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He sat blankly in the courtyard of the monastery.
He was tormented of visions of the future, and the past.
When his friends needed him most he had been consumed by this higher power, he hated it oh how he hated it.
He couldn’t stand it anymore, he told Nya he would always stay strong but he couldn’t anymore, there was nothing left for him.
All he is is a useless pile or trash.
He was outdated, he didn’t belong here anymore.
He had failed them, Wu would have never failed them like this, so here he was now looking for a purpose, something worthy living for.
He looked to the dragons, to the first master, yet there was nothing.
There was no answer.
Destiny was once again playing him a fool, making him look stupid, it was cruel.
And soon this power he has been gifted would control him, it would take over his mind like a puppet, what a sick joke.
So now here he sat, a knife in his hand.
He didn’t know if he’d be able to go through with it.
But he knew he had to, he couldn’t keep living knowing his students lived had been taken and he had done nothing to protect them.
He took a piece of crumpled paper out, and he wrote, he wrote how he had failed, he wrote how horrible he was, how great his friends had been and how he had never reconnected with his father, he wrote how his past haunted him in a way he could never escape.
So now with a knife in his hand he knew what to do.
He took it and closed his eyes.
He did it.
He tried to.
He always tried to.
When he opened his eyes blood gushed out of his chest, yet there was no pain.
He looked up to meet his grandfather.
“Oh grandfather I-“
“Your time isn’t over yet Lloyd.”
He looked at the first master in shock.
“What?”
“I’m sorry grandson.”
He blinked and he was back in the same courtyard.
“No no no!” He screamed as the knife clattered to the side behind him.
“You can’t do this you can’t! I’ve lost everything you can’t keep me alive anymore only to suffer how cruel are you!”
It started to thunder and rain, the water stuck to his clothes till he was drenched.
He wanted to go inside but he forced himself to stay out there.
He looked down at the note, picked up the knife and dragged it over the soggy note splitting it in half, when it didn’t work to well he resorted to picking it up with his hands and tearing it to pieces as he sobbed.
It wasn’t fair why couldn’t it be fair.
Why did he still have purpose when his friends didn’t.
Why was he forced to stay alive when they weren’t given the option to.
He looked down at his bloody torn hands and got to his feet clutching his stomach.
The first master was right.
He didn’t deserve to escape yet.
That would be to easy.
He never had it easy.
So he walked inside and dried off, he sat down as he felt numb.
He deserved this, he deserved this suffering because he couldn’t save them.
He never could.
It was about time he learnt that.