Mordret's smile fell as he straightened from the railing and started to pace around the back porch. He glanced at the sliding door before looking at the gate around the house
"Fate wasn't kind for me either,"
The voice was silent before speaking in a more relaxed tone as he decided to change the subject.
"Ah, I remember it like it was yesterday when I took you under my wing when you were just a boy. I also remember you telling me that your brother brought you here when I first met you."
Mordret nodded as he stopped to look at the night sky, his expression crestfallen, the pale moon reflecting in his eyes as a pale smile played at his lips.
"That's right,"
"You've mentioned him many times before, but you've never talked about him. I'd like to know why, if you don't mind?"
Mordret began pacing again.
"Because I don't have the right."
"What makes you say that you don't have the right?"
"He hates me,"
"Hate is a strong word that is used very loosely. You said you two had a fight, right? That's what brought you here; maybe you two can make up and be together again. For some people, family is everything."
Mordret sat down heavily on a chair. He wasn't worried about it being covered in snow because he made the snow disappear the moment he stepped outside. Of course, the children of Mirage wouldn't notice it until days later, as always.
Looking around the table, he couldn't help but notice that there were eight chairs instead of the usual seven.
'Father likely bought a new chair,"
"We can't be, though. It's impossible. I was the only way for us to become together again, and I couldn't do it. I was weak, and I still am. That's why he hates me to begin with."
He couldn't kill his brother, and as a result, it left him with nothing. If he had killed him, then maybe he would have been able to have a family again.
He stared at his friends and family laughing together, unaware that they were reflections of real people.
As much as he loved this place, he couldn't even call this family in Mirage City his own. They may have been real, but they were reflections. Even though the others saw him as one of their own due to one of his attributes, he saw them as kin, too, but they were made from nothing but it wasn't the same.
He was a nobody, so all he deserved was nothing; it was a suitable punishment for his cowardice all those years ago. Did he hate his brother for putting him here? No, he didn't; he couldn't even if he tried, as he was incapable of hating anything anymore, but he could still feel sadness.
He could definitely feel sadness.
'Ah, I wonder how Morgan is doing,'
He often thought about his family, especially his sister. He often thought about what he would say to her if he ever got out of this place. But then he realized that her feelings likely changed drastically due to his brother's lack of remorse and actions. So even if he did get out of the palace of imagination, at best, his sister would likely have no words for him. But at worst, she would kill him the moment she found out he was the key to killing his other half.
He wasn't as naive as people thought. He knew things wouldn't return to the way they were if he left this place. He knew he had no friends, no place to call home, a family that had likely long disowned him due to his other half's actions, and numerous people who wanted him dead. So what was the point in hoping to leave this place when he had nothing to return to? Why not just stay here for the rest of his day until he rots? It wasn't like he had anyone to mourn him or miss him to begin with.
'Why do I want to live so badly if I have nothing to live for?'
That was a question he asked himself every day for over twenty years since being brought here by his brother.
Why did he want to live so badly? For what? So that he returned to reality and into a world where everyone hated him for things he didn't do, despite having never met any of them a day in his life? To return to reality and face his real father, who hated him? To return to reality, where his sister likely wanted to kill him? To return to reality, where his former teacher wanted nothing to do with him? To return to reality, where he had a dead mother whom he barely got to know? And what about Miss Ki Song? Would she think of him as a pitiful existence who shared the face of his remorseless twin?
No, no, he didn't want any of that, not at all. In fact, Mordret found that it would be easier to make the world a better place by kicking the bucket on his own. He was certain that many people would be happy over it and dance on his grave.
But that begged the question, if you gave someone a gun not knowing that they would kill someone with it, but you knew their intentions weren't to protect themselves with it, and you didn't stop them. Then, were you guilty, or was the shooter?
Mordret knew his brother had likely committed unspeakable atrocities over the years due to his lack of remorse and sadness. Mordred didn't think he would be able to stomach it if he ever found out what his brother had done.
So that begged the question, was Mordret just as guilty as his twin for allowing him to run rampant and cause so much pain? Was he just as guilty for possibly letting his brother kill so many people because Mordret couldn't end his own life? Were his brother's sins his as well? After all, Mordret had the power to stop him permanently. Yet he didn't…..Why?
Mordret smiled sadly, already knowing the answer, as he lowered his gaze to the glass table and stared at his reflection, which wore an unsightly expression.
'I'm pathetic, that's why.'
Well, that wasn't really the answer; it was something he had come to realize over the past two decades, and how could he not? He couldn't fight on his own, and he couldn't die on his own. So what purpose did he serve other than keeping his brother alive? Why did he want to keep living?
It most certainly wasn't out of spite, so why?
He wanted to know how it felt to have someone love him, to care for him, to tell him that everything would be fine even when it wasn't.
He was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a voice speaking.
"-dret? Mordret? Are you listening to me?"
"No, I spaced out, my apologies, teacher."
His teacher scoffed at him.
"Well, while you were sitting there in silence, feeling sorry for yourself, I was saying that the impossible has been made possible countless times throughout the eons. If something is impossible, then you must make it your will to make it possible; if there is a will, then there is most certainly a way. If something is a law that is making it impossible, then you must make it your will bend that law, even if that law is the absolute law of the gods. If it does happen to be the will of the gods, then break it. That, by the way, is the final step to how beings become demigods, by an act of defiance, whether it be slaying a powerful being or by defying the laws of the gods."
Mordret shook his head as he processed the information.
"You don't get it, the original Mordret was split into seven different fragments after his first nightmare, my brother absorbed five of the fragments, and couldn't kill me because he would die if he did, you know this. So my flaw is what's making it impossible. Now, how can I break something that came from the spell?"
His teacher paused, as if taken aback.
"What are you talking about, boy? Flaws don't come from the spell; they come from the soul and originate from the law of imperfection. Your aspect comes from your soul. It was always there to begin with. Goodness gracious! What are they teaching you all in the realm of war these days?!"
"What? Flaws come from a law? Well, that makes it even more impossible, how can I break something that is bound to my soul? How can I break something that comes from an absolute law? Has anyone ever become flawless?"
His teacher sighed over the phone.
"No, they haven't because being flawless means you're perfect, and if you're perfect, then you can never improve and never grow. Imperfection is an absolute law because it was created by the gods when they trapped their sibling in the void to close its gates. They felt shame for their actions and thus became flawed. Flaws are a product imperfection and essential to transcendence."
Mordret raised an eyebrow.
"So you know that it can't be done,"
His teacher sighed deeply.
"What did I just say about absolute laws? Tell me."
"I have to make it my will to break it."
"Yes, make it your will to become flawless, break the law of imperfection."
"But I won't be able to get stronger, it's like you said, teacher, something that is perfect can never grow."
The sound of cloth shifting filled the quiet night, as if his teacher were shrugging.
"Make it your will to grow then and go on from there."
"What if I have nothing to live for? No will to live?"
"Then make it your will to find something to die for and live for it. Making up with your brother would be a start, then talking with your father, not as king and former prince but as a father and a son. Also, you do have the will; everyone naturally does. Will is about forcing what you want to happen upon the world. I can only offer you so many suggestions, but it is ultimately up to you to find out what you want. However, because you are not a complete person due to your flaw, it will be much more difficult for you. Especially when your twin has an entirely different will, and that's to kill your father. From what you've told me over the years, I firmly believe that his hatred is so strong that he likely already has a grasp on how will works without realizing it. So, in order to truly grasp the concept of will, you must become whole. You can't impose your will upon the world if you have two different ideas of what you want."
Mordret pondered his teacher's words for a long time. Even if Mordret did make it out of this place, it would be impossible to even get his brother in the same room as Father, let alone get them to talk. Mordret desperately wanted to speak with his father for so many years, to know why he gave him away in the first place. He knew he wanted to become whole, but lacked the strength and courage to do so.
"I will take what you said to heart, teacher. You give good advice."
His teacher laughed heartily over the phone, his laughter filling the silent balcony.
"Of course, I give good advice, but it's not just good, it's the best advice! I am the wisest person in all of Mirage City, after all! Should you really have expected anything less from someone as great, talented, and brilliant as me? Your dazzlingly handsome, jaw-dropping teacher? I mean, I am a very humble man for taking in such an unsightly student like you!"
Mordret ignored the playful jab and furrowed his eyebrows in thought.
"Breaking an absolute law is easier said than done, teacher. I'm not even an ascended yet."
"Oh, it is! I'm just glad it's not me in your situation!"
Mordret paused, silence filled the air, and the weight of it was as heavy as a mountain.
"What?"
"Hmm? Did I say something wrong?"
Mordret looked at the phone blankly.
"What do you mean by you're glad you're not in my situation?"
"Well, what do I look like breaking the law of imperfection? Do you really think I would do such a thing? Gods no! That would be impossibly hard, but it can most certainly be done… probably… Maybe… possibly. But you probably can! I believe in you, my dear student! If there is a will, there's a way! I'm cheering for you!"
The sound of cars honking could be heard in the distant as silence filled the air once again.
"Wait….So you're not even sure?"
"Huh? Oh no, not at all. I was just saying all that to cheer you up! You sounded so sad! Do you know what I do when I'm sad? Go on, ask!"
"I should really get going-"
"Ask!"
Mordret forced a smile.
"What do you do, teacher?"
His teacher chuckled over the phone.
"My, my, since you're so curious, I suppose I can tell you. I look in the mirror, and I ask myself, how can someone as gorgeous as you be sad when you look like this? Anyone would be happy to look like you! AndI immediately forget why I'm sad in the first place! You should try it sometime, but don't actually look in the mirror, or you might cry at the sight of yourself."
Mordret was silent for a long time before speaking.
"Goodnight, teacher,"
"Goodnight!"
Mordret sighed and moved to stand from the chair before he felt a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. Confused, he turned his head to see vermillion eyes staring at him warmly.
"Sister? When did you come out here? It's freezing."
Morgan smiled gently.
"I've been here since you came outside. I didn't scare you, did I?"
Mordret shook his head with a smile.
"No, I didn't get scared, I never get scared."
So she heard everything. How did he not notice her? Why didn't she say anything? Why was she not questioning the conversation he had with his teacher then?
Ever since Morgan had gone missing years ago for whatever reason and returned shortly after, she had been acting differently. She seemed more mature, more wise, even somewhat detached. She acted so differently that for the longest time, Mordret suspected his real sister had come to the Palace of Imagination and taken her reflection's place, but quickly ruled it out when she had no memory of her father being a cold-hearted man and of their mother being dead.
But he still found it strange that Morgan was so mature; in fact, it got to the point where Mordret often forgot that he was the older one of the two and had to remind himself that he was the older sibling. Morgan sometimes acted as if she were a mother caring for her child, considering Mordret her own; in fact, she acted more like a mother to him than his own mother did. He knew that girls matured much faster than boys, but this was different, very different.
So he began to suspect that something else entirely had taken her place and was posing as her. Was that why she was so different now? Because she wasn't his sister at all?
Mordret shook his head inwardly.
He was being paranoid.
But then again, was he? He also noticed the day she came back that she stopped calling him brother or big brother and only Mordret. Was there a reason for that, too? Or was it because she had outgrown calling him that?
'No, that doesn't make sense. Who outgrows calling their sibling brother or sister?'
"What's wrong, Mordret?"
He lied through his teeth and forced a smile.
"Nothing,"
Morgan looked at him and sat down in the chair next to him. Strangely enough, there were now seven chairs again instead of eight. He wondered where the eighth had gone and how it could have disappeared while he was at the table the entire time, or had he just imagined there were eight and conjured it on accident?
"You say that, yet you frown. Why?"
Mordret smiled as he quickly came up with an excuse.
"Because I didn't think to bring a jacket."
"You're lying, tell me what's on your mind, Mordret."
Mordret was about to respond when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a small spider sitting on the door frame on a web bathed in the kitchen light, staring at Morgan with unblinking eyes. Why was it sitting still? How long had it been there? He would have noticed it before, especially in such an obvious spot, and when he was pacing around the back porch.
Mordret stared at it for a moment longer before shivering; whether it was the actual cold or something else entirely was unknown.
"I'll tell you once we're inside and out of the cold, come on."
Mordret now realized why he had kept living all these years: he wanted to find a reason to keep living.
I enjoyed writing this chapter a lot :) there won't be a chapter next week as I'm taking a bit of a break.