The Innocent, the Victim
They’ll see in time, I guess, but for now, this piece of paper is the only thing that listens to me without condescension in its eyes.
I’ve always been predisposed to written rather than spoken language; fittingly, then, my final — and true — confession is contained within this letter.
Four days ago, I killed someone. Today, I am going to be killed in recompense by the people for whom I drew my blade.
“But aren’t you a Toa?”
“What about the Toa Code?”
“Whatever happened to honor?”
Save your breath. I already know. The death row prison is open for the public to view. I’ve already been subjected to impromptu interrogations and how-can-you-live-with-yourself remarks. I even answered the questioners until I realized they didn’t want to hear anything contrary to their own beliefs.
Forgive my digression, but there’s something about a cell that makes me want to write. I guess it’s like why the caged bird sings: What else has it to do?
Let me backtrack.
Yes, I am a Toa. My name is Kirhuu. I’ve always been the happy-go-lucky member of my Toa team, the jokester. They were shocked when they heard the news.
The body of a Vortixx lies in a medical examination room somewhere, presumably torn open by a doctor with a high estimation of his own intelligence and an assumption that he already knows what happened.
Yes. I killed that Vortixx; I do not deny it. But I killed him for the right reasons.
It took a month for me to prove he was a threat to my city. I didn’t decide on the spur of the moment that I would murder him. My investigation was thorough, and it proved beyond a reasonable doubt that the Vortixx was a cult leader who regularly led his followers to the Mountain — the central landmark of Xia — and picked one to feed to the Mountain as a “worthy sacrifice”. I staked out one such event and relayed my findings back to my team.
They agreed that something had to be done.
So I did what had to be done.
I confronted him that night, a cold one, the wind howling and my exhales morphing into mist. I knew where he was hiding: a small, boarded-up building with a large basement. It didn’t take long to find, and it took even less time for me to break down the door.
He emerged. I shouted. Silver gleamed, and his knife dug into my side.
I ran my sword through him, he whispered one last lie about his innocence, and that was the end of it.
Is it so bad that he’s dead? Xia didn’t lose anyone significant. He was the murderer, and I the exacter of justice. Such is the occupation of Toa.
It’s funny, isn’t it, that killing for my home means my home kills me? It will only have five Toa left to do what has to be done; I pray that my brothers and sisters will actually do it.
Edited by Legolover-361, Dec 09 2013 - 09:20 AM.