Zero's Voice - Peyton Zarr (Vallivue High School, Tenth Grade)
I always felt as if something was missing.
I am happy, I am the prince of the kingdom, how could I not be happy?
But for some odd reason, I had always felt like I was missing part of my soul. Something should be there, a missing puzzle piece that I would never find.
Sometimes, I’ll see certain things that make me hear things. I hear a voice- sometimes it isn’t even mine. And the voice that is mine… is almost too monotone for it to truly be me.
Simple things like the number eleven send me spiraling, and I don’t even know why.
When my father had been alive, he had woken me up for my eleventh birthday. “Happy eleventh birthday, son!” He’d exclaimed, and I had stared at him for a whole minute. He’d thought it was out of confusion- that I was thinking. But my head had been screaming words that didn’t make sense to me.
And now, staring at my father’s grave, the date taunts me. The eleventh of november.
You’re not a monster, Varden.
But I am. You don’t know what I’ve done.
If you’re a monster, what would that make me?
You’re not a monster! You’re just-
That means that you aren’t. I’ve done far worse than you.
I- but-
Not a monster.
“Varden?”
I looked behind me as I heard my name being called, called by a voice that wasn’t in my head.
My older brother, my twin, and the kingdom’s current king was walking toward me.
Me and my brother looked almost exactly the same, and we would be able to trick others if it wasn’t for our hair and his scars. While he had short, nicely styled black hair, my black hair was long and usually braided. Our eyes were the same, a vibrant green. He had a long scar over his nose, one that didn’t ruin his face but made it known he could fight.
If it wasn’t for the crown on his head, I would’ve been brought back to better times. To before my father had been killed in battle, before my mother had ended her life in her sorrow. Before my brother was changed by the duties of a king.
“Arne?” I respond, straightening my posture as I wait for him to speak.
Arne stopped a few feet in front of me, eyes scanning my face for any signs of nervousness. He was always paranoid of a traitor.
“There is a special guest on his way. I want you to be there for it.” He said, his voice monotone. Almost as blank as the version of me I hear in my head.
This was an odd request. He never wanted me there for guests. I was.. ‘Too quiet for guests to like me’. His words, not mine.
“If you don’t mind me asking, who is the guest?” I tilt my head slightly, making sure my confusion was obvious. Every emotion should be put out there for him to see, that was what he’d requested.
“Zero.” Arne begins to turn around. “Be prepared by noon. He will be here around then.”
Zero. Zero, the immortal god. The one who appeared every now and then at random.
I was going to meet Zero.
According to legend, he had been around for a few thousand years. Maybe even longer, but he hadn’t revealed himself until then. He was powerful, he could do anything and everything.
I had a feeling that last bit was a lie, but that was what the books in the library always said.
I watch Arne leave, and something in my mind is trying to tell me something. What it wanted to say was unknown to me, and it made me nervous. Something about seeing Zero made me excited, far more excited than I’d been in years.
It was probably just because he was our god.
It had to be.
I look back at my father’s grave, eyes trailing over the date again.
Please, please you can’t go, god- please don’t leave me!
The voice wasn’t mine. It sounded panicked, horrified and anguished. It dropped down to a whisper, now muffled.
This isn’t funny.. Please, talk to me. Varden?
I pause as the voice says my name. But this was different, somehow. I was about to look away from the number, walk away and ignore this, but then it spoke again. The voice was horribly sad, and it was clear they were crying.
I love you, Varden.
I tore my eyes away from the grave, and I started walking back inside. I tried to shove the voice into the back of my mind, but I knew that I’d heard it before. I’d heard it often, normally it sounded cheery and always making jokes. Sometimes, it was sweet. Sometimes, though rarely, it was angry. It had never sounded like that.
So I walk into the palace, glancing at the clock. An hour before noon.
The hour went by slowly, and all I did was walk through the halls. I needed a distraction, and exploring the palace- though I had done this many times before- always proved to be a good one.
And when I found myself standing beside my brother’s throne, standing among many others and waiting for the doors to open, my brain was calm for the first time today.
The doors began to open, the guards pushing it all the way open.
And there he was, Zero
He was tall, with long hair and elf-like ears. There was a number tattooed over his face, overlapping his features. But his six eyes landed on me, and they immediately widened.
Zero seemed oddly familiar to me. And, with the way he was looking at me, I was familiar to him, too.
“Varden?” He asked, and my world dropped out beneath me.
He was that voice.
Zero was the voice.