What I desire

 What is the goal of every human? What is the purpose of a conscious creature?

Why does one struggle so desperately to live? Holding onto even the dimmest lantern of hope until their final breath, caring not for the boundless despair that permeates every corner of this world.

There are many answers, no doubt. Some would say struggle is an inseparable part of being a living creature, that we are born to bend the natural flow of the world through grit and will.

Others would claim it is for the sake a greater cause beyond our meager selves, that the meaning of our existence lies among the stars, with the mighty divine above.

Perhaps some didn’t even have a reason, perhaps the fear of death was just that overpowering—the darkness of the world preferable to oblivion.

How much truth did their beliefs hold? Hugo couldn’t say.

He had no great revelations to make, no new dilemmas to find, no new wisdom to offer humanity.

Hugo had no doubt in his mind, he was blinder than most. A creature of desire interested only in momentary delights with no concern for tomorrow—forever chasing a phantom of fulfillment.

Though if one were to strip away the flowery words and the pointless thoughts, he supposes there would only be a yearning for that fleeting, ephemeral feeling—happiness.

It brings great highs with its arrival, leaving behind a pleasant warmth upon its departure. Unnoticed in the present, it’s perceived only in blurs of memory.

His addiction is total—every beat of the heart dedicated only to the search of those moments of euphoria, to that phantom of joy.

For a fiend as simple as he, there exists no other reason to live.

And yet, he finds himself unable to take a single step forward.

What great lows the path holds, what terrible darkness the journey hides. He’s faced it once before in the pits of hell, and the boundless despair that crushed his soul still has a hand gripped firmly around his throat.

What great terror, what great fear. How could one frail as he hope to face such a beast?

Is it not easier to merely be content? Is it not safer? More trustworthy?

No sadness plagues his heart, no tragedy befalls his life. The eternal comfort of familiarity, why should he deny it?

The family that surrounds him, the endless love they bestow upon him. Why would he risk it all in favor of something as fleeting as happiness?

‘You must break your shell first if you wish to see the beauty of this village, my little gryphon.’

Envy, perhaps that is the reason why.

When his mother spoke of the joy found in Belan, it seemed so perfect. It felt as though she wasn’t merely content.

It felt as though she found happiness within the ever cyclic days.

He couldn’t help but wonder, could he too find such a life? Where every day is a memory of utter joy, compounding upon itself until the door to despair is shut forever more.

If he simply finds the courage to march onward with no regard for fear, could he too live at such an eternal peak of fulfillment?

‘Hugo! Get back here, it’s dangerous!’ James yelled.

Perhaps he could, yet his legs still weigh heavier than lead.

A single step he cannot take, his pathetic being lacking the bravery to face the unknown. Fear whispered into his ears—that he was simply born to be content, true happiness forever out of reach…

That it was simply fate.

‘Can I go to school then? I wanna learn numbers.’

No, he once had it in his heart—the fearlessness to face the unknown, the will to reach out towards the distant stars.

Did he lose it along the way? Did he give it up in favor of something else?

…He hoped that wasn’t true.

If it was simply buried somewhere within him, even if it was a thousand kilometers below a mountain of gravel, he was sure he'd be able to find it someday, far far in the future.

Even if he couldn’t take a step forward, if he just struggled onward inch by inch…

“Mister Orin, I accept your offer. Thank you, truly.”

…then just maybe, he'll be happy again.

Others cheered around him, Orin excitedly spoke of his plans for the future. He cared not for the burden of expectation, yet their words of congratulations still felt suffocating.

This fear, this terror, it appeared to be a ghost of an obstacle that existed for no other. Perhaps there never was anything blocking his path, every hurdle conceived only by his delusional self.

Cold steel embraced his limbs, chains with no origin locking him in place. Yet a glance below would prove him wrong, legs and arms free from all.

Not even his own eyes deigned to take his side, he truly was alone in these binds of dread.

But…

‘What’s been plaguing your thoughts as of late?’ His mother asked.

There will forever be a wind at his back, pushing him onward. Even if they didn’t fully understand, their presence will never be found lacking. That he was sure of, scepticism be damned.

“I-I’ll miss you.” Such a whisper was carried by the afternoon breeze, reaching only the ears of his mother. Hugo opened his arms wide for a hug when she took a step towards him.

He received a chop on the head instead.

“There is nothing to miss. You’re visiting us at least once a week, understood?” There was a stunned moment of silence, followed by a rare genuine laugh from him.

“Y-Yeah.” He said as he embraced his mother. They nearly fell when Ellyn charged in to join, and were fully thrown to the ground when Rucio ran in laughing.

As hesitant and unsure as it may be, with the strength of those standing behind him, he’ll try stretching a hand out into the darkness.

Then just maybe…

Just maybe…

…