A Villainous Genesis (Original)
I haven’t always been this heartless curmudgeon about whom you were warned. No, once, I was young and idealistic, not unlike you. When all this started, I was an education major. I had big dreams of opening my own residential school. I thought I could reform public education and in doing so indirectly fix America. I thought I could save the world. Things don’t always work out the way you expect though.
The first time I ever used the power, I killed someone. It wasn’t intentional. I didn’t even know what I could do, and it sure scared the hell out of me at the time. I was driving to school that morning and some jerk in a Miata cut me off. In situations like that I would often imagine how I could teach that person a lesson if I had some superhuman ability. This particular time, I clenched my fist and willed the other vehicle to be crushed. I had no reason to suspect anything would actually happen. Why would it? However, to my utter amazement, the vehicle collapsed upon itself as though it had been crushed by a very large flat object. I swerved narrowly missing the remains of the demolished car, and pulled over to inspect the scene with everyone else. I was convinced it had to have been a coincidence. Perhaps something fell off a truck and I didn’t notice. It just couldn’t have been me. No matter what I told myself, though, I couldn’t escape the feeling that I was somehow responsible for what had happened. It felt incredible. Suddenly nervous, I quickly returned to my own car and left to avoid suspicion.
Over the next several days, I came to accept that I had an ability to manipulate gravitational forces. The prospect of being so unique excited me. That’s the kind of person I used to be I guess. I used to read comic books and play a lot of video games. I spent those days learning to control my power. I had practically forgotten about the Miata until one day, a police officer came to my door and asked me some questions about the accident. Apparently someone described my vehicle as having been right behind the Miata when it happened, and, as this so unusual accident involved the death of a state representative, the police were doing everything they could to figure out what happened. I’m not certain why, but he asked me to come down to the station with him. In retrospect there were countless reason he could have asked, but at the time, I panicked. With hardly any effort, I created a well of gravity behind the officer, sending him flying into the street. Then I ran. I just got in my car and drove.
Shortly, the police were in pursuit. I knew I needed to make a decision. I didn’t want to hurt people, but it was a choice between hurting them or being taken in, and at this point, I was going to be in a lot of trouble if I gave myself up. Furthermore, who were they to chase me. I could manipulate gravity simply by thinking about it. I could crush them. It was really in their best interests to just leave me alone. I decided it would be best if I made a display of power and gave them the opportunity to just let me go somewhere and figure out what to do with myself. I stopped my car, got out, and, using my power, leaped high into the air and set up opposing gravitational forces to suspend my body. Needless to say, the police were baffled, but they still managed to do their jobs. They asked me to surrender. I thought it was an amusing suggestion; one which I was hardly apt to take. I crushed my own car. Then I proceeded to explain to them that I could just as easily do that to their bodies and that I just wanted to be left alone. One of them tried to talk me down. I had no intention of compliance, but I thought as long as this dialogue continued, no one was getting aggressive. I was foolish. Apparently, in the interim, more firepower had been called in. Someone shot at me. Then all hell broke loose.
Now to my way of thinking at the time, I had done nothing particularly wrong to warrant being shot at. So when bullets started flying in my direction even though I felt like I was being reasonable, I got angry. I still thought I could scare them off, though. I created intense pulses of gravity below me to redirect the bullets and I began to launch cars in the general directions of my assailants. Again, I was naïve. They perceived me as a threat. It hadn’t even occurred to them that they were still alive as the result of a conscious choice I had made. That’s when the jets arrived. That’s when I lost it. I crushed them. The entire city was flattened beneath the force of my will.
Then, I cried. Yes, shortly after this terrible deed, it occurred to me just what I had done. Most of what I knew and loved was gone. I had destroyed it. And while I knew that some of the people I once called friends were still alive as they hadn’t been in the city, I also knew I couldn’t face them having just destroyed everything they knew and loved as well. Given the powers of a god and my very human emotions, I had destroyed my world in less than a week.
So, yes, I am now the cynical, apathetic bastard they told you wouldn’t help. Forgive me if my experience has deadened my sympathies regarding the plight of humanity. Now… tell me what it is you think I can help you with?
In a small farming community situated in an unexceptional valley near the western coast of the northern continent lived two exceptional young men whose destinies would forever change the world in which they lived. At sixteen twin brothers Glenn and Darien were already regarded as two of the finest fighters in Seul. Their father, who had been the finest weaponsmith in the valley and one of the most respected men in the small town, trained them well in the use of most light and heavy blades. Darien was unusually adept at wielding two swords of the same length and was considered a prodigy throughout the valley. His only peer was his brother who, while not as creative and fluid as Darien, had bested him every time much to his chagrin.
When the twins were thirteen a group of goblins raided Seul from the mountain range to the north. The people of the village fought hard to protect their way of life and many were lost; among these was the boys' father. In the wake of this terrible event, the townspeople asked Glenn to train a more formal militia. He was reluctant to accept, not wanting the increased attention to upset his brother. He knew, even if Darien never said, that his twin envied the praise with which people seemed to shower him. Darien was just as, if not more, qualified for the position as he, but for some reason people just seemed to look to Glenn first. He decided to take the position on the condition that his brother run the training program with him.
For the next three years, things went relatively well and everyone in Seul lived in relative peace and harmony. Then one fateful autumn evening, the boys’ lives were changed forever. On their way home from training, Glenn became suddenly distracted. He slowed his horse to a mild trot and began to wander off.
“Hey! Is something wrong, Glenn?” Darien asked, concerned.
“What?” Glenn responded still seeming distracted. “Uh… yeah—I mean no, nothing is wrong. I just need a minute. Go on ahead. I’ll catch up.”
“Alright… if you’re sure,” Darien conceded with uncertainty. “Don’t be too long, you know our mother isn’t well. I hate leaving her home alone as it is, but we do what we must. I’ll see you when you get home.” And he rode off.
Darien returned to the farm and stabled his horse. He headed toward the house, pausing at the front door. Something seemed amiss. Tentatively Darien pushed the door open and what he saw sent him into a rage. An elf with skin as black as night and long, flowing, white hair that fell about his shoulders was standing over his mother’s limp form holding a dagger dripping with blood. The elf looked at Darien with intensely cold eyes and grinned wickedly. A primal yell erupted from the youth as his long swords flew from their sheaths and began cutting and stabbing wildly in the direction of the elf.
With astonishing grace and speed the elf began to dodge and parry. Harmlessly and effortlessly deflecting the boy’s attacks, he let out a cold, cruel laugh. Darien raged on, tears streaming down his face, while the elf just toyed with him. Then, suddenly, his raging ceased. He wasn’t completely certain why he stopped at first, only that he had. He collapsed forward mildly aware of a sudden cold sensation pressing on his insides and another warm feeling which replaced it and began to spread. He struggled to look around trying to keep track of his assailant, but everything around him was blurry and getting dim. He saw a figure in the doorway rush toward him; a voice that seemed far away screamed something he couldn’t make out. Then everything went black.
* * * * *
As his brother rode off, Glenn felt himself slid back into a haze of automatic motion. He knew he was moving, but had no idea where he was going. He felt as though he was being pulled along on a string with no control. As he approached the other edge of town, he suddenly returned to his senses. For a moment he simply sat there confused. He recognized where he was, but had no idea why he had come. Then he turned his horse around and headed home.
Glenn stabled his horse and headed toward the house. As he approached, though, he thought he heard fighting coming from inside. He raced for the door, but when he reached it he found his twin lying in a puddle of blood next to the lifeless form of their mother in an otherwise empty kitchen. Horrified he raced to his brother's side. He was breathing, but barely.
“Darien!” he screamed tears welling in his eyes. Darien didn’t move. “Damn it, Darien, wake up!” He tried shaking him. “You can’t die. You can’t leave me alone like this. What am I supposed to do without you!? You’re my best friend! I need you! Darien!” Glenn sat there rocking his brother for what seemed like an eternity when suddenly a golden light began to radiate from his hands. He watched in awe as his brother’s wound closed and his breathing became stronger. Then Darien opened his eyes and for a moment his gaze met his twin’s. He tried to say something, but fell asleep exhausted instead.
A wave of relief washed over Glenn, and as his muscles relaxed, weariness began to set in. He leaned his back against the counter and sank into unconsciousness.
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