Work Text:
I have often wondered if Kain ever really knew what he was doing.
I still cannot decide.
When I was younger, I used to think him infallible. Of course, he knew what he was doing; he was our Lord and surely he knew everything. I couldn’t think even for a moment that he did not know every little detail of every little thing in existence. He even knew my thoughts before I did.
Even as I grew older and started to question him, I still believed deep down that he knew truth and any genuine disagreement on my part was only to bring me closer to that truth, to encourage him to share it with me.
I know now that he was just very good at reading things, people, situations and me. Especially me.
Shortly before my ‘death’ I found the courage to ask him how he always seemed to know what was right. He had laughed at me and it was unusual. That he was laughing at me was not odd. He did it quite a lot, at least once or twice a night. But it was the manner in which he laughed this time that was odd to me. It was sad almost, and he had looked as if he would speak, like he wanted to tell me something, but he kept his silence.
A week after that conversation, I entered the change and when I woke; I was cast into the abyss.
When I followed him into the chronoplast, I still believed that every move he made was deliberate. Everything he did, he did with purpose, with a simple goal in mind. He had a plan. He spoke with such conviction that I could not think otherwise. I believed he knew every encounter we would have, and he had step-by-step knowledge of how it would proceed.
But it occurs to me now, thinking back, rewatching my own memories, that the bastard didn’t have a bloody clue.
He was just as clueless as me, he just hid it better.
He knew where we would meet because he pushed me into those places or followed me to them. He had no bloody clue what would happen next, for if he had then why take such ridiculous chances, why wager his life on my willpower? Why wager my life on his expectations of temporal distortion? That bastard risked everything and only had a vague idea of what was going on. In the end, I think I knew more than he did.
But everything has turned out the way he wanted.
That could be no accident. Could it really be just luck?
He is an absolute bastard, yet I cannot help but hope that his luck holds.