Winterborn

[Blighter]

[font=Palatino Linotype][color=#999999]S[color=#99AA99]ee, I'm not that good a storyteller so I'll end this one as it started. During my years, I've come around, seen things you wouldn't believe. I've fought aplenty, won some battles, lost some others. I've met people in far-away reaches of space, so distant you might have never even heard of them. Friends, enemies, I've made both on this journey of mine.

With time I've come to the conclusion that we, human beings like you and me, we're not really looking - and sometimes especially acting - that different from moths. We live our lives in whichever way, we each try to reach our own personal light, no matter what or who it is. We all have people and places, goals, ideals, things we are drawn to.

And just like the moths, sometimes that light, it burns us. Scorches our wings, makes us fall, makes us scream, makes us beg. Not looking that different at all, if you put aside the "Why?" behind our motivation, isn't it?

Yeah, you could say that we are like moths. But even though on one hand we don't seem that different, on the other hand we are. And that goes just beyond the biological level, us being human beings and moths being insects and so forth. No, what I mean is all the things I've said earlier. We think, question, choose, doubt, all those and more things make us different from moths.

And that's what makes this situation we're in rather funny. You see, you can act like a moth, and not like a human being. You can fly around in space and see something. Maybe it's different, like a Chimaera would be in the middle of House Liberty, or maybe it's just catching your attention for any other imaginable reason. And that's where you can act like the moth. You can see that thing, whatever it is that catches your attention, you can see it as your own source of light in a way, getting drawn to it, closer and closer, without so much as a thought, a question, doubts, anything.

What can happen is that not unlike the moth at all, your wings will burn, and you will burn, if you get too close for comfort. If you act too aggressive, if you go about things in a way that a moth would, just getting closer, not paying attention - maybe even unable to pay attention because you're so focused, so hell-bent on getting closer - that you might not even notice whether the light you're approaching is the one that will bring you warmth and safety, or the one that will bring you your very own demise. But it goes much deeper than that.

You can approach the light like a moth. You can see something out in space, and you can demand things and question things forcibly, things which don't need be demanded nor questioned, even though you might not realize it. You can approach things and people like the moth does a candle in the night. You can try to question people about things that aren't as important to you as they first seem, rather than thinking and coming to that realization yourself. Things which, when you gave them some thought, would be of no importance to you at all most of the time. Yeah, they might be of importance to the person you're questioning, the light you're approaching, but then it is not your choice but theirs to shed light on that particular "Why?", and all you can do is keep getting closer and closer. And then you can burn your wings. But that's not so bad. Unlike a moth, you're a human being, and you can learn.

It's when you do things like that even though you should know, even though deep down you actually do know better. That's when you're not acting like a human being. That's when you act like a moth, one who can't learn. One who didn't learn when given the chance.

That is the worse thing you can do. Be a moth, so to say. Remember when I said that that this situation we are in now was rather funny? Simple reason for that, really. You didn't approach me like a moth approaches a dancing flame. You didn't come with remarks about the shallow and obvious. You didn't act like you were interested only to get to that sliver of light you were after.

You really were interested in my story, and I so told you just that. You didn't want a justification for my actions, my doing or my behavior, either. Even though I'm sure you questioned it at some point, which is fine and well now, because you didn't want to know things that aren't of any importance to you, things that even if I were to tell you, you would forget them the next day.

Could say you did what sets you apart from all the moths around and didn't reach out for the searing light. Right, aren't I?

That's how my story ends for now though. I don't know the real ending yet, but I'll see to that in due time. And by the way, you can call me Fuyu. In my father's tongue it means "Winter". I'm sure you can figure out why, after hearing my tale.

And now? Well, I'll get going my friend. Maybe I'll see you around later, maybe not. Time will tell.