Weight(part 2)

Anger was only a natural response. Letting it fester and build up was a choice. Michael gave up this choice.

What was the point? Everything he had done or tried to do progressively became futile. It still bugged him; the realization that free will for him appeared to be just an illusion. It felt that way, nothing happened to disprove this conclusion.

He shifted slightly a wave of pain washing over his body and a deep sense of unease compelling him to seek more answers from an enraged Caster.

What did he want to know, did he even desire to know? Maybe he did, but to what end was the question. The prospect that whatever he learnt would be of great aid going forward was compelling, but then the dark side of that same coin was unsettling.

Another thing troubled him.

'Disappointment', that label rang through his mind constantly. It was an all too familiar word accompanied by an even more familiar feeling, one that he deeply wished to rid himself of. It was becoming harder the deeper he allowed his thoughts to turn negative.

It forced the question, why did he feel so?

Was it because he cared about how Caster thought of him? No, it felt unlike him, he barely knew the man.

It had been a trait of him since before he died. Born of his need to have the approval of others, an attempt to feel even a shred of self-worth.

Ah, that was the plague that rotted away his confidence. It was a profound realization that rocked him to his core. He should have known sooner. How could he have, his introspection was always in the direction of beating himself up.

However after tasting death, his mind opened to the truth. He was really only disappointed in himself, Caster being disappointed in him merely exacerbated this feeling. The reason was simple too, he had fallen short of his initial goal. What had it been? To become a better version of himself, a version that was... Initially he had called it 'strong' yet now, it didn't feel right.

What kind of strength had he desired back then in the void of the afterlife? It wasn't physical.

The world around him grew darker and somber.

What kind of strength had he desired back then in the void of the afterlife? Evidently, It wasn't physical.

He thought deeper.

'That's right'

He resented himself for not fulfilling his desires back then, he fell short of realizing his dreams too. Consequently, he blamed himself for not trying enough. The looses of his earlier life had piled up so much that the weight of them robbed him of his will to keep pushing. It got to a point, he only kept going forward out of instinct, because that was what was demanded of him.

It was a hollow way to live and he had grown to resent it. Realization dawned on him; that is what he sort to rid himself of, that is why he desired strength.

The world grew darker.

Would he keep moving forward then, he had found his reason for desiring a second chance. The question was simple, the answer almost implied by his growing resolve. Despite that, it seemed even harder now than ever. He was still conflicted, the nascent thought that this was not even real gnawed at him. He was scared of committing to a life only for it to fade when his brain finally gave and he truly died. Fear of not knowing the truth threatened to snuff his resolve. He snuffed it out though.

The young man was still unconvinced that the Nether was truly reality, his grief of loosing his loved one was still weighing down on him, poorly suppressed behind a mask of resolve. His heart, however, didn't share his worries. It wanted to take this new opportunity, dream or not, and make the most of it.

Maybe he had to ignore the worries of his past, if this was truly a dream and his brain was in it's final moments, then he would die a fulfilled man. If it wasn't, then that was an even better outcome. It was a win either way.

What had Caster called him, a harbinger of death. It was an alluring title to hold. Undeniably so that now, embers of hope burned stronger within him. Worrying had only gotten him no where, he could wish for death all he wanted but his heart wanted something different.

He lifted his gaze once more to meet Caster's.

The world regained it's once lost golden hue as the flame illuminated even his soul with renewed vigor.

It was worth a shot.

He had to take it.

"Is that really how you feel?" he started, questioning the words of his host, his voice calm and filled with resolve. Caster was taken aback by the change in the air around Michael. Wasn't this man a broken mess a few seconds ago, yet now in his eyes burned a contrasting resolve.

"It's warranted, I have felt the same about myself; in all honesty, the feeling still lingers. Every time I am left with my thoughts, it's a constant battle against the turmoil that eats at me. I can't even blame you for trying to kill me, sure I am not pleased at the idea, but I have wished for death a number of times myself. However, faced with the certainty of it happening, I am beginning to rethink the wishes I have harbored. I do not, even in the slightest, care about your dead god or your beliefs. Yet this is a chance for me to do different."

It was irrelevant to tell Caster all that, Michael didn't wish to change the mans view of him, on the contrary, he wanted to not care of the man's opinion going forward. He merely voiced his resolve, to remain grounded to it. Also, the Nether was already a dangerous place anyway, he would need at least some support, right? Caster was among his options.

Caster was beyond dumbfounded. He did not care for Michael's epiphany, he still loathed the young man. He hated that this was the candidate chosen to wield Deaths mantle.

So what he got an enlightenment, he was sure to relapse, he knew; after all he could here the young mans thoughts. Deep in his person, something sinister lurked, threatening to devour the world and all it held, breaking the young man in the process.

He however kept his thoughts to himself. Michael was not the first of his kind. Caster had shepherded the awakening of many emissaries before Michael, that was also source of his deep hatred for the man. Of course this thoughts too he kept to himself. Maybe if Michael proved himself competent enough, he would let him in on all this troubling secrets; only when his success was all but assured. Which he considered very unlikely.

"Oh fuck off!"