat, the more of myself I remember, and the way
forward is made clearer. It’s a mixed blessing if I’m being honest.
Every memory brings back the pains
of the past that affect my specters that I use to defend myself. My specters
lose their knight appearance and look more like disfigured bodies some of which
bear a resemblance to my dead family. They remind me of my failures and even
speak with a distorted version of their voices mixed with mine.
“I love you,” I hear my first and
second wives say.
“The hero you could’ve become…what
happened?” my mother asks.
“Where’s the good son that I
raised?” my father asks.
“Daddy!” my children say.
Something’s wrong with these
specters. They defend me and then talk without me commanding them to. Am I
doing this on my own or is it something else? Currently, I’m going up the
volcano since that’s where I came down from. I’m beginning to notice that some
of the specters here are different than the others. Some wear black and gold
crowns and have tinges of grey on their body. It seems like these specters
reflect the worst parts of me so I try to ignore them, however, a group of them
gathers around a gate near the top of the volcano.
“There’s no point in penance,” one
of the specters says.
“I am perfect as I am.”
“There’s nothing more to change.”
“I’ll just fail again. I might as
well just do what I’m best at and bear my flaws.”
This doesn’t seem right. I know
that a person who is true to themselves will try to perfect themselves and be the
person that the Absolute originally made them to be. A person true to
themselves shouldn’t accept mediocrity, and I shouldn’t either. My family
wanted me to be more. As if reading my thoughts, the specters stop talking and
look at me with angry looks on their faces before swarming from all directions to
attack me.
My specters form a protective
barrier around me, but I can’t keep this up, especially with the constant noise
in my head tempting me to give up. What can I do? Who can I call for help?
Perhaps the Absolute is the only one who can, so I say a silent prayer. For a
few seconds, I think my prayer falls on deaf ears until I see that the specters
fall one by one until they’re all gone. When I dissipate my barrier of
specters, I see that my savior is an angelic being made of various kinds of
shields, swords, knives, and arrows all of which appear worn down from battle.
Is this my guardian angel, a servile of the Absolute? A feeling within me makes
me think that I know this servile somehow.
“It’s been a while since you last
asked for my help and help from the Absolute. I’m glad that you did,” the
servile says.
My feelings of gratitude soon give
way to feelings of bitterness after remembering all the times that I thought
the Absolute would've helped me and that being devoted to the Absolute means
being His tool. A lot of representations of serviles show them as being
humanlike whereas others show them as an amalgamation of tools, weapons,
plants, or whatever else they may be helping with.
“Yeah...thank you,” I struggle to
say.
“I'll protect you from the
vainglory and help you regain yourself. We should be quick since the vainglory
will not stop until you're theirs again.”
I remember being under their
control and their almost divine appearance. They manifest themselves as grey
and gold beings, with wings, and horn-like crowns. Their tempting whispers
became one in my mind when I sacrificed the people that I considered to be my
enemies for power and they still whisper to me right now. Suddenly, my guardian
servile puts its sword through my head and takes out several of the vainglories
from my body before dissipating them.
“Thank...thank you,” I say.
“You're welcome. As I said, we
should move. More from the surrounding area are already on the attack as you
can see,” my guardian servile says before moving up the volcano.
Following its advice, I follow the
servile all the way up the volcano and into the castle that sits at its peak.
Memories of what happened here force their way into my head and remind me that
the third family I had was damned to the Land of the Forgotten because of me.
The feelings of guilt and regret are enough to stop me in my place until my
guardian servile repels more vainglories from me.
“Hurry inside!” it says.
After doing as it says, I can feel
myself being drawn to the throne room. My body moves by itself as I go there
and find an armored version of myself that only has half a face, half a body,
one leg, and a sword for an arm.
“Here, again? Do you think that
liar with you will change anything?” the specter of myself says.
“I’m not here to argue with you,” I
say while summoning ten specters.
“You must be because surely you can’t
be here to fight me.” The specter of myself summons enough specters to fill the
entire room. “This is the power I have, or rather, you had when I was complete
and conceited. You are nothing more than a specter for me to consume so I can
resume my war for peace in this world of endless wars and conflicts. The entire
world will be my kingdom where the innocent can live without fear for their
lives. Hurry up and be one with me again.”
The specter me sends a seemingly endless
number of specters at me and soon enough, I’m consumed in the flood. Everything
is dark and I can hardly hear anything except the faint voice of my guardian servile.
“Why resist? Why not become a king?”
“I’m not worthy of becoming one nor
am I fit to be one.”
“I am the worthiest person in the
world. No one has the same abilities, experience, and the ability
to deal with as much heartache as I do.”
“There is no one who is as foolish
as I.”
“I don’t need the Absolute. I even
had the vainglory under my control.”
“I had the illusion of control.”
“To be free from the Absolute is the
freedom to define myself, and I am Absalom, the one true King of All! Under my
protection, no more innocent people will suffer. I will finally live in peace
with a loving family. All I need to do is free this world from the Absolute’s
grasp and I can have it all. I was on the verge of making it happen.”
“All I do falls to ruin.”
“What would I rather think? Don’t I
deserve the glory that comes with my power or am I the sum of my failures?”
Considering the options, I decide, “I
will not be a slave to my high opinions of myself, especially when I’ve been
proven wrong. How can I be so prideful when I’ve fallen so far from what I was
even in comparison to what I want myself to be at the height of my power? It
was right for me to fail and be given this punishment. Let the Absolute do
whatever it wants with me.”
The space around me clears as my
specters enter me and the vainglories fly away before disappearing into thin air.
“Well done. Your humility has
banished a majority of the demonic presence of your heart,” my guardian servile
says.
“How come you didn’t help me more?”
I ask.
“I brought your prayers to the
Absolute and prayed for you. I’ve always been at your side and aiding you even
though it may not be obvious.”
It isn’t obvious at all. Still, I’m
glad that it seems to be over, or at least mostly over. The barrier surrounding
the volcano has many holes in it allowing the light outside to shine through
and a lot of the specters from the city are coming back into me. I look at
myself in the reflective surface of the floor to see the tan color in my skin has
been restored along with the color in my eyes. My hair is back and my body is
mostly restored except for a heart-shaped hole in my chest and the other half
of my face. Where could the last part of me be?
“Follow me to find the last piece,”
my guardian servile says as if it read my mind.
Since I have no better option and
feel that I can trust the servile more, I do so. Hopefully, with its help, I’ll finally
be free of this prison and be more of the person my family envisioned me to be.
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