Death's Gambling

by Martin Länger

  It didn't take long for her to reach the collapsed gates to the throne room. What both of them saw when they arrived was something none of them would ever forget. Emily rushed into the room immediately and left Asthen behind who slid to the ground, trying to grasp what happened.

  Between all the destruction and violence, tranquility returned to the stronghold and over time the bawling and explosions lapsed into silence. Almost an uncomfortable absence of sounds drowned the battlefield as the rays of the suns were shining through the holes into the fortress.

  Before them were Delirias and Gwyn, laying in a crater, while the sunlight peacefully illuminated their bodies. Delirias had laid himself next to Gwyn. With closed eyes, the aspect had pressed Gwyn's cut off torso against his chest. Not far from them they found the severed body of Leandro. No trace of Destare could be seen anywhere.

  “W-what happened here ?” Emily, who was boiling with rage a minute ago, was overcome by grief.

  Once more she couldn't stop a tragedy. She didn't know that the two of them made it here, but the pain inside her grew with every passing second. Her stomach cramped up, and she let her tears roll down her red cheeks. Even though she wished to hold on to her anger, she couldn't anymore. Asthen was unable to move and vomited on the floor near Emily until nothing was left except his salvia. The only one that didn't seem to be affected by the events was Gieldan, who stood comfortably and laid back at the entrance with a malicious grin on his face.

  “Careful or else your human might notice something,” sneered a deep voice of a man that appeared next to Gieldan.

  It was Greed who had finally advanced to the throne room with his men. Gieldan continued his self-assured grin and turned himself towards Greed.

  “Thanks for your concern, but it's already too late for that.”

  “I love it! You aspects are so deceitful,” Greed laughed, and with the clinking of his armor, he walked towards Emily.

  “Looks like Despair is already history,” he grumbled. “I would’ve loved to get my hands on him.”

  “Little human, you have my utmost gratitude. Without you I surely would have lost more men than necessary,” he said in a friendly tone.

  “What does any of that matter now?” sobbed Emily.

  “But we won, that is what counts or not? --Hm?” puzzled, Greed looked around the room, not knowing how to react. Emily had stopped answering him.

  “Men, we are finished here. We will take these two with us, and then we're going back home! I don't want to run into one of those wimpy, self-righteous virtues, nor any Undertakers,” the Lord said as he pointed in the direction of the remaining bodies while his warriors began to rejoice euphorically.

  “NO!” Emily roared instantly.

  “Why not? They are dead. What are they supposed to do here, except to rot?”

  “We will bury them here, and then I will come back with you.”

  “What about the white-haired fellow? Do you want to bury him as well?” Gieldan joined their conversation and asked with a condescending voice while he nodded towards Delirias.

  “I don't care. What matters to me are the two humans and what is left of them,” said Emily with a commanding undertone.

  “Hmpf, alright. They shall be your reward for your marvelous effort. It's a shame that despite all you did, you couldn't save them from themselves. My sincerest condolences. My men and I will wait for you,” Greed proclaimed with a fake empathetic tone.

  “Lord Greed! This one is still breathing,” one of the warriors shouted as he inspected the body of Delirias.

  “Wonderful news. We will take him with us at once. What about you, little human?” the terrifying Lord turned to Asthen who had just gathered himself.

  “I will come with you. There is a lot I have to make up for.”

  “Ha ha, what a fantastic day. You are very much welcomed to our city,” howled Greed overjoyed. “These dipshit Personas always talk smack about our home, but in reality, it's quite the paradise. The one that you carve and create with your own two hands.” The Lord grabbed the young man and his aspect as he was ready to march back to his armada.

  “Paradise, huh?” Emily mumbled in a melancholic voice as they left.

  “Emily, let us begin. We still have a lot to do. It's not over yet,” Gieldan reminded her, and the aspect started to clean up the debris lying next to the bodies.

  “You're right, it is not over. This is just the beginning for us,” Emily protectively held her hands over a black book that she had tacked onto her belt. She cautiously swept away the tears off her face and cared for the remains of Gwyn and Leandro.

  The chapter about Gwyn and his new found friend Leandro came to a close, yet their end was only the beginning for something else. Shortly after something happened, something none of three humans could've ever imagined.

  The consequences they brought forth within the subconsciousness were already gradually affecting the human world.

  Restlessness spread itself in societies around the world. Not only in the province where the case of Lohka had been reported, but even in the town where Gwyn lived and other places alike. For most of the people it wasn't something that could've been grasped at first glance, but like always, change was slowly crawling its way to the surface, engulfing everyone.

  The events that happened in the subconsciousness were influencing all of mankind, without them even knowing. For some, only subtle changes could be felt, while others were shaken to their very core.

  Just like in a time where the reports of suicides bring forth even more victims, the feeling of disturbance swept through the people. Stronger than everything they had seen in the last decade. A new age had begun to set its course.

  Epilogue

  Not too far from Gwyn's house, an elderly looking man walked up and down the street with anxious steps. After a few minutes, he couldn't bear his indecisiveness any longer and moved on. The man, about the age of fifty, was of middle height and showed patches of gray hair. Sweat accumulated on his forehead that was covered by a cap. Lost in thought he was almost run over by a car, twice. Ignoring the pedestrians, he moved with a fast pace through the alleys, almost feeling how his brown leather shoes were fretting in the process. Only after he saw a blue sign hanging from the wall of a house, he paced himself, taking a deep breath before cautiously stepping through the door of his own shop. A bell rang when he went through and a cheerful voice greeted him.

  “Welcome to the magnificent 'Blue Crayfish,' How can I be of service?” said Tyr.

  “Oh Dad, it's you. You're here earlier than I expected. How was the trip?”

  “Hello, my son. It was good, good like always,” he said in an uncharacteristically primly tonality.

  “Is something wrong? It's rare for you to be so distant. Moreover, you look like you've seen a ghost,” his son smiled at him. “It reminds me of the face that Gwyn made when he visited me over a week ago. He acted even stranger than usual.” Tyr had to hold back his giggling.

  “He just arrived out of nowhere and asked me for some ominous sounding books. At least for him, they were strangely serious. I'm still going through some of them since I couldn't stop thinking about his weird behavior,” the young man pointed to the counter where, similar books to the ones Gwyn took with him, were lying spread out.

  “I will never fully understand that guy. I hope he's well,” he said as he went to hug his father, taking off his jacket.

  “Tyr, my son. That is the reason why I'm here so early. It may be best if you sit down for now.”

  “Why? What's wrong?” Tyr asked with a puzzled look.

  “You know that we were always honest with you. No matter what happened. Even back then with your mother, we wanted you to know the truth, but this time I'm not sure I can find the right words.”

  “Out with it. I'm sure I can handle it.”

  His father sighed and almost teared up as he saw the glowing eyes of his son.

  “You look so full of courage. Ready to take on all t
he things that life could throw at you. Is it really the right way to burden you with this as well?” it went through his father's head as he gazed upon his smiling son.

  “So? Will you tell me or shall I tickle you until you confess?” Tyr teased him. Unsure what his father could be so worried about he went back to his books. “You can't possibly mean that something happened to Gwyn. I'm sure I would've noticed that.”

  His father was silent for a moment, mustering up all the strength he had. “I am, Tyr. The police have contacted me. It about Gwyn.”

  “Wait, what? What happened? Is he hurt? I thought you were kidding, but if it's true we gotta hurry!”

  “He is dead, Tyr … The police are talking about a suicide … and I-I,” he lost his voice for a second ”I don't even know what to say ,” his father responded in soft and hurt tone.

  At once everything was silent until his father continued with a disturbed expression. “They don't know exactly what happened. We have just gotten the news. Susan is already on her way.”

  “Th-this can't be, right?! That has to be one of your jokes.”

  “I'm at a loss for words. I'm so, so sorry Tyr… Tyr?! Where are you going?” his father shouted helpless after the young man as Tyr promptly snatched his coat and stormed out of the shop.

  “Damnit!” filled with anger. the elderly man rammed his foot into one of the shelves.

  His father knew it was hopeless to chase after him. Derived of a clear mind and plan, he let his mind wander as he walked towards the counter where Tyr had been reading.

  “I hope you stay strong, my son. This is not only a dark day for you, but for our whole family. Gwyn was the last precious gift from his parents to the world and to us as a family before they left us. You have grown up together, and now he is no more. I cannot possibly imagine what is going through your head, Tyr.”

  While Tyr had left his father in the bookstore, he ran through the streets in search of an answer. His heart ached with every step he took and his muscles cramped when he tried to breath. The tears were rolling down his cheeks as he didn't even know why he was still running. He couldn't bear to listen to what his father was telling him.

  Nothing could change this situation. With the memories of his friend in his heart, he made his way through the cluttered street, like a fish swimming against the current, ever moving forward.

  Yet, even Tyr didn't notice that, while the tears deep in his heart were growing and the grief was taking over, something else was already lingering in the darkest corner of his soul, waiting for its chance.

  In a lifeless world covered with an endless desert, a shadow walked by aimlessly as a giant gate slammed itself into the ground before it, slowly opening its door with a loud jar.

  “Ho?! The gates are opening after all this time?” The shadow looked around, merely catching a glimpse of gigantic ruins in the distance.

  “Am I the only one left? Looks like nobody's around,” a mischievous voice murmured as it scouted its surroundings “Oh sweet freedom, I can almost smell you, reaching out to me after all this time.”

  Unbeknownst to Tyr what lied in the depth of his inner self, he aimlessly searched for something on the surface. Something that he wouldn't find at this time, no matter how hard he looked. As if someone had ripped a hole through his body, leaving behind emptiness and planted a seed of grief.

  Out of breath and still hoping for clarity, he came to a halt when he finally reached Gwyn's apartment complex.

  “What the hell happened to you Gwyn?! You were always looking restless, but not enough to give me the impression that you were going to kill yourself. I just don't understand it … It's just so sudden … it doesn't make any sense,“ the young man clenched his fists with all of his might

  “And that's why I will not give up until I’ve found an answer that I can live with!” Tyr said to himself with determination, ready to get to the bottom of it.

  Meanwhile, in The Blue Crayfish, Tyr's father rested without uttering a single word.. In his unrest he began to re-organize books, cleaning up the shop. Anything that would take his mind of the immense pressure he felt, dragging him down into sadness. His gaze eventually reached the books on the counter that his son was eagerly flipping through.

  “'Multiple personality disorder, also called dissociative identity disorder... Decay of one's identity... different personalities taking over control.’ - is this really what you have been searching for, Gwyn? What in the hell happened to you, my boy?” he spoke with grief and closed the book whose pages were beginning to soak up his falling tears.

  “Now that you're gone … what shall become of Tyr?”