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It's not as if I consider things like this often.
Maybe a long while ago, as a curious child not yet disenchanted with essentially all other sentient life... aside from my adorable little friends, of course. But that's besides the point! It's all far behind me by now. Separated by light years and decades, neither of which I'll be getting back anytime soon.
To preface, this… 'word vomit' all stems from a mere solicitation from that nuisance, the Comet Warlock. He'd requested that I service him once again, and I couldn't quite refuse. After the fact, that studious boy I never recall the name of caught me muttering to myself and suggested I insert my feelings beneath the covers of an empty tome.
Well, he made a statement far more impolite than that, but I'd no choice but to heed the brat's advice. I lack options when I've not found a single therapist in this dimension, and I prefer to not wallow in the aftertaste of my own blunders for too long.
Ever since that first affair, in which he'd intruded on my home and forced his baking lessons upon me, he just has not ceased! It must be the fourth or fifth time as of now. "Oh Dark Mage, it's Rulue's birthday celebration, you just gotta help me make it extra sweet for all the guests," or perhaps, "Oshare is setting up a pretty nifty pop-up market for Halloween, it'd be a real treat if you could lend a hand." It. Is. Infuriating! Whether I agree to it initially or not, I'm always dragged into one little game or another. Have I not made it undeniably clear that I prefer to play with myself?!
Our last meeting, and most recent incident apparently took place on Valentine's day. I was wholly unaware of this fact. Holidays are of little importance to me, further so when the subject is romance. I've never had a lover, contrary to the belief of certain children who seem to take overwhelming pleasure in prying and rumors. I wonder how severely my personal life would still concern them if they were thrown into a dungeon in the middle of a school day.
However, if I'm being honest with myself, cooperating with that utter loon of a wizard isn't that grand of a thorn in my flesh compared to other encounters in which I've found myself tied up. Of course, it's most tolerable when he's focused and quiet. Yet when he's prattling on about confections or whatever nonsense Accord's students are up to, I end up smiling too. Just a smidge. I even humor his desire to banter occasionally, despite knowing full well that it often ends with him coercing yet more humiliating articulation errors from my mouth. And then I'll keep my mouth nice and shut afterwards, and eventually he'll grow uneasy enough to shut his own, and the cycle continues.
I shouldn't have been shocked when that young diviner who hangs off of Lemres's cape at nearly every waking moment happened to walk by our stand at the utmost inconvenient of times. I don't remember what I had said to enrage the girl, but supposedly it'd been considered indecent enough for her to have waltzed up to me and uttered some form of sibylline threat, just when I thought I'd earned my solitude back. It was nothing I'm unaccustomed to, but curious nonetheless. She'd whispered something along the lines of "The stars will not allow for it. You… can not take him from me."
Now, I've traded enough words with both Lemres and Feli's peers to gather that she's horribly lovesick. Even so, I can't help but wonder. Is that truly what love is?
At this rate, I'll be the last man in this entire web of dimensions to understand it. When I tried to request further perspective from other residents of this area, my proposition was nearly always met with some flustered, baseless accusation followed by the subject promptly running away. I didn't bother to ask Rulue nor Satan, as I wasn't particularly in the mood for getting on my knees and begging for mercy on behalf of my ears.
Besides, the manner in which they act around the objects of their affection doesn't agree with any literature I've found on the matter. Ooh, "Silky green hair" this, "immaculate horn curvatures" that, but I don't believe for a second that she genuinely enjoys his company, nor the other way around. Meanwhile, Satan's affections for Arle appear to be a thinly veiled ploy to receive Carbuncle back from her, at least in my eyes. I suppose there is the whole aspect of his widowership, and that uncanny resemblance, however… I'd rather not think about all of that.
I even questioned that shopkeep who sells his wares on the outskirts of Primp, the fashionable skeleton. He didn't seem to think of me as a creeper, for which I was grateful. However, it was also greatly helpful that I hadn't gotten my hopes up, because after he mentioned his long lost husband, he drifted off into a pensive silence so awkward that I had to take my leave that time.
Separated by light years and decades, neither of which we'll be getting back anytime soon.
I sometimes think of my very first encounter with Incubus in some dungeon, I'm unsure at what time or where, the cobblestone walls all blend into one in my memories. He rudely questioned me on whether or not I'd "made love" before. And somehow still, I'm considered the pervert… Anyhow, I'm unsure what fornication necessarily has to do with love, so that phrase never made sense to me. I also don't know if I'd particularly enjoy either one of those things. It's loathsome enough to have my appearance commented on… And to be completely sincere, even the kindest of embraces make my skin crawl. That Amitie girl has a habit of just giving them out for free.
Amitie didn't take kindly to me much at all upon our first meetings. She considered me a threat to Sig and his demonic arm, whom she seems quite close with. Perhaps just a couple of full moons after my failed pursuit for her friend's demonic power, I assisted her in rescuing Arle from one of Satan's convoluted, idiotic schemes. She thanked me ecstatically for my aid and threw herself onto me, with much similarity to how she treated Arle just moments before.
Initially, that girl ignited no more faith in me finding answers from her than anyone else I'd already asked. She already considered me suspect, a "bad man", as she put it. Yet when I questioned her, she simply answered, "I think love is when you wanna be close with someone and do things together! And you have their back when they're in a sticky situation, because they're gonna have yours."
By that naive logic… I'd be in love with a lot of people.
And yet if I resist the urge to reject that notion with snark and skepticism, if I suspend my disbelief for just a moment, that must be the most comforting answer I've received thus far.
Despite the fact I'd likely never say it forthright, I miss Arle's sharp wit whenever I'm teleported to some strange new dimension all on my own. If she were in a perilous situation and I was aware of it, of course I would make myself useful! …And perhaps I still threaten to seize her power for my own from time to time, but after all my attempts, I'm fully aware it's futile.
And I wouldn't dare say it to his face, or anyone's for that matter, but casually conversing with Lemres as he mixes this and that ingredient and orders me about is actually quite relaxing. I've not known him for nearly as long as Arle, and I occasionally grow wary of his secrecy… But we've cooperated enough times for me to be confident that I'd aid him if necessary.
I'd rather not incur Rulue's mocking laughter, but a portion of me hopes she knows that I enjoy our time spent training together, and the diverse conversations we often share afterward. She definitely knows that I'd offer my strength if needed… Unlikely as it is that she would. Besides, I obviously care for her at least somewhat if I subject myself to her ramblings on about Satan.
Even Witch, a person who revels in tormenting me to no end… Things simply wouldn't be the same if she wasn't around to remind me not to take life so seriously every single second of the day. Typically when we must collaborate, our objectives go hand in hand anyway. Of course I wouldn't let her down if she needed my assistance, because she's my…
Friend?
Friends?
I… I suppose that's a step in the right direction, as far from my answer as I am.
Hm. I believe Lemres mentioned to me some time ago how that girl's name, Amitie, translates to "friendship" in French. A largely obsolete language outside of spellcasting. His primary spells originate from that same language, hence how he obtained such obscure knowledge. Now, I believe it's a fitting name for her. She helped me get off* in a way I couldn't expect from such a young girl.
*I meant "helped me get this off my chest." Oh, curse this fatuous pen.
Perhaps it's unnecessary for me to understand love at this moment. At least, in the romantic sense. Absolutely not in the sexual sense, not right now.
Besides… It's been too long since I've visited my 'friends' proper, aside from Lemres. I may go check on Arle. I must stay aware, in case that foolish prince tries anything again… and I could always use an excuse to indulge in some cafe au lait.
And then I'll return to my cave and set fire to this entire book before I can reread this and find any more strokes* of the hand.
*SLIPS. NOT STROKES. FOR THE LOVE OF