"You're pathetic."
The silence that had filled the soulscape returned again with Quinn's words. Both Quinns stared at each other— one impassive, other rigid with fury growing on his face.
"What did you just say?"
"Is there something wrong with your hearing; sheesh, I'm not old enough to have hearing problems."
"You-you. . . !" the light around Violet-Quinn started to flare dangerously. He clenched his fist tight enough that they trembled with deep anger.
"I was dethroned, you say," Quinn didn't let up and continued his assault. "And you were put on the top? Really? I mean, you look like a splendid guy, but your behavior, on the other hand. . ."
"What about it?" asked Violet-Quinn with an edge.
". . . just a bit immature," Quinn shrugged.
The expression that came on Violet-Quinn's face was one that Quinn was sure that he had never made. He looked like he was about to burst into flames of fury, and violet hue was fluctuating wildly— Quinn had been hurt, but never like this.
"Immature. . . I?" said Violet-Quinn, his voice laced with a warning. "Take that back."
"Why would I?" Quinn didn't wait for a second to throw his reply. "Just this morning, you raced against Eddie, and you know that Eddie naturally runs faster than us, which showed when he was ahead of us during most of the run, but then what you do?" Quinn continued mockingly, "You used body magic to gain an edge, and if it was just that, I could've excused it as a necessary action to stop Eddie's annoying victory celebration and him holding it over us for eternity— but you went on throttling to the full, crossed the body's limit and, . . . left him in the dust."
Quinn moved close to his violet counterpart and whispered, "That was the pettiest, most immature thing I have ever seen, and it cripplingly cringing and embarrassing that it was ME who did it. It was absolutely disgusting."
He leaned away and watched as a shadow appeared over the eyes of the apparition of the Sin curse. Everything from Violet-Quinn's tone, words, to the colored glow, Quinn had made an educated guess about what the figure in front of him represented.
"So what," said Violet-Quinn, raising his head with a smirk. "I can do whatever I want, and if my actions seem juvenile is more of 'you' fault than a 'me' fault. I don't see where it is my fault."
The violent oscillating flickering of glow stopped, and Violet-Quinn stared down at Quinn with a raised chin and looked ghastly like a certain pureblood family, who consider themselves superior to others.
"That answer is what I'd expect from someone like you," said Quinn, sighing. "You're after all my pride, my hubris, my vanity."
It wasn't instant, but a few clicks of clock's worth of time before a grin split Violet-Quinn's face, and he started laughing— it was a peal of belly laughter than Quinn himself had only let out on rare occasions of celebration and achievement, but from Violet-Quinn's mouth it sounded heavy and overbearing.
"I am NOT yours in any form, Quinn," said Violet-Quinn, sneering at the name. "I am superior to you, I surpass you in every form, I am simply better— you're beneath me, making me something larger than your worthless. . . self. . . . why do you look at me like that."
Violet-Quinn stopped laughing and boasting when he saw the expression of pity on Quinn's face, his smile turning into a frown at the unexpected expression.
"I feel sorry for you."
". . . What?"
"You're clearly a result of my pride being amplified due to the Sin curse," said Quinn shaking his head. "When you think of the word pride, does it strike you as positive or negative? Pride is an emotion that can be both nurturing or poisonous. It's okay to feel proud when you accomplish something great: It's good to 'take pride in our work.' People like it when someone tells us, 'I'm proud of you.' All of these expressions communicate a positive kind of pride: dignity, respect, and honor, traits that we all can embrace. Feeling proud tastes delicious?—?it inspires positive behavior. Being proud, however, is a different thing?—?it can make one come across as arrogant and self-centered.
Aristotle described pride as the 'crown of the virtues.' For the Greek philosopher, pride implied greatness. He considered a proud person as someone who is and thinks to be worthy of great things. And I agreed with his thoughts— I have done great things as such it was natural for me to hold pride.
To think we are worthy of great things when we are not. . . is vanity. Whereas to think of oneself worthy of less than we are worthy of. . . is cowardice. But because I felt I was truly great, and thus neither vain nor cowardly."
Quinn looked sorry as he continued, "But I had thought about this a lot, and if I look at it, I haven't done anything of exception, have I?"
Violet-Quinn's eyes widened as the final words left Quinn's mouth.
"What have I done in my time here in this world that is truly something of my own? Have I accomplished something genuinely great?" said Quinn in askance. "This body wasn't mine but belonged to the child; I should be grateful to him and his parents for it and the magic that it came with. Speaking of magic. I pride myself on possessing more magic than anyone I have ever met, but anyone in my position, having adult-like consciousness since age four, knowing the future ahead, could've accomplished what I have— it's nothing special, and comparing myself to others, who didn't have my circumstances is clearly something I should be proud about. Even my wandless capabilities result from my circumstances of starting to learn magic at an extremely early age.
My knowledge? Is it something I should boast? No, the only reason I had access to so much wisdom in the first place was that grandfather indulged my requests and used the fortune that HE had to provide me with whatever I wanted; I should be grateful to him for where I stand today. After all, without him, I would be nowhere near I'm today. Even the more esoteric knowledge I have comes from the Room of Requirement. I have been standing on the shoulders of giants, who had genuinely contributed to furthering the world of magic.
My Inventions? I should be proud of them; after all, I made them from scratch, and didn't they push a revolutionary change in how magicals live. But did I really? Yes, I made them, but not once in all my years have I used something in my inventions that truly were my own. Everything was already invented, and I just put them together using the inspiration that I knew from my memories or what I saw somewhere else. If someone had my vision, anyone of enough competence would be able to create what I did. So do I take pride in my work? Yes. Should I be proud? No. Was I proud? Unfortunately, yes.
The Cursed Vaults? Something I had devoted a lot of my life to. Yes, I have far beyond what anyone before had, and that's a matter of pride. But did I ever you stop to think who was my competition— children of my age, who didn't have the time I had for preparing their magic, who probably didn't have the resources I had, and nor the maturity to work on magic as I did. If someone of my level gave the Cursed Vaults, who knows what would've been the result— there's a chance they would be better than me.
My initiative to deal with the Horcrux is honorable, and when I began dealing with the soul anchors, I didn't think of it as something to be proud of; I was doing something any decent would do— given that I know I'm not really a decent person. But recently, my thoughts had turned to something of doing everyone in this country a favor by getting rid of the Dark Lord's life saves. Yeah. . . something I never thought I would end up feeling, but it seems my self-arrogance was something that I had played down for myself."
Quinn's smile and eyes were dripping with pity as he stared at Violet-Quinn. "I don't know when, but my authentic pride— the feeling of confidence and competence about who I was— turned into hubristic pride, letting egocentrism and arrogance take over. The latter encourages aggressive behavior; the first, affiliation.
And the already worsening situation turned into a toxic one when I let the Sin curse which gave birth to you. It is my fault that you had come to existence, that if I had introspected, maybe you would've not been born. . . so, from the bottom of my heart, I apologize. Forgive me."
Violet-Quinn stared at Quinn, his eyes blown wide. With every word coming out of Quinn's mouth, Violet-Quinn got more and more somber and silent, more and more shadows appearing on his face, the glow around his body flickered, jumped, receded haphazardously without any pattern. But when, at the end, Quinn apologized, his demeanor changed to one of life-changing shock as if he had been struck by lightning.
". . . What nonsense you're talking about," said Violet-Quinn. "I don't have to care about any of that gibberish because I'm better than everyone else."
"No, you're not," Quinn said shortly. "They're many who are better than us."
"I am! Who has more magic than me!"
"That's only because of me working hard on it."
"If it wasn't for the curse, you wouldn't have the amount of magic."
"True, but that's doesn't have anything to do with you. You're a byproduct of the curse, not the curse itself."
"Shut up! I destroyed the runes you set up in the morning with ease."
"That's because the memory of me setting them up remains in my head and the magical focus I have built from my hard work."
"Shut up! Shut up! I can achieve more than you, much more than you! I'm not a coward who worries about small things that don't matter."
Quinn sighed, "Everything you do matters. The smallest action can turn into consequences of the highest effects. Ignoring them because you think they're beneath you is poor outlook."
"I. AM. BETTER. THAN. YOU."
"That is true," said Quinn, and Violet-Quinn's rage faltered as his momentum came to a halt. "Your outlook on life and how you do deal with things would indeed be better in various situations; you'd be able to make decisions quicker, charge ahead without getting stuck in thinking, and because you're still me and have that twisted pride, you wouldn't allow yourself stop growing to remain better than everyone else," he smiled, "you're indeed better than me."
He stepped closer and placed a hand on Violet-Quinn's shoulder. "I understand; I truly do."
". . . You're a hypocrite," said Violet-Quinn, his voice now weak. "You only care about all of this shit when you have your ass on the line."
"I know. . . I have to work on it."
Violet-Quinn stared at Quinn as his body started to turn into a violet solid, slowly breaking into pieces that dissipated into nothingness. For his final words, he said,
"I hope Greed ruins you and you rot in hell."
Quinn lowered his hand and gazed at where the twisted personification of his pride stood. He had to treat it as a real entity because, at some level, it was just that.
"Ah, that sucked," he sighed, looking up. Just saying all of those things wouldn't have worked, Quinn realized that and knew that if he didn't mean what he said, the pride-personification would've realized it, and the effect would've been the complete opposite. But confronting himself and all of that wasn't pleasant.
After wallowing in his thoughts, Quinn looked at the infected soul, and if it wasn't his imagination, the ominous glow had dulled. He glanced around, but there was no sight of another personification nor any indication of arrival time.
He floated to the infected soul and sat down beside it.
One was done; six more were to go.
The silence returned to the dark soulscape.
.
-*-*-*-*-*-
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Quinn West - MC - At least I can laugh at myself.
Violet-Quinn - Pride - I hate you.
FictionOnlyReader - Author - Had to research a lot on what's the deal with Pride. Let's hope there's enough research material on other Sins.
NOT ALL SIN CHAPTERS ARE GOING TO BE LIKE THIS. They're going to be weaved into the plot that's going on outside.
