Blackwater Islands You’ve got your powdered lies

So that is what you choose to believe? Tell me, then: if, the other day, you would have died — what would the entirety of your life have meant? Nothing? Wrong.

Alduin squints his eyes at him slightly. What’s he getting at? Is he trying to teach Alduin the meaning of life? Or maybe the value of it? Alduin doesn’t want that. He wants to learn how to take a life — how to steal it. Still, the question begs an answer in his own mind. What if he would’ve died the other day? Well. Would Alduin really care? He’d have been dead. He would’ve been stuck in Banesteppe’s unyielding grasp no matter what happens to his forsaken soul. So, in conclusion, Alduin still does not care if he dies — despite how grim it sounds. Though he does not actively seek death, he actually believes he cannot die. For the only way for him to do so is if Banesteppe permits it. 

Yet, here Alduin is trying his hardest to be polite and respectful and not interrupt. So he remains silent.

Only then he speaks of his Shadow and that’s when Alduin listens to every single word. He speaks of Alduin being her puppet and she the master. He can’t completely disagree. Nor does he disagree with the following words either…

You have been growing to know war, blood, chaos; and nothing but. That is the definition of your life. That is what your life has meant.

This is true. He has been taught nothing else besides it. Especially by his father. This is all he knows. This is what he was born for — war and chaos. To be the reaper in living form. And now with Banesteppe’s presence it (along with his mental state) has only gotten worse.

He carries on after a brief pause and that’s when shit really gets deep. His words are meaningful, but Alduin cannot relate to them. They are powerful, but the hellhound does not reap their benefits. For he has been taught that life means nothing when taking it from another since he could walk. 

To him, another’s life truly means nothing. 

For only those lives he cares about mean something to him. Even then, the meaning of life there and the purpose of it is lost to him.

During all of this his face would stay remotely neutral, besides the occasional squint of his eyes or furrowing of his brows in an attempt to see from his point of view. He would even take a moment to contemplate said words, really taking them all in and thinking about it. He doesn’t shift his eyes from the other man’s own the entirety of the time either, noticing how his pupils blow wide at the end of his speech. He meets his calculating stare and hums low in his throat, a sound of contemplative acknowledgment.

“War, blood, and chaos is the definition of my life. You are right.” He states. “I hope it remains that way. Peace is too quiet for my wandering, sick mind.” His Smokey voice is low. He knows what he is and he knows what’s wrong with him, but this man doesn’t know half of the fucked up shit about him — especially the entity that hangs on his shoulder with a chain lead around his neck. 

“It is not the listener I am a slave to. It is something else entirely. Something — someone — much worse.” His voice would adopt a grim tone to it — a dark one.

“As for my outlook on another’s life you are wrong. I do not tell myself anything to make it easier to steal another’s life. I don’t have to. I feel nothing. I have no sympathy for them. Because of this I have no fear of taking their life. I am meant for this. Born for this. A slave to this. And I remain so until I die.” He is deathly serious as he says this. If this man wants to know more about him, then so be it. 

For all he has told him is true. He does not feel anymore. He doesn’t care what happens to those he kills or maims. He doesn’t care if their loved ones weep at the loss. He doesn’t have empathy for them. He is a selfish beast. He likes to watch the flame snuff out behind their eyes. He is a monster and he’s convinced nothing in this world could convince him otherwise. So he might as well hone his skills to become unkillable. To become a worthy opponent and deal death to those that toy with it.