“He” has always existed.
Or at least that’s what the stories say. I’ve never found “him” in all my childhood years. I’m not so sure if I believe in “him” anymore.
In a small house near the edge of a wood, looking out into a grassy plain, lives a humble family; me, my sister, and my brother, both of which are younger than me. I love them; I just don’t know them. We have never been close, not because we don’t get along, but because we are often separated. For years, ever since our parents disappeared, I have spent my time scouring the woods every day, searching for food, gathering firewood, doing everything I can to keep them alive. I don’t know them, and they don’t know me, but I care for them.
Sometimes, I feel like they don’t know that they’re dying, that without the meager care I give them, things would grow worse. It’s hard to imagine worse. With only me to provide for them, I don’t know how else they would survive.
But “he” has always existed. My parents used to tell me of “him”. They said “he” was a great warrior—a wielder of strange, mystical powers. His sword flashed quicker than lightning, they told me, and his strength was mightier than a giant’s, and his endurance could not be matched. And they said that, in difficult times, “he” would keep me going. “He” would help me fight through my trials. “He” aided all. “He” was a lender of inner, mystical strength.
That’s what my parents said. That was before they disappeared. I wish I knew more about who “he” was. But I don’t. As the days go by, I want to travel the large, beautiful forests and the wide, windy plains, and look for “him”. I could use “his” help. But I can’t—I can’t go in search of “him”. My brother and sister wouldn’t be able to survive on their own.
My parents always said that there was Evil in these lands. It came from afar, not from the Golden Lands, but elsewhere. They said that it would find us; all of us. We had to be careful, they would say—there was evil in all of us.
Maybe that’s why I’ve never seen “him”. Maybe I can’t see “him” because of the Evil. Or maybe not seeing “him” is the Evil.
But then it came. Like my parents said, Evil would find us. It only seeks to grow, they said. The evil inside of us, it beckons to more evil. If we do not defeat the evil inside us, then we might as well let Evil walk right through our door. If we do not cast out darkness, then it will only grow inside of us. And once it does that, it will consume those around us.
The day I forgot this advice will be the day I will never forget.
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