Ludwig's Insanity
From Goggleheadarchive
Ludwig Alberich, the name itself means “Holy King”. The name alone is the name of a lie! Nothing about the personality that is Ludwig is Holy or Kingly! Ludwig Alberich represents everything that is unholy and impure in this world! A person who simply lets the happenings of the world go on without a care, hiding behind his habits and his simple life! The man Ludwig thinks to himself as he enters his chambers through the secret entrance. Dealing with all of those impure on a daily basis, one would think this is a Divine Punishment in itself! He continues to think as he allows himself to hunch over slightly, his smile quickly turned into a frown.
Taking a moment to look toward the mirror, his frown changes into a scowl at what he sees. With a glare as cold as death, the man marches toward his reflection. This... This visage! This visage is like just like them! I am nothing like them! Ludwig thinks more, his fist clenching tightly. How it smiles so happily, without a care in the world... he is not worthy of his heavenly name, for he is like the devil himself! The once mellow bartender thinks with a snarl, while slamming his fist into the face of the mirror on the wall.
Watching the shards fall free from it with the blood on his hand, Ludwig’s snarling frown turns into a demented grin as he unclenches the blood covered hand. “T-That’s it...! I’ll... I’ll just remove the devil from my face!” Ludwig mutters with his heavy accent, staring toward the blood pouring from his palm. “Like this!” he screams out, his hand gripping hold of the flesh around the right eye, forehead and cheek as he backs up. The fingers around his forehead move to try and tear at the flesh, while the blood from his hand trails down to his lips and into his mouth.
Tripping over his own feet, he stumbles into his table, his free arm coming around and knocking over the chess pieces situated on the board. Lowering his hand, he looks through both eyes toward the pieces. With his face stained with his blood and his sweat, Ludwig brings his blood stained hand toward the chess board, only to stop. No... These hands with this face... are not worthy to touch this holy field! He thinks, backing away from the table and noticing a loose shard of glass resting on the ground.
Kneeling down in front of it, Ludwig tenderly takes the shard of the mirror into his hand and brings it gingerly to his cheek. “...I’ll be rid of you, some way, Ludwig Alberich, a demon within the shell of a holy king...” the man murmurs, trailing the tip of the glass across his skin. “Slowly, slowly, righteous judgment cannot be delivered for your lies without tormenting you...” he whispers, preparing to dig in with the weapon.
“My liege, is everything alright!?” the voice of a soldier, most likely a peon calls out from outside the room. “We heard screaming coming from here.”
'R... right... I am Balthasar...' the man thinks to himself, coming to his senses and throwing the shard of glass aside. Crawling quietly across the floor toward his mask, Ludwig looks toward it almost longingly for a moment before sliding it over his blood covered face. “I am fine. I just broke a mirror. I’ll order someone to replace it later.” The man says in a commanding tone, any trace of his accent gone.
“Balthasar... King of the Magi.” The man Balthasar says, moving to his feet and over to a set of robes. “That other face is merely a disguise, and as much as I hate it thoroughly...” he starts to reason, changing quickly into the robes of the King of the Magi.
“It is a necessary evil... an Evil that the Star of Kings wishes for me to carry in the purification. It falls within the thin line between martyr and murderer.” Balthasar continues, walking over to the chessboard and starting to fix the pieces into their former position, blood dripping slowly from his gloved right hand when it came to moving the white king, staining it in red.
Taking a moment to stare at the bloodstained king, Balthasar grins brightly from under his mask and gives off a loud laugh. “Yes! I am The King of the Magi, Balthasar! I am the man who’s tale of martyrdom rivals none other aside from the original king of the world himself!”
Finishing up the pieces, Balthasar leaves the king with the blood on his crown in its place, allowing the blood to dry as he starts to leave the room. “Bring all your impurities and I will purify you, in the name of the Heavenly Waters and the Divine One... just as we will purify the world. Reverto out Sanctimonum per Astrum of Rex rgis! All hail, the Organization of the Magi!”
