Change of Heart

By Chronic Guardian

Once, there were two young boys who lived by a single principle: When anything is obtained, something must also be given. They endured horrible things in life by clinging to this in the hopes that they would one day be granted a renewed life for their struggles. But in order to be restored, a situation beyond price, something else beyond price also had to be given. After all, the world they lived in was made of a balance they had perpetrated, and one they would have to pay.

"At last..." My plans were coming to fruition. My blood began to mingle with the prince's, tainting his heart. We were connected now, more than ever. We had once shared a story, but now we were bonded to its very end. Unless one of us died, he would remain in my power. What I did not expect was that I would become subject to his.

It started as a small trickle of light, like a light rain after a long drought; thoughts began to form as they had not before. I questioned what had seemed arbitrary. Given the circumstances, most of it was. Drosselmeyer held the strings, thus I was the villain and whatever darkness was needed for this tale I would readily provide.

But why? Why hate life? I longed for beauty, I hungered for it. But would consuming it satisfy me? Or would it only sate jealousy? Would it only dull the nagging pain that that role was never meant for me? That I was doomed to act as a bringer of destruction and sorrow?

True, I hated the people. I suppose that was bred into me when Drosselmeyer wrote me out. Monsters are senseless, they don't require a reason to delight in pain. I was the Monster Raven, the king of the murder, death was second nature.

But why? I could not bring myself to love even she who I demanded love me. She whose fate I had twisted and mind I had warped. The prince had the adoration of the world without even trying. I was starved for affection. It didn't seem like it had a toll in the beginning, but when I first caught sight of Rue I knew that I wanted something, someone, to hold onto. Or maybe I just wanted something else to control.

I can see now that Drosselmeyer's writing has restricted my mental capacities beyond repair. I can now see what I want, but no way of getting there. All my existence, I have taken the beauty of life from others, cackling all the while; cackling mad because now they would share in my world.

But making them the same as me did not satisfy. Bringing them my hatred and misery did not end it. It could not work the other way either, I simply could not become one of them. Such was beyond the grasp of a monster.

So there I stand, perched on the edge of consciousness. I can see what I am, but not what I can become. Siegfried's curiosity is driving me to insanity. Isn't there more to a heart than this? I suppose it was my fault he shattered it in the first place... Even as a shadow of its former self though, the Prince's heart was not rejecting the flow; he was sending right back to me a piece of himself just as I had put a piece of myself into him. Oh, the bitter irony. Which of us will win though? His shattered heart against my addled one. For the first time in my existence, I want him to win. I want the Prince that I have hated for so long to end this darkness. I want the old Siegfried back.

There is one character in this story that can accomplish that task: That girl that Drosselmeyer drew into the story. They say that the heart shards are attracted to dispositions similar to themselves. She is the piece he needs: the hope that good will endure.

In order for him to win, must I die? For dawn to break, will I have to fall with the night? For even a glimpse of that sunrise, perhaps I would pay the price. If only for the story to end, and Drosselmeyer be proven wrong.

As the villain of a tragedy I will defy my fate, and not prevail.

A/N: Yes, the opening is a direct Fullmetal Alchemist reference/synopsis. I'll admit, the connection is slightly vague, but so were all the opening tales of Princess Tutu. Want an explanation? You can always message me. I also understand the group that understands both these things is likely rather small; but since my little sister is insanely fanatic about Tutu, I thought I'd write a story, just for her. Here's to you, Fahiru.