Post by Deleted on Oct 12, 2015 1:20:58 GMT
Rain. Heavy rain. It was downright pouring. Dumah found himself walking through an unfamiliar street in the middle of the night in a heavy downpour. Where in the world was he? He looked at some of the surrounding buildings in an attempt to get an understanding of where exactly he was. It was odd, these buildings looked clean, refined, and modern. Was this some sort of event? Dumah continued to walk around until he came across a large building; judging by the interior, it was a hospital. He looked in through the glass doors leading in, and noticed his reflection. He looked different; this was not Dumah Iino, but Nordin Reecendo.
"No, wait... I died..." He chuckled a bit grimly. It seemed so weird to admit your own death like this. Dumah laughed at the events that were playing out, falling to his knees, sulking as he began to shed a few tears, which blended in perfectly with the rain drops that had fallen upon his face. After a few moments he looked back at his faint reflection in the glass, opening his mouth and gently tugging on his tongue. He laughed a bit more as he saw it; it was pink. Pure pink. Nothing but pink. He was human, something he had not been able to claim in months since the Apocalypse. Oh yeah, Elder Tale and the Apocalypse. "I suppose I am not exactly 'dead,' per se. I must have fallen in battle and now I am here, between death and rebirth. I suppose all I can do is wait then."
Dumah quickly grew bored of simply sitting around as he waited to awaken in the Londinium Cathedral, and stood up, walking into the hospital. "I remember this place... Though, for the life of me I cannot remember the name of the hospital itself..." Dumah had no idea where he was walking, but it felt less like he was in control of his destination, as though he were being beckoned one way by some peculiar force that could not be explained, as though fate and causality itself were taking a more active role in Dumah's purgatory. After a few minutes of walking the halls, Dumah came across a site he would come to regret finding. He saw one of the rooms open, and walked in to see a sick patient.
Dumah's eyes went wide as he saw before him a moment in his history that he could never forget. The man nearly collapsed, saving himself by grabbing onto the door frame before he could hit the ground. "This is a dream... This is a dream... This, is, a dream...!" Dumah repeatedly chanted this line, reassuring himself that none of this before him was real. Nevertheless, he was shaking; trembling in a maelstrom of emotions. He looked at his hand, shaking as though he experienced a fear one could not describe, akin to waking from a nightmare in the middle of the night only to immediately forget what monster thrust you from the comfort of your slumber. He grabbed his right hand with his left hand and noticed a ring comfortable surrounding the base of his fourth finger. He quickly took it off and looked at the inside of it, reading the inscription. It was nothing fancy, merely a string of eight numbers: "12 - 28 - 2016" He slid the ring back on his finger, and slowly lifted his gaze to a woman in the room, standing by the hospital bed.
The emotions Dumah felt as he beheld this woman were impossible to define. He slowly stood up, his legs still a bit weak as he walked over and examined her in detail. Beautiful long orange hair that flowed down to her back; deep, clear blue eyes with a mesmerizing sparkle in them; a soft face; a beautiful, thin body. Tears came to Dumah's eyes once again, though he was not sure whether they were of joy or sorrow. Whether it were due to the joy of seeing his beloved wife once again after so long, or due to the sorrow of knowing he could not stay with her. "Isabelle..."
He looked down at the hospital bed, seeing a young, sick child. It was none other than his daughter, Zyoto. He knelt down to the bedside and held her hand firmly in his own. He remembered this day: Zyoto had come down with a serious illness and Dumah was forced to leave the opening night of one of his own plays to take her to the hospital. Seeing his own daughter, his own flesh and blood, once again in such pain made Dumah sick to his stomach. Tears flooded his eyes as he gently rubbed his daughter's head lovingly. He smiled, choking on his own sorrow as he leaned in to kiss her forehead. Some time passed in silence; Dumah was happy simply to see his family again.
He contemplated the situation at hand, and was left wondering: Why this memory? Dumah hated and loathed this memory; he always looked back on it with a feeling of guilt and remorse. Perhaps the world was cruel, making its biggest attempt to destroy Dumah's spirit and make him feel pitiful.
Dumah turned his head a bit, gazing out the window as it was bombarded with droplets of rain. Dumah spoke to himself in a soft voice. "I see... So this is death: a hell that brings you to your knees, until you beg for death..." Dumah thought of his guild, his friends, all the people who supported him in any endeavor he undertook in this world. He recalled how he had died, having sacrificed himself to save a member of his guild from being killed. Dumah was a leader, and as such, he believed it was his responsibility to protect all who followed and supported him, no matter the cost. After a moment, Dumah realized why he had found himself in this specific memory.
"No, I did not sacrifice myself for the sole purpose of protecting my guild members. That is little more than an excuse... I see now, I was afraid of failing someone, of letting people down. That is why I awoke in this specific memory. I recall it was opening night for one of my plays. I had been slaving over it for so long, and it was finally time to present my work. So many people had shown up, and I was trembling in fear. 'What if it is awful?' 'They might not understand it.' Such thoughts plagued my mind, and I was horrified, so afraid I could not bear to stay and see the reactions of the audience. When I heard Zyoto had fallen terribly ill, I felt like I was saved, it was the perfect opportunity to escape. I cannot believe myself... She is my daughter, if she fell ill I should have been worried for her, not worried for myself... I claim to be selfless and willing to do anything to protect my friends, but I am just a coward... The forming of the Boston Tea Party... My refusal to fight Adolf's party during the ring dispute... I was afraid of failure, each and every time... I should have come to terms with this, I should understand failure is a perfectly normal part of life, but when so many people look up to you and rely on you, it becomes much harder to accept your failures. You cannot rise until you learn to fall, they say." Dumah returned his attention to his daughter, who was now looking right at him. He smiled softly. "Ah, yes, I have to leave, do I not?" A few tears flowed down Dumah's smiling face. "I have to stand back up on my own two feet and learn to continue, even when I fail."
Dumah planted a sweet kiss upon his daughter's forehead once again before standing up and finding himself in a new area, one he had never seen in either of his two lives; not as Nordin, nor as Dumah. This place was beautiful, with a dark sky dotted with sparkling dots, sand for countless kilometers on one side, and a sparkling, almost magical sea on the other side. The sparks that dotted the sky fell softly to the ground, like shining snowflakes. Dumah looked around more, intrigued by this place. Without a doubt, the most peculiar thing Dumah spotted was the Earth itself, floating off in the distance. "What in the hell...? Where is this place...?" Dumah looked at himself and noticed he was now once again in the body of Dumah Iino. Taking this as a sign of being in the game, he tried to open his menu to see the zone info. He tapped at the air, and a menu popped up. "Mare Tranquillitatis... The Sea of Tranquility... Why is it in Latin of all languages...?" The rest of the zone information was nothing more than a mess of punctuation marks and assorted Greek lettering. "So much for discerning my location..." Dumah had never heard of a place such as this, and he was almost certain a beautiful and peculiar zone such as this would at least spawn a few discussions in the taverns or city forum.
Dumah tore his gaze from the distant earth as he spotted a figure in his peripheral vision. The figure was that of a man in nice clothing, with a soft, handsome face and long silver hair. He walked his his hands behind his back, his right wrist in his left hand's grip. The man stopped walking as he reached Dumah, and stood beside him, gazing at the earth as well. The man gave off a calm mood, one Dumah rarely got to behold. "Well, if it isn't Mr. Iino himself... I will admit, I never expected to encounter you of all people here."
Dumah was a bit tense at first, used to the man's presence being an ill omen for Dumah, but after the man spoke, Dumah calmed down. He returned his gaze from the silver haired man to the earth; "Hello, Adolf. Where are we?"
"Welcome to death, I assume you've heard the tales of what happens here? Of the price for resurrection, and for our immortality?"
"I have heard numerous stories, though the most common report claims that a single memory is taken."
Adolf nodded. "I have been here countless times myself, I have started to question why this game seems to have it out for me."
"Perhaps it is karma, finally catching up to you."
"Please, spare me such tasteless jokes, Dumah. You and I both know you are no fatalist."
"So how did you die?"
"Protecting someone I cared about, surely you of all people must be able to relate to such a thing, Dumah. Tell me: how did you yourself die?"
Dumah smiled and chuckled. "I died a coward."
"I meant what got you killed. Don't you dare answer with 'cowardice,' Dumah."
"I too was protecting someone I cared about."
"That doesn't sound very cowardly to me."
Dumah laughed, surprised by Adolf's words. "Are you complimenting me?"
Adolf gently punched Dumah's shoulder. "Take it as you will, 'hero.'"
They shared a laugh together for a moment before Dumah spoke up. "I am no hero, Adolf."
"You risked your life to save another, just take the god damn compliment."
They spent a few moments in silence. Dumah thought back to his wife and daughter, and smiled. "You are wrong, Adolf."
"Oh yeah, about what?"
"You once told me that the people in the old world may as well be dead. I just got to see my wife and daughter moments ago, and I can positively say you are wrong. They are not the ones who are dead, but we are. Zyoto is still out there with Isabelle, she will grow up, she will find love, she will find purpose in her own life. She will keep on living."
After a moment, Dumah began to give off a glow. As though it were a physical entity, the glow shattered, and its fragments all drifted up into the dark sky. The same then happened to Adolf, and Dumah felt a bit weak from the spectacle, falling to a kneel. Adolf laughed. "I reacted in that same manner my first time I was here. You get used to it." Adolf extended his hand, helping Dumah stand again.
Dumah looked up at the countless sparks floating through the sky. "These must be the memories everyone has lost in order to return, are they not?"
Adolf nodded, standing with his arms crossed. "Yeah, all of the lost pieces of personal history paid to continue the fight, our pasts reduced to the equivalent of four quarters at an arcade."
A few moments passed in silence, then broken by Dumah. "I have to continue on. I have to keep trying."
"Well, if you're gonna be leaving, then so am I." Adolf turned to Dumah, extending his hand cordially. Dumah turned to Adolf in return, grabbing his hand, though neither man shook. They held onto each other as if they would not get the chance to finish speaking if they let go. "Do not die, Dumah."
"This is quite the unexpected sentiment from you..."
"Do not get me wrong, you have grown a bit since last we met. You've matured. Now, when next we meet, it will be on the battlefield, and I will be there to knock you down a few pegs."
It was very odd to be praised for maturing by a man such as Adolf, who is constantly antagonizing Dumah and making his life hell at every encounter, but for once in his life, Dumah felt the slightest respect for the man. Dumah nodded in response to Adolf's threat, and soon, the Swashbuckler awoke on the hard stone of the Cathedral.
- 2312 Words -
"No, wait... I died..." He chuckled a bit grimly. It seemed so weird to admit your own death like this. Dumah laughed at the events that were playing out, falling to his knees, sulking as he began to shed a few tears, which blended in perfectly with the rain drops that had fallen upon his face. After a few moments he looked back at his faint reflection in the glass, opening his mouth and gently tugging on his tongue. He laughed a bit more as he saw it; it was pink. Pure pink. Nothing but pink. He was human, something he had not been able to claim in months since the Apocalypse. Oh yeah, Elder Tale and the Apocalypse. "I suppose I am not exactly 'dead,' per se. I must have fallen in battle and now I am here, between death and rebirth. I suppose all I can do is wait then."
Dumah quickly grew bored of simply sitting around as he waited to awaken in the Londinium Cathedral, and stood up, walking into the hospital. "I remember this place... Though, for the life of me I cannot remember the name of the hospital itself..." Dumah had no idea where he was walking, but it felt less like he was in control of his destination, as though he were being beckoned one way by some peculiar force that could not be explained, as though fate and causality itself were taking a more active role in Dumah's purgatory. After a few minutes of walking the halls, Dumah came across a site he would come to regret finding. He saw one of the rooms open, and walked in to see a sick patient.
Dumah's eyes went wide as he saw before him a moment in his history that he could never forget. The man nearly collapsed, saving himself by grabbing onto the door frame before he could hit the ground. "This is a dream... This is a dream... This, is, a dream...!" Dumah repeatedly chanted this line, reassuring himself that none of this before him was real. Nevertheless, he was shaking; trembling in a maelstrom of emotions. He looked at his hand, shaking as though he experienced a fear one could not describe, akin to waking from a nightmare in the middle of the night only to immediately forget what monster thrust you from the comfort of your slumber. He grabbed his right hand with his left hand and noticed a ring comfortable surrounding the base of his fourth finger. He quickly took it off and looked at the inside of it, reading the inscription. It was nothing fancy, merely a string of eight numbers: "12 - 28 - 2016" He slid the ring back on his finger, and slowly lifted his gaze to a woman in the room, standing by the hospital bed.
The emotions Dumah felt as he beheld this woman were impossible to define. He slowly stood up, his legs still a bit weak as he walked over and examined her in detail. Beautiful long orange hair that flowed down to her back; deep, clear blue eyes with a mesmerizing sparkle in them; a soft face; a beautiful, thin body. Tears came to Dumah's eyes once again, though he was not sure whether they were of joy or sorrow. Whether it were due to the joy of seeing his beloved wife once again after so long, or due to the sorrow of knowing he could not stay with her. "Isabelle..."
He looked down at the hospital bed, seeing a young, sick child. It was none other than his daughter, Zyoto. He knelt down to the bedside and held her hand firmly in his own. He remembered this day: Zyoto had come down with a serious illness and Dumah was forced to leave the opening night of one of his own plays to take her to the hospital. Seeing his own daughter, his own flesh and blood, once again in such pain made Dumah sick to his stomach. Tears flooded his eyes as he gently rubbed his daughter's head lovingly. He smiled, choking on his own sorrow as he leaned in to kiss her forehead. Some time passed in silence; Dumah was happy simply to see his family again.
He contemplated the situation at hand, and was left wondering: Why this memory? Dumah hated and loathed this memory; he always looked back on it with a feeling of guilt and remorse. Perhaps the world was cruel, making its biggest attempt to destroy Dumah's spirit and make him feel pitiful.
Dumah turned his head a bit, gazing out the window as it was bombarded with droplets of rain. Dumah spoke to himself in a soft voice. "I see... So this is death: a hell that brings you to your knees, until you beg for death..." Dumah thought of his guild, his friends, all the people who supported him in any endeavor he undertook in this world. He recalled how he had died, having sacrificed himself to save a member of his guild from being killed. Dumah was a leader, and as such, he believed it was his responsibility to protect all who followed and supported him, no matter the cost. After a moment, Dumah realized why he had found himself in this specific memory.
"No, I did not sacrifice myself for the sole purpose of protecting my guild members. That is little more than an excuse... I see now, I was afraid of failing someone, of letting people down. That is why I awoke in this specific memory. I recall it was opening night for one of my plays. I had been slaving over it for so long, and it was finally time to present my work. So many people had shown up, and I was trembling in fear. 'What if it is awful?' 'They might not understand it.' Such thoughts plagued my mind, and I was horrified, so afraid I could not bear to stay and see the reactions of the audience. When I heard Zyoto had fallen terribly ill, I felt like I was saved, it was the perfect opportunity to escape. I cannot believe myself... She is my daughter, if she fell ill I should have been worried for her, not worried for myself... I claim to be selfless and willing to do anything to protect my friends, but I am just a coward... The forming of the Boston Tea Party... My refusal to fight Adolf's party during the ring dispute... I was afraid of failure, each and every time... I should have come to terms with this, I should understand failure is a perfectly normal part of life, but when so many people look up to you and rely on you, it becomes much harder to accept your failures. You cannot rise until you learn to fall, they say." Dumah returned his attention to his daughter, who was now looking right at him. He smiled softly. "Ah, yes, I have to leave, do I not?" A few tears flowed down Dumah's smiling face. "I have to stand back up on my own two feet and learn to continue, even when I fail."
Dumah planted a sweet kiss upon his daughter's forehead once again before standing up and finding himself in a new area, one he had never seen in either of his two lives; not as Nordin, nor as Dumah. This place was beautiful, with a dark sky dotted with sparkling dots, sand for countless kilometers on one side, and a sparkling, almost magical sea on the other side. The sparks that dotted the sky fell softly to the ground, like shining snowflakes. Dumah looked around more, intrigued by this place. Without a doubt, the most peculiar thing Dumah spotted was the Earth itself, floating off in the distance. "What in the hell...? Where is this place...?" Dumah looked at himself and noticed he was now once again in the body of Dumah Iino. Taking this as a sign of being in the game, he tried to open his menu to see the zone info. He tapped at the air, and a menu popped up. "Mare Tranquillitatis... The Sea of Tranquility... Why is it in Latin of all languages...?" The rest of the zone information was nothing more than a mess of punctuation marks and assorted Greek lettering. "So much for discerning my location..." Dumah had never heard of a place such as this, and he was almost certain a beautiful and peculiar zone such as this would at least spawn a few discussions in the taverns or city forum.
Dumah tore his gaze from the distant earth as he spotted a figure in his peripheral vision. The figure was that of a man in nice clothing, with a soft, handsome face and long silver hair. He walked his his hands behind his back, his right wrist in his left hand's grip. The man stopped walking as he reached Dumah, and stood beside him, gazing at the earth as well. The man gave off a calm mood, one Dumah rarely got to behold. "Well, if it isn't Mr. Iino himself... I will admit, I never expected to encounter you of all people here."
Dumah was a bit tense at first, used to the man's presence being an ill omen for Dumah, but after the man spoke, Dumah calmed down. He returned his gaze from the silver haired man to the earth; "Hello, Adolf. Where are we?"
"Welcome to death, I assume you've heard the tales of what happens here? Of the price for resurrection, and for our immortality?"
"I have heard numerous stories, though the most common report claims that a single memory is taken."
Adolf nodded. "I have been here countless times myself, I have started to question why this game seems to have it out for me."
"Perhaps it is karma, finally catching up to you."
"Please, spare me such tasteless jokes, Dumah. You and I both know you are no fatalist."
"So how did you die?"
"Protecting someone I cared about, surely you of all people must be able to relate to such a thing, Dumah. Tell me: how did you yourself die?"
Dumah smiled and chuckled. "I died a coward."
"I meant what got you killed. Don't you dare answer with 'cowardice,' Dumah."
"I too was protecting someone I cared about."
"That doesn't sound very cowardly to me."
Dumah laughed, surprised by Adolf's words. "Are you complimenting me?"
Adolf gently punched Dumah's shoulder. "Take it as you will, 'hero.'"
They shared a laugh together for a moment before Dumah spoke up. "I am no hero, Adolf."
"You risked your life to save another, just take the god damn compliment."
They spent a few moments in silence. Dumah thought back to his wife and daughter, and smiled. "You are wrong, Adolf."
"Oh yeah, about what?"
"You once told me that the people in the old world may as well be dead. I just got to see my wife and daughter moments ago, and I can positively say you are wrong. They are not the ones who are dead, but we are. Zyoto is still out there with Isabelle, she will grow up, she will find love, she will find purpose in her own life. She will keep on living."
After a moment, Dumah began to give off a glow. As though it were a physical entity, the glow shattered, and its fragments all drifted up into the dark sky. The same then happened to Adolf, and Dumah felt a bit weak from the spectacle, falling to a kneel. Adolf laughed. "I reacted in that same manner my first time I was here. You get used to it." Adolf extended his hand, helping Dumah stand again.
Dumah looked up at the countless sparks floating through the sky. "These must be the memories everyone has lost in order to return, are they not?"
Adolf nodded, standing with his arms crossed. "Yeah, all of the lost pieces of personal history paid to continue the fight, our pasts reduced to the equivalent of four quarters at an arcade."
A few moments passed in silence, then broken by Dumah. "I have to continue on. I have to keep trying."
"Well, if you're gonna be leaving, then so am I." Adolf turned to Dumah, extending his hand cordially. Dumah turned to Adolf in return, grabbing his hand, though neither man shook. They held onto each other as if they would not get the chance to finish speaking if they let go. "Do not die, Dumah."
"This is quite the unexpected sentiment from you..."
"Do not get me wrong, you have grown a bit since last we met. You've matured. Now, when next we meet, it will be on the battlefield, and I will be there to knock you down a few pegs."
It was very odd to be praised for maturing by a man such as Adolf, who is constantly antagonizing Dumah and making his life hell at every encounter, but for once in his life, Dumah felt the slightest respect for the man. Dumah nodded in response to Adolf's threat, and soon, the Swashbuckler awoke on the hard stone of the Cathedral.
- 2312 Words -
