His musings were supposed to be for his ears only as he aimlessly wandered the lush plains, or if he chose to respond, his fickle mana who was of little help in situations such as these, so perhaps it best the beast left him to his own thoughts rather than find new ways to make him miserable. His mind was doing a good enough job of its own with that, spirits having long since been broken by the weight of a thousand shattered dreams that were unceremoniously dumped onto his back as if the burden of not being good enough was his alone to bare. Like they were to each heir of the Rozenkrantz name for the past century, his father before him became an alcoholic to cope with the crippling load, his brother [Roxis’ uncle] committed suicide after not gaining entry into the prestigious Al-Revis Academy having failed three times prior to his last attempt before he decided death was a better fate than to live with debilitating shame. Now it was his turn to play Russian Roulette with fate,pulling the trigger by each day he still breathed air on this planet, waiting for when the bullet would finally be put through his head and lay him in a state in which he no longer had to hear about the disappointment he was.
He’d only gained entry into the academy because of all the hard work he was forced to do, all the effort he was forced to put into his studies to be the perfect alchemist and restore honor to his family. The only reason he wasn’t dead by his own hand yet was simply because of his determination to succeed and prove himself in hopes it would satiate the gaping hole that nothing else could fill, however now the void was numb to the hunger, the bragging he’d done in letters home only resulted in questions of why he didn’t do better than that. It snuffed out any hopes he had of impressing his family, for if they always expected better than his best what was even the point of trying? His mother was a cold woman when she returned his letters, having only married in for the status and wealth, she cared very little about her offspring and chose instead to waste the money she had access to. Perhaps another reason his father was a drunk. She’d always tell him of what they expected rather than praise him for what he did right or how well he’d done on a test, it was a miracle she replied to him at all but he figured she just got her jollies from passing along such harsh criticisms.
Needless to say he loathes his entire family.
The only solace he got was being pressured into Flay’s workshop, and all though he started out unhappy there [only there because he was a man of his word if nothing else] the group he was surrounded by began to grow on him, even Vayne whom he was only nice to to keep his pact with the Mana of Light had become someone who he’d grow more fond of. If not for their accepting arms, perhaps he would never have lasted behind the closed doors of Al-Revis…Sure they got off on a bad foot, but after all they went through together to say that they were not more of a family to him than his blood would be a lie he’d dare not speak, for within that ragtag group Roxis was the closest he’d gotten to being cared about than he ever had been in his life. They did not judge him for his faults, nor hold him high on a pedestal then laugh when he’d fall off and not meet their expectations, for all they wanted of him was friendship ,and begrudgingly despite his own worries of being shoved away he gave in.
The stranger beside him had no idea the crosses Roxis bore on his back, nor did he have any idea of theirs, yet the words uttered so freely made him realize what he had and how little he spent cherishing it, at the same time they breathed of a truth he’d never put time into realizing, that only he alone could continue to let the people who kicked him down have such power over him, once Roxis could let go of their sharply worded criticisms he could finally be free. However despite this revelation he knows it will take time, perhaps the first step being he should speak his mind to them should he decide to visit them at some distant point in time.
With the index finger of his left hand he pushes his glasses back atop the bridge of his nose from where they had slid, and with the faintest smile tugging at his lips he turns to the man before him.
“I was going to tell you to kindly mind your own business, but instead I believe I owe you gratitude, for you have unintentionally spoken words I’ve long needed to hear.”
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