Memoir of Morté

What if you had another being in your soul? What if their memories and your's became intertwined?

Chapter 1
Memoirs of Morté, where to begin? What hazy thought to attempt and explain? Perhaps i should try from one of the first incarnations. A child of the emperor, which dynasty i can not recall, raised from birth to take the throne, but never satisfied with politics. Father never did have much to say to me, or of me.

I took to skulking around the barracks, listening to the soldier's stories, Learning techniques from the master at arms, practicing day and night while father was away. I was gifted with the blade more than any other weapon, the mirrors edge of the flat, the satisfying clash and spark of metal on metal. The smell of blood was to me what roses are to a woman, it was sweet and tangy, soft but painful. It was home. As i grew older i thirsted for the next battle, for the spray of another's soul into the air, that is how I came to meet Dares, though he was older by a decade or so, i felt a kinship. Unspoken save for a breath as another lay gasping for air at our feet, i knew in my mind's eye that we would remain as blood brother's through the ages...

November 5th 1993.
It was early that day, when i heard the cries of a newborn babe. I knew this one would be special, he would be the turning point in many a life. Twin, his name translated in the hebrew tongue. A reflection of my first form from head to toe, his eyes though bright would become darker with age, would reflect the very soul of whosoever he came in contact with. Why would this child be so important to me you may ask? That remains to be seen.

The giving of a name, what a tedious process, so many factors and elements involved. Honor, prowess on the battlefield, behavior, all had a hand in your naming. My personal guard took to calling me death's hand, for i had saved a multitude of my soldiers on the field simply by raising my right hand to signal the volley of arrows before the enemy had time to gain their bearing.
That feels like a millennia ago, gods how the ages flew. The emperor's son fell on the field, his royal blood stained the sword of a peasant, though i held no grudge against him, after all he was just following orders. I felt darkness engulf me like the fires we had set to so many villages, I was drifting endlessly, or so it seemed...

Chapter 2,
August 8th 1995
The child was walking through the land his grandmother owned, stumbling over roots every now and then but determined to uncover every secret this area had to offer. "Get over here!", his mother called to him as his older brothers sat watching television. His ears perked up and a grin developed on his face as he continued his exploration, not even two years old and already determined to be the master of his own life, such a bright light in a world of shadows. He reluctantly ambled back to his mother before she sent either of his brothers after him. She would never know but he could see beyond the veil that separates the living and the dead. Though he may not have realized it, i was always there. In his nightmares i found him peace, in his troubles i brought him luck, in his sorrow i would find a way to lift him up.

My next few incarnations held relatively little importance, always a soldier, or a thief, a menace to some, a blessing to others. In every passing, every transistion, there would always be one constant, a name now no more than a whisper in history untold. Dares. We would cross paths on accident, neither realizing it was the other until it was too late. Quite a few times i remember a flash of silver on my journeys to my new host home, and then darkness surrounding piercing red and gray eyes. Then i would regain consciousness in a new body, a new life. There were many lives however where we would join forces or i would end his host's life. Athens, Rome, Egypt, Somalia... so many wars, so much bloodshed. Too little time for a city to prepare for what we had become.

Chapter 3

October 14th 1999.
The boy always sat in the back of class, quietly watching those around him. If you were to try to observe him you'd find a book in his hands and a far away look in his eyes. An escape from what he had to go home to, arguing, nothing to sate his hunger, no father to speak of. The people around him feared him, and mistrusted him, misunderstood who he truly was.

Dares taught me much about what i am, unlike myself, he would retain all his memory from the lives before. I had to awaken each time, with no real memory of who i am, or what i was before. My host would have nightmares of death, followed by the crow for most of his waking moments, sometimes I would lay dormant, waiting for them to realize what was in their mind, others i made myself known to them. My choice of colors, and by extension my host clothing colors, through most lives would be silver and a shade of black that made obsidian look pale in comparison. I was an unwanted soul, a demon cast out from hell, the reaper himself did not want me. Wings the shade of crimson and ebony, golden eyes that pierced scoundrels and royalty alike. I decided to rename myself, though i would forget it after a few centuries spent in a void. Morté, a name most came to fear and respect.

I wandered aimlessly for a century or so, helping whatever host i happened to take overcome their mortal dilemmas. Some of them and their close friends who knew of me considered me evil, for whatever reason they may have forced out, they hated me. They hated that i could see through their pretty lies and trickery, millennia spent cohorting with thieves and politicians alike made sure i would never be led falsely by another.

Chapter 4
June 8th, 2003
He grew colder toward those around him, no emotional bond meant less chance of getting hurt. He had scars in his soul from his family's constant bickering, his brother's bullying, being molested by the older of the two. It haunted him every night in his dreams. He would lie awake for nights on end, uncomfortable in whatever place he stayed. The only one he loved and respected anymore was his grandfather, the man who taught him how to conduct business. His guardian, though thick and thin.

I watched seasons change, power swap hands more times than i could count, weapons become more precise. Wood and stone become iron and leather. Then something changed. Technology became the weapon of choice. The twentieth century, a time of wonder for an old soul such as myself. I studied the people and their behavior, after all if you had access to unlimited knowledge, wouldn't you use it?

(from The boy's perspective)
I had always felt a presence watching me, never knowing why or what it wanted. I realized sometime in my preteens that it wasn't a harmful being...at least not to me. He, as I later found, was simply waiting to be reborn. His opportunity came with my first near death experience. It was he that brought me back from the brink, that gave me a purpose. He showed me what I was lacking within myself, or what I had hidden and buried. He made the person most know today possible. What would I be if we had not met? I only shudder to imagine the wreck I would be, or the grave I would have put myself into... Thank you dear Morté for all that you helped me accomplish, for being my friend through it all. For allowing me to be.... Free.

I remember growing up, never really having anyone to confide in, just absorbing myself into whatever novels or games I could get my hands on. I suppose looking back I should have attempted to be more sociable then, but I wouldn't be where I am now. The dreams I would have growing up at my grandmother's, spirits and demons, were just memories and messages.

I never really understood it until my teen years, a mistake that cost me my life for what seemed like eternity. I felt untouchable and indestructible until that moment, pierced by nature and shown a vision of what my life would have led to... Hell in a sense, helpless, powerless to end the suffering of those I would care about. Every nightmare, every cut, heartbreak, or traumatic event repeated over and over endlessly, feeling everything they did... Torture, then a voice offering salvation