- Joined
- Jan 1, 2003
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*spoilers abound, so if you haven't seen this episode, consider this fair warning*
I have been waiting ever since, master.
I know you are no longer of this world, but still I wait.
He set me free, master, the one who bore your face. And so I wander, seeking any trace of you.
But yet, I never wander far. The same devotion that drove me to wait has bourne in me another hope, that your spirit may someday return to the mansion. In my heart I know that you never shall, but two centuries of waiting have corrupted my thoughts.
So I always return to the mansion, plagued with horrid imaginings. Why did you not return? What drove you from this world?
I have read the diary you kept, master. I know of your dealings, of your deperation to mantain the lifestyle to which you were accustomed. Was one of these the end of you?
Two hundred years of thinking this way have distorted my memory of you. I know you were a kind man to me, but who were you when I was not around? What was your true self?
Your final entry mentions that you left to make a deal in safety. You knew of the danger, and wished to protect us. But master, I would have given my life for you. Did you know that?
Or could you not bring me? What was this deal that cost you your life? Was it something that would have turned me away from you, something that would have revealed a side of you that I could not bear?
I took a human form so that I may travel under less suspicion, with the name you gave me. Like the kitsune of legend, this form has grace, strength, beauty, power...I play the role somewhat shyly, but he was your image, I could not help myself.
Somewhere within me, I believed you had returned.
Somewhere within me, I believe you still shall.
And so I wait, bound here forever by my own mind, my maddening devotion.
Spirits, if you may hear me, please bring my master to me. Or if you cannot, please, strike my soul from my body and bring me to him.
I cannot wait much longer, master. No matter what I may find of you, of your true self, I am tired of this life, of this binding to an empty house. There is nothing left here but my twisted memories.
And still I wait.
I have been waiting ever since, master.
I know you are no longer of this world, but still I wait.
He set me free, master, the one who bore your face. And so I wander, seeking any trace of you.
But yet, I never wander far. The same devotion that drove me to wait has bourne in me another hope, that your spirit may someday return to the mansion. In my heart I know that you never shall, but two centuries of waiting have corrupted my thoughts.
So I always return to the mansion, plagued with horrid imaginings. Why did you not return? What drove you from this world?
I have read the diary you kept, master. I know of your dealings, of your deperation to mantain the lifestyle to which you were accustomed. Was one of these the end of you?
Two hundred years of thinking this way have distorted my memory of you. I know you were a kind man to me, but who were you when I was not around? What was your true self?
Your final entry mentions that you left to make a deal in safety. You knew of the danger, and wished to protect us. But master, I would have given my life for you. Did you know that?
Or could you not bring me? What was this deal that cost you your life? Was it something that would have turned me away from you, something that would have revealed a side of you that I could not bear?
I took a human form so that I may travel under less suspicion, with the name you gave me. Like the kitsune of legend, this form has grace, strength, beauty, power...I play the role somewhat shyly, but he was your image, I could not help myself.
Somewhere within me, I believed you had returned.
Somewhere within me, I believe you still shall.
And so I wait, bound here forever by my own mind, my maddening devotion.
Spirits, if you may hear me, please bring my master to me. Or if you cannot, please, strike my soul from my body and bring me to him.
I cannot wait much longer, master. No matter what I may find of you, of your true self, I am tired of this life, of this binding to an empty house. There is nothing left here but my twisted memories.
And still I wait.