The Self, Reversed

Mannaz.  The Self.  Reversed.

Of course it would be reversed.  The world had been upended; how could he remain unaffected?  The rune indicated that the enemy he had identified without was merely a pale reflection of the enemy inside.  Change was required to move forward.  To grow.

But to grow what?  Mannaz was just a reminder of a question for which he had never found an answer: Who was he?  How to even respond?  A name, even one he chose, only identified him.  His skills?  Many others had similar abilities, at least until recently.  His actions?  Were those what he wanted to define who he was?  If so, he would be unable to like himself.

What else was there, however?  His ideals?  If his actions did not reflect those principles, then how could they truly be his ideals?  And yet, he wanted to believe – needed to believe – that he was more than what he had done.

Were those actions, and whatever principles they reflected, the enemy within?  If so, what was left that was him, that was not the enemy?  There must be something more.  But what could it be?

Maybe it was enough for now to recognize the enemy he had let in.  Changing that – opposing it – was a tremendous task.  There would be time after to determine who he was.  At least, he hoped there would be time.  For now, there was work to be done, both inside and out.  The question of who he was would have to wait.  But not forever.

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