Isn’t it great to die? To feel yourself curl, the darkest of thoughts revealed through the that vile mask you wear? That how Mako felt. Well,he wasn’t exactly dead. But as he saw his village fade from view, the water burned with hatred,his untrained and untamed skill not restraining the water, his eyes burning with venom,and tears.
The captain of the boat of which he was forced upon would not harbor his presence for very long. He would stow away on many boats,his skills keeping him alive.
But his thoughts were as grim as the murky depths beneath him. His loss,his grief,his guilt,it boiled inside of him. Many nights and many days would go by,and his existence unknown. That was,until,he was discovered. He would be beaten,stabbed,and strung up onto the front of the ship. Then he snapped. The more than three quarters of the crew would disappear,their, their bodies,gone. After Mako arised from his fury,he regretted everything. He had killed without mercy, his deepest and darkest emotions eclipsing his mind and reasoning. How could he have done this? It all could have been avoided. It was a fate unneeded. He had turned,his thoughts morbid. He thought about the sea god,and what would they have wanted him to do? What about his family? To many,he was a pale skinned killer. It was an Unneeded Fate. The tsunami burst,as he was thrown to the tides of depression. There was no lighthouse. No course to chart. He would be here. Stuck in the black tides, of the ocean.
Stuck with his own vile thoughts,and his fragile mask to hide it all.