Confession 2

It was not a choice I made consciously. At least, I hope it was not. Geas always look blurry in hindsight. But, I made it voluntarily and so I answer to the Order of Dark Life. They told us not to hope our mothers would come rescue us. Few of us did. They left us there, after all. They told us emotions were useless. We learned to bury them. They told us we should become immune to pain. We learned to fake it. I remember the masters discussing what they should do with me as if I could not hear them. They do it to this day, in my head. I understand the link is necessary to send me on my missions, but often they all simply ramble to each other and me the business of the guild as it pertains to me. They will occasionally honor my request to be silent while I work or rest.

My mother held a geas over me, too. I had no choice in it. She impressed it shortly after I was born. I can hear her voice in my head constantly. Alcohol can make it temporarily go away, but the effect fades quickly. Her voice will disturb my sleep. Her voice irritates me when I am missions. Her voice presses me to kill people that upset her. Her voice tells me to kill for others who will pay us money for the work. If I ignore her, her guardian disciplines me. Her guardian likes the fact that I can be injured with impunity. Her control was officially to ensure I would protect my brother. If he so much as scraped his knee, whether I was there or not, I was punished. Punitive deaths from Sethiel are intentionally horrible.

And then, there is Michael. Yes, it was a voluntary geas. I chose to submit to this one at the tender age of twenty-six minutes. As a result, he is my primary. He can always know where I am and I can always hear him when he needs me. The compulsion is so deep that he need not even be aware of what he wants me to do. I can instinctively feel it in his subconscious and am compelled to follow it. I did it out of love and I would do it again, for the same foolish reason.

Then, there is Valerie. She was a vicious little thing when I met her, but I have grown very fond of her as she has grown into an incredible, indomitable woman. She is like a little sister to me. Perhaps, even more of late. I pledged myself to her. I serve as an instrument of her power and a sword of her justice. I have bribed, beaten, extorted, maimed, and executed men in her name. And, I do it willingly, without geas or bind, entirely on the honor of a pledge. I started as her assassin, but she now refers to me as her justiciar and hears my advice as much as sends me to do her bidding.

So, I question myself, after all I have been through, after all that I have sacrificed, after all that I have been compelled to do against my will or with it, would I be able to make a decision without any of the myriad voices in my head? Would I have the capability of saying no to my brother if I truly wanted to do so? I did want to do so. I did want to ... I can say yes, but I cannot say no. Is any activity between us then consensual by default or forced? I cannot imagine it any other way... but what if I could have said no... I love him just the same. I love him just as much. He is still my brother. I still care... Why did this have to happen to us, between us? I cannot change what we did. He does not want to change what we did. All those times throughout our life that we hugged or kissed or held hands were innocent. We were just siblings... ... He is happy. That is what matters. That is ...

No... please... just no...