The Admonishments of Kherishdar
M.C.A. Hogarth

SOCIOPATHY

fol [ fohl ], (adjective) — imperfect

      The Ai-Naidar are insufferably smug. You know, aunera. You've sat through their self-righteous sermonizing on the perfection of their society, their worlds, their very selves. They're so sure of their own rectitude that even when presented with the evidence of their failures they can't believe them. I had to make three attempts at destroying the world Gate before they could conceive of the notion that I was trying to blow it up.
      As you will guess, they gave me to Shame. They fully expected him to reform me. But I have never been interested in forgiveness. I don't want to be healed, because I am not broken. All my life, my parents, my teachers, my elders, they have tried to mold me. But I will not be molded. I am. And so I laughed as Shame tried everything. Pain. Guilt. Reminders of duties I never accepted. When none of them worked, his attempts to Correct became attempts to break. He sent me to the Bleak. He starved me of food, company, light, sleep. He tried to work me to shattering. He wanted me to submit.
      No. Not me. Never.
      I laughed when I recognized the frustration he hid behind inscrutable eyes. I am laughing now as the Guardians lead me up the ramp to the executioner's Vines, where he's waiting with the Emperor's sword. I did not succeed in destroying the Gate, that's true. Instead, I will take this victory: I will destroy a man. I will be his great failure, the crack in his confidence. I will die as Shame's shame, publicly, bloodily, without recourse.
      And I will take him with me, and break him just as he tried to break me.
      I never fit into Kherishdar. I hated this world that had a place for me, an inescapable place. I wanted to force it open, to compel it to breathe... and barring that, to unmake it.
      It is better to die free than to kneel.
      I know you understand, aunera.



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© 2007, M. C. A. Hogarth