Another Son Lost

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What have I done to deserve this?

Why must a father suffer the loss of yet another son?

Was not murdering our child enough for you, Elysia?

Did the act of infanticide not make you content?

Did you gain as much pleasure in taking Octavian away as you did with my firstborn?

How you must’ve laughed when I saw him.

When I saw what Octavian had become.

I knew something ill had befallen on Sarcadia.

My golden moon had been consumed by a sinister, bloody red hue.

Then I heard my son’s cries from Caelum.

He was in so much pain.

But I saw not my son.

I saw a monster.

It reminded me of… them.

The ones I swore to forget.

I looked at my son.

I was repulsed.

I was disgusted.

How could you do this to him?

How could he have allowed this to happen to himself?

Perhaps my initial thoughts were correct.

Octavian was not ready.

He never was.

I thought him special because he was the strongest of his brothers.

But my other sons are worthless.

A shiny stone among the mud is still a stone.

The Caelestials were right about him.

They were right about all my sons.

My love as a father blinded me from the obvious truth.

They are weak.

Pathetic.

Useless.

They have all failed me.

Every single one.

Especially him.

Octavian.

My son.

How you have disappointed me.

You should have seen through the veil the Dark Mother cast.

Your suffering is your own doing.

You are no longer my son.

You are a monster.

My heart broke when I saw what you had become.

I cannot allow you to continue to be.

And if you, the strongest of them all, could fall so easily.

Then I must purge all my sons.

Elysia shall not have the pleasure of taking any more from me.

They have done nothing but cause me grief.

My daughters.

They are the ones I’ve always truly adore.

Warriors full of bravery, strength, and intelligence.

They were always destined for greatness, yet I still had hope for my sons.

No longer shall I be so foolish.

My daughters will restore the honour their brothers tainted.

Especially you.

Octavian.

Perhaps I should have listened to the Caelestials when you were born.

Perhaps I should have ended your life prematurely.

That way you would not have grown up to become a disappointment to me.

— “The Atriarch Monologues: Another Son Lost”, Bruce Boward, 214 AO

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