#memory;

[stomach17-ai-imagery]

Once

A.I. image 2025

[stomach17-ai-imagery]

Once you fade

Digital Art 2025

[blue-orb]

Four months later and Jiji’s gone.

Too many wishes took a toll on her. The last wish had calcified her form and she’d sunk into the water, back into the nook where he found her. He tried singing again, that same song that woke her up, but it didn’t work. He tried singing every song he knew but she didn’t wake up.

   He spends his days on the raft above her resting place now, staring into the water. He goes down there every day and sings, just in case. 

    Shelly sits with him sometimes. Juan’s nearby most of the time, and Grandpa is rarely far. If he cared, he’d wonder when the last time he had a conversation with them was. Even as they eat, all he thinks of is new melodies to try and rouse her. 

    His hand tugs, just a bit. He lifts his head to snap at Shelly, to tell her to leave him alone, but she’s on the other side of him. His string, that strange red thread, is taunt. 

     There’s a new set of tourists on the rafts. A few families, a few solo. The usual same-faced pasty assortment, but this time there’s a gaggle of loud, hoity toity pasties (again, not rare, but...). A mother, a father, and a little girl. They catch his eye more than the others, with their shocking red hair pulled into a ponytail and with a dress that looks more showy than it is actually functional as a thing to wear. 

     They looks up at him, thick glasses reflecting her blue eyes. They lift their own hand, staring at it, and then at him. Their eyes follow the line linking them, as if they can see it too.

      The mother, noticing his stare, ushers them behind her back and into one of the huts. 

[iwasthefourth-archived-blog]

So, I wanted to talk about my experience with Lan, now known to be Cadis Etrama di Raizel.

There were memories and thoughts that I’ve had while I shifted into him. First, I considered my home as a prison. Rightfully so, since I was one of the most powerful beings on the planet, matched only by one person. My jailers wearing gray and I having no ill will toward them is because they were nobles who visited me often. The idea that they were jailers came later in my life as I reflected on their role in my life in Lukedonia. They kept regular tabs on me and seemed to be there to ensure I wouldn’t suspect them or interfere with their plans.

The gray may also be a mutation of my memory of them having gone from the black robes of the Nobles and into the White robes of the Union along with my reluctance in that life to fully condemn them even as I was forced to kill them to protect the future of the world. But this is conjecture and has no current base.

Another thing is I had a very very strong feeling that I had seriously hurt or killed a relative. That incident was what led to me secluding myself further my home. This was something I had initially brushed off, even though it was persistent. I was sure it wasn’t anything that actually happened. It felt so...too easy of an answer for how I came to the decision to seclude myself.

But, as I read further into Noblesse, I discovered that my strong feeling had lined up with canon. Cadis Etrama di Raizel killed his brother. It was out of necessity, sure, but it was still something that affected him greatly.

Sure, I have differences from my canon and that of the webtoon: my hands were usually bound in front of me. I would, on occasion, leave the house to walk around and not because the Lord would summon me. Frankenstein and I first met early in Frankenstein’s childhood when I healed an injury of his during one of my walks. Overall, though, things seem to have gone relatively the same.

But still.

I can’t believe the thing I tried so hard to brush off (and never fully could) turned out to be true.

[iwasthefourth-archived-blog]

I feel as though I should talk about it here, too. I’ve said it aloud and I’ve said it over on twitter, but I had a memory from Lan about my experience in the prison.

Really, the prison was my life. It was my home. I wish I could remember when I decided to enter it, when the power truly became frightening for me. I had chosen isolation with only the guards and staff to the place as company.

I had a room in a tower. If it was the only tower of the place, then it wasn’t that large. The prison itself wasn’t meant to stand out. But I feel it was at least somewhere where I could view treetops from my window. I believe I had a fairly extensive collection of reading materials to keep me occupied.

But, even with my choice to stay in the prison for the good of everyone, there were times I wandered around the forest that surrounded me. It wasn’t necessarily hard to get out and whenever the guards caught up to me, I was more than willing to go back peacefully.

The guards didn’t provide much company as far as I can tell. They rarely interacted with me. It was me and my reading more often than not.

The only highlight was seeing that boy and having the chance to heal him.

[iwasthefourth-archived-blog]

I know he was a prisoner because he feared what he could do. The guards wore gray as the main color of their uniform. He could heal with a touch but there lies the feeling of other abilities hidden, ones that can be extremely destructive.

He healed a young person with short hair of an arm injury. There was wonder in those young eyes. It was during the imprisonment that happened. I don't know why they were there or how we came across each other.

When I shift he is relieved that he cannot harm with whatever abilities he possessed though he misses the healing power. But he still does not wish to be free.

He enjoys being sensual and romantic. Not sexual, though he can engage in those activities.

He likes to speak with less contractions and maybe a tad more formal than I. 

He is very particular about how he drapes his blankets on his lap while sitting. He also prefers sitting on the floor. It's more comfortable.

For now I'm calling him Lan.

[iwasthefourth-archived-blog]

Okay, yeah

maybe actually a kin. I remembered more things about how something worked from my canon and why something was particularly important for what happened to me.

We were only two halves of the century king. The King Stones, when they initially merged with us, merged with our souls and bonded us fully to the Century King and the fight forced upon us.

It wasn’t just to kill each other, either. The fight was to ensure that the two halves would become whole. It was always to make someone have the two king stones merge within their body and have it become one. Killing the other was just the only feasible way to obtain the needed King Stone at that point.

The stones weren’t just symbols of who can participate, they were literally what housed our spirits and gave us the ability to receive and channel the power of the Century King. The fight was never supposed to include more than the two.

And I’m pretty sure I figured that out on my own a bit. Especially after my king stone had been mutated by the sun--which I said it was as if the spirit of the sun did it to further claim me as it’s own; to further drive me from being human like I insisted I still was.

And all of this because I remembered the feel of a sword in my abdomen and the feel of gravel beneath my body. And also talking to my fiancé who was within a pretty deep shift as one his kins.