Every story has a King and a Jester.

The one who chases the treasure for others.

The one set on destruction because of others.

If this life was a story, or perhaps a fairytale, then I'd be the villain. The one who reaps chaos, the one who steals the treasure, making the world incomplete with endless, ravaging disasters.

I'd be the one who failed to overcome my past, stripping the happiness from your future. The failure, who tried to give everything up for love. The fool; who had tried to make himself a God.

In this life, I was the Villain. I was the one who always lost, always died, the one who went astray, pleading for you - the dear hero - to save me.

Save me you did, plunging a blade through my chest for the 'greater good'. It was only then you realise the mistake you had made in this not so happy ending fairytale. The imminent truth, that only one can live happily ever after.

Alas, it will always be you who will win - for death is always the price a villain must pay. When his dreams and nightmares are plagued with the intent to destroy the world, bringing vibrant colours into a faded world lost in chaos.

You will realise -

The villain was the hero.

The hero was the villain.

Happiness was prevented.

By the one they all gave the flag to weave in their name.

* * *

The resounding, tumultuous thud of a book closing innescessantly echoed across the dreary; solitary room. Candles, numbering the few, had their blaze ignited arduously. Setting the room in a comfortable glow, within that sombre space. It was then a presence made itself known. 

In the room, where only a glimpse of light and encroaching shadows seem to live, lay a handsome young man with a disheveled appearance.

Subtly, gleaming raven hair that glimmered softly reminiscent of a stygian, but comfortable darkness, along with an impeccable features that were drowned in slight agony. 

Usually, this would have been enough to evoke any feelings of sympathy within a woman's heart. However, for the man in question it would be anything but a luxury.

Achlys Grey.

He was an odd child. That was an undeniable fact.

Whether it was his attitude towards those he didn't acknowledge, or the lack of passion to achieve greatness. His unmistakable sense or normalcy nor his cold-headed way of thinking that rejected emotions. He was a youth many people in the past steered away from.

In a more superficial way, he would be considered as an: "extra", or perhaps even a "mob". An individual with no redeeming or stark qualities that makes him stand out from any other. Just a casual, ordinary run off-the-mill character who is mentioned once before never appearing again.

That was the type of man Achlys Grey can be considered to be. The one, and only, son of the Viscount - Illogan Grey. A man widely respected and loved by his people, due to his overwhelming kindness and lackluster ambition. Perhaps that is the reason as to why he had never been promoted to an Earl.

Well, that was supposed to be the case if it wasn't for an unescapable change occurring within Achlys, or the one who had become him...

Exactly two days ago, the one named and known by most as Achlys Grey, the next Heir and offspring of Viscount Illogan Grey, had made a tremendous change.

His usual listless antics, and unaspiring behaviour had suddenly halted when the boy locked himself in his room. Unwilling to see anybody, including his father, with the excuse of: "recollecting my thoughts".

None of them...had ever envisaged such a surprising outcome.

Obviously, there had been a spike of immediate queries and theories as to why the boy hadn't stepped out. Ranging from uncountable stories such as giving up on life, or even the outrageous fable that he met a woman and felt a sudden change of heart. The gossip that travelled far and wide only seemed to grow larger, steadier and more absurd with each passing second.

However, unfortunately for them, their absurd and indescribable superstitious thoughts would not come to fruition any time soon. Unless the door to the room that cages him opens.

As for the reason he was holed up in his room? It was safe to say that only the person in question will ever know...

* * *

I gazed blankly upon the weathered ceiling. My hand frozen in silence atop the obsidian book that had the words [The Villain and the Hero] written in elegant, cursive strokes.

Drawn in such way, that when a person looks upon it they would immediately be drawn in, thinking, 'whoever created this must be a noble who had practised years of calligraphy!' which was practically normal to assume so.

However, perhaps only I knew that it was false. 
For I was the one who brought it to life. Etching the dialogue of my favourite poem, and many more, onto a book. To pass time, or to not lose myself in this chaotic situation was something unknown to even me.

My sight blurred as I recollected myself calmly. Mind, skimming over everything that occurred within the previous days. Intently. Even if it meant to gloss over those I buried.

Unsurprisingly, I was man who had no solace. One who lost and drowned himself repeatedly over a simple game. Endlessly. A victim, to the thorny hands of addiction. Perhaps, I still would be if I hadn't found myself in this ludicrous situation.

It was simply unexplainable. Whether it was the sudden transportation to another world - that I concluded was the game I last played, [Garden of Eden] - or the possession of a character I have never encountered. Even after playing continously for five whole years.

Achlys Grey.

He was an outlier. An anomaly that simply shouldn't exist, not to be rude in a disrespectful way.

Although it may seem incredulous for me to make such a conclusion, I had every right to do so. Even if I have to agree that I don't understand single character like the back of my hand. Howevee, no one could deny the vast and expensive knowledge I contained. Absolutely no one.

That is why I was so self-assured in my deduction.

After all - Viscount Illogan Grey never had an offspring within the game.

He was a man with no wife, or children. None at all, due to the duties and responsibilities he held as a Lord. I knew this very well, due to once having a quest that led me on this very territory. Collecting information about a foreign place in advance was a given.

The soft, gentle tapping of my fingers echoed within my ears like a reminder. A soothing melody, as I proposed two possible conclusions. Both that may induce a wretched migraine that will make me want to jump and fling myself off a cliff.

One - the current world I was in - [Arcadia] - was undoubtedly a parallel one. Or either created a vessel by twisting the laws of nature to accommodate my soul, or 'mind', for allow my stay here.

As for Who or Why, it simply didn't matter for me at thus very moment. Especially if it will leave me with more questions then answers in turn.

It was a theory that encompassed the very meaning of unreasonable. It was simply, and utterly illogical. However, the possibility still exists. As long as there is the slightest chance of it being true, then you can never discard the answer. No matter how slim.

Two - I was in a future where the Hero achieved the [True Ending] and now live in peace, or war. However, this option seemed far more imbecilic than the first, especially when considering the fact that most routes and decisions end up in failure anyways.

With my eyes regaining focus, I leaned myself forward. The scent of pages, and the disillusioned figure of a flame searing my vision, the feeling of unimaginable discomfort enveloped me.

The possibility of being in the future with no sight in mind was far more terrifying than being transported into the era that may decide of what will come. After all the oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is the fear of the unknown.

"What a drag..."

Slapping my face with cold, rigid hands to snap out of philosophical thoughts; I pulled myself forward from the splintering, wooden chair. Picking up and placing the book alongside countless others that were sprawled around the room. Right now it was best to focus on the present, than the ever changing future.

I swiftly used my hands to straighten my clothes that were crumpled due to the period spent on the chair. Immediately after, I proceeded to prop myself to the bathroom washing my face while staring at the reflection that gazed coldly back at me.

"Achlys Grey."

A smile of acceptance formed on my visage as I uttered the name with a smooth, baritone voice. A pale hand, finding its way to lift my messy hair as I've shouldered the responsibility of the man who should've. 

Even though I had no other choice. Alas, what could he do? Groan, panic and sit at the corner, wallowing in depression because I've found myself in a new world. Or run around in excitement, causing people to think you got possessed before ending up getting killed.

I picked neither. I've welcomed the change instead of doing any other option because I didn't have time to waste. Nor to die. I had to adjust during the past few days, in order for me to survive just a few seconds more in this 'game' turned reality I know very well about.

After all, people have to adapt; overcome. That is what it means to be a human -

A being that is unmatched in terms of intelligence.