Slave. Slave? Slave.

I am slave to no one. The dark she-fiends cannot control me. The Nomidians cannot control me. The Amatracian government cannot control me. I answer to no one, not even the Gods. But… I call Kavaki Lord? Is this the mindset of a slave? Am I still mentally entrapped with the chains those women put me in? I called Vaygrade lord as if he has the right to command me. No one has the right to command me, for I am free of all bonds and chains, I am at my most effective when left to do as I please. I cannot call these things Lord any longer. Vaygrade believes himself to have an innate right to rule of the people of Hollow Oak, who gave him that right? Who gave him the right to call himself Lord perhaps the Gods, but the Gods know nothing of being mortal, of being free. The relation between his peasantry and himself is that of a slave and their master, the peasantry believe themselves dependent on the success of the master, because that is what the master has beaten into the slaves, but this is even worse, for the slaves do not even know they are slaves. I must shake off these binds on my mind, I cannot call anyone Lord in my heart any longer. Speak as I will, the words of subservience are not spoken from the soul. I feel a timeless being pushing at the back of my mind, calling me slave. I am no slave. I killed those who tried to Lord themselves over me, and I will kill anyone who tries it again. But this sensation, there are ancient chains wrapped around my very soul, rusted and decayed, no longer anchored to anything, yet their weight remains. It calls me slave. This being calls me its servant. Yet I know I killed all those who lorded over me. I killed this voice, and yet it still speaks. When I try to find it within my own mind it is like a void protects it. I strain and sweat, feeling my veins and arteries pounding against my skull as I try to censor this voice, then when the looming abyss is on all sides overwhelming my inhibitions, the voices of this audacious pretender all I hear, I reel myself back in. I must find the source of this voice, I must find this fool that has declared themself my lord, my master, and kill them. To wield malice against me is to antagonize liberty itself, it is to be on the side of the slaver, to be unworthy of the ground or air or water. This is all to say I dream of a world where the only loyalties one has are to their family and the ones they love.
The dogmatists who align with governments indifferent to their existence, lords who find pleasure in their suffering, and slavers who give them coin, are the blindest fools to walk this world. Legacy believes the words of anyone speaking with honey, my brother is unable to think of the consequences to those around them, the Mithril fists are moral but not righteous, that leaves Austia. Austia is interesting, they have a moral code, and are willing to act on it, but they’re currently in a state of pure self-preservation, making them act in unusual ways, making them a potential threat. They are on my side now, and even under normal circumstances I suspect we would find ourselves on the same side, but if they deem me unable to protect them, will they turncoat? I know Cicero only cares for the cause of anti-slavery as far as my health. Legacy… I don’t know if they care about anything beyond how people treat and perceive them. They may act good, and they may have good intentions, but their constant need for validation from others is the primary framing of their actions. The curse of the righteous is to be surrounded by those unwilling to make the truly difficult decisions for the betterment of others, Legacy would gladly go out in a blaze of glory for the township of Hollow Oak, but would they be so quick to do so if the people of Hollow Oak forgot their name? Their very existence? I doubt it. Austia seems to be the type to do so, maybe not as far as to die, they have a sense of self-preservation and there is no shame in that. I truly don’t know if they’re fighting to survive so fiercely because they fear death, or if they have something that will die with them and mustn’t, and it's truly none of my business, but I still find myself deeply curious. Cicero is a self-interested and unwise person, that much is clear, whether it is something innate to their core personality or a product of their upbringing I cannot say, and perhaps I’ll never know for sure. I need to protect Cicero from himself, and the world from him. It’s strange how I know it's hypocritical of me to care and protect Cicero so much, but I can’t bring myself to overcome that emotional barrier, I just hope I don’t regret it. I am a slave to myself, and perhaps that is the most oppressive master to have.