Salvation of The Scum Fifth Prince

[63 - mirage; to forget him]

He was back in this place, again. Soren felt hazy, like a cloth had been draped over his entire being, snuffling out noises and keeping him blind from the world. Yet in some strange way, this suffocating space was almost comfort

No need to think, care, breathe. There was no need to do anything except allow his mind to wander.

A part of him was aware that this illusion was one he wasn't meant to accept, but to break free of. The Forest of Good and Evil. Once judgment came, you would be allowed to leave.

But his judgment, unknowingly, had been one that trapped him in here.

It was easy to act however he pleased when they weren't forcing him to face his thoughts, but when picking at his innermost thoughts, it quickly revealed his simmering self-hatred.

He didn't deem himself worthy.

Not in the slightest.

He curled up more tightly as a glimmer of light shone before him. Icy eyes, mixed with swirls of quiet raven, peeked open.

In the darkness, scenes played out in front of him as if it were a movie.

The strange thing was, it was as if every action that he watched himself do in the movie directly reflected on him. It was as if he were there, in the shimmering mirage of film, but also not there, under weighted cloth that restrained him.

There were many scenes of his past, after Raphael entered his life. Not their first meeting, or their last, but the many in betweens.

He decided, blurrily, that there was a disconnect in his memories. Raphael undoubtedly existed — but not in the apocalypse he had known. It was as if his memories had two parallels, one of an apocalypse without Raphael and the other with.

Not that it really mattered, when both memories would belong to him regardless.

There were two halves of the screen playing simultaneously, and it made his mind spin in dizziness. Like he was in two places at once, being stretched and pulled forcefully.

The original's life had been full of debauchery, and only watching it in person did Soren understand that.

It had started from a simple child who craved his brothers' love.

It started with the closed doors, the glances away and the silence that greeted him. It started with the mocking jeers of the servant, the missed meals and the clamoring voices.

At some point, however, the servants who insulted him were carefully replaced — the others gone who knew where.

And then, the original began to change from a sweet, helpless child, to a rebellious and arrogant prince. In order to not be jeered at again, he filled his mouth with his terrible insults and awful confidence.

In order to not be ignored, he acted in such flamboyant ways that one could not ignore him, even if they wanted to.

The original had changed everything he was, for the sake of lacking love that he never received to the very end.

That was the simple, yet complicated story of Soren Rosenbaum, a side character who'd only been briefly mentioned in the original novel. Yet he was a main character in his own right, a whole tale simply unknown.

The air suddenly stilled, and static flew across the mirage in a violent shake.

Images twisted and turned, morphing into random shapes and colours as Soren watched more carefully.

On the left, a particular person was kneeling on the ground over what seemed to be his dead body, brows furrowed tightly as they gritted their jaw so tight, the veins along their neck could be made out.