I was always a weak person.

I always cried. I cried when I killed a bug. I cried when my mom yelled at me. 

“Come one Edmund!” 

Turning around, I could see a young boy with crimson hair smiling at me. I was always weak, but he was strong for me. Looking down at my hands, I could see tiny, babyish hands. I was never meant to be this way, never meant to make it this far. Looking forward again was another regret to the list. In front of me was the red haired boy, now covered in blood with a hole in his left side.

No! Turning around, I did the thing I was best at when it came to my personal problems. I ran. I ran and ran until my legs gave out. Why?! Why am I such a coward?! I bent over holding my knees so that I could catch my breath.

“Haven’t you always been this way, though?”

I gasped at the new voice. But that’s… Standing before me was a picture perfect reflection. An imitation that was correct down to every pore in its skin. There was only one difference. This version of myself was older. Around the age of seventeen. 

“Poor little Edmund… Thinking things would change if you got stronger.”

My own voice mocked me from behind me. Quickly turning around I came face to face with a version of myself at the age of ten. “What are you talking about?” A tap on my shoulder caused me to look to my left. A flawless duplicate of my adult body stood there smirking.

“You still don’t get it do you…?”

They all spoke in unison. Faces now blank, they all surrounded me. “You made the biggest misconception.” The pre-pubescent version of myself circled around me, developing a face of mock awe. “So this is Edmund Neuer. The runner up for strongest adventurer.” My teenage self let out a laugh as fake as politicians promise. “We really did come a long way… I wonder what Mother would think?”

A tall woman with blonde hair came into existence behind the teenage mimic. Her hair went to her waist, styled in a wild and untamed way. “Ed… My little Ed!” Stretching her arms out in my direction, it was as if she were reaching out to embrace me.

Mother… Why does it feel so hard to breathe all of the sudden? My mother was the one topic I could never approach without going into a panic. Even the mere mention of her was enough to make me breathless. Seeing her here before me was worse than having to just hear about her. Breathe… I tried to back away from only to bump into my youngest self. Breathe… Short labored breaths escaped my mouth, sometimes turning into gasps as I struggled to gain any bearings. Breathe!

“Edmund, come to mommy!” The copy of my mother called out to me. When I did not immediately respond, she developed an angered visage. “Edmund. Come here. Right now.” Mother demanded in an livid tone, her pupils dilating. 

Breathe. My shaking hands struggled to remain in place. “You’re not real…” Falling to the floor I curled in on myself. “You aren’t real!”

…

I received no response. Peeking out of my little ball, I noticed that I was now in a small room. I was back in my adult body. What…?

I was put on alert after hearing scratching sounds from behind me. Upon turning around, I was met with a young child. Me. Again. I was ready to approach but his opening words put a pause in my actions.

“You asked why you had tried to be a good person…” Recalling my final thoughts before the rubbled fell upon my body, I wondered where he was taking this. “But the question you should have been asking is…” He turned to face me, his look of psychotic glee making my insides churn. 

“When was I ever a good person?” My own voice came from behind me again. Turning around seemed to be a trend when it came to me. I was now face to face with a mirror image of myself, except my hair was a pale white and my eyes a regal purple. “I was never a good person. After all, I have sins I hide from even myself.” His face was blank, his eyes empty, and his tone dead. “But you’ll deny that. If we aren’t good or bad, then ask me, ask yourself: Who am I?”

None of these questions, none of these riddles made any sense to me. How could I be considered weak? I was and still am hailed as the strongest rising star of Palais. “I’ll tell you who I am. I’m Edmund Neuer. The strongest swordsman the world will have ever seen!” Mocking my answer, the copy laughed at my words. Treating them like the words of a mere child. 

“You still don’t understand?” 

I ignored him. He must have expected that because he now had an irritating smile on his face. “Why don’t we settle this with blades then? If you are me? Well? Let your skills speak!” My irritations grew when he made two blades fall from the sky by waving his hand. Picking up the blade before me, I watched as he got into the same stance I always use. Fine then… Taking my stance, I did nothing to hide my glare. 

“I’m going to enjoy carving that smile off of your face-”

I hadn’t even finished talking before I felt my upper body fall back. I had been bisected in two. “What…”

Looking down on me with those empty eyes again, the copy only spared me a glance before turning away. “You’re not perfect but I guess you’ll do. I was expecting more than just talk.” With that he walked away as my vision faded. 

“What…” Was all I could muster out before I was pulled into the realm of unconsciousness.