Scarlet; the Face of Solitude
Every night, I have this recurring image of Selena, coming to haunt my mind. I see her lovely elven traits, smiling, like in the good days of Vahnatia. Then I can here my voice, trusting like it happens so rarely, echoing all around us both. I’m a tiefling, but please don’t fear me. I had always been generous and kind to her, even helpful. I was sure, in all of the beings I knew, she would be the one to be able to understand and accept my true self. Alas, I was so wrong once again. In those dreams, I see her facial expression warping from pain to terror, as she stares at me with her emerald eyes of hers. She would repeat over and over: It’s impossible! Not you! No! Painful. That is exactly the inner thoughts I never tell anyone around me about. They would see it as a sign of weakness. I have learned from Selena that ignorance can truly overpower anything else. Should it even be true friendship. A single word erasing years of actions…
Then, I surround myself with so many. The fools will think I collect souls for the pleasure of it, maybe for power. Only the closest… no, I don’t even have a close one. The truth is that; I try to end this deep feeling of solitude. Everyone sees a drawing of myself. An image that I create to please my surroundings. For some, I might show a smiling Scarlet, to others a more serious one. Even inside my own family, I feel as if I was physically there, but completely unable to connect with anyone. They are together, together around me. I picture myself as standing alone in the middle of a circle of people holding hands. I am jealous. Despite my best efforts, despite obsession and deals, I still cannot fill that space beside me. At least, my Family will never turn back on me. They will remain by my side, even though it is more of a ghostly presence. A ghost is still best than silence.
– Do you love me?
…
– You will protect me forever, don’t you?
…
Who am I fooling? There is nobody in this room. There is only myself and piles of gold, gems and chests. The images of me would never ask such silly questions, as I already know the answer; Yes Mistress, I love you. What is it worth outside of filling this heavy silence? Nothing much, nothing much, really. Still better than silence…
What could one possibly do when everybody else prefers lies over truth?
