Final Goodbye

After leaving the adventurers guild, I only had one more place in my mind. My memories resurfaced as I indulged myself on the path I took during the short time I stayed here 7 years ago. A promenade that led past multiple wooden homes homes in the village, and snaked around allowing me to save myself walking on the grass. This cobbled path all led to the back ends of the village where not many people passed by, and located there was a solitary wooden home, that looked much like the rest yet held much more in my eyes than the latter.

I see it hasn't changed one bit. It looks as vivid as it did in my memory. The picture in my mind fluoresced into reality appearing in the form of this wooden home that hadn't been aged more by the weather over the 7 years. The marks on some of the logs remained, the narrower path that led to his door was still as bumpy as ever, and his door's handle remained just as dusty as when I first was taken back to this house.

It was all in my mind, but I could see my younger self bursting out the door with a hop in my step, shouting to the old man who took care of me whilst I trained eagerly to prepare myself for my first... and last mission as an adventurer.

What a disgusting piece of shit I was. Worthless and retarded. Unable to think critically and process hints. A sheltered child that thought he knew better.

I continued walking forwards, snapping myself out of my reminiscing and following the path that narrowed straight to the door.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Some of the dust came of the door as my fist crashed into it creating an alerting noise. However, no one answered. Silence filled these moments. I continued knocking politely every five minutes.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Nothing.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Nothing.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Nothing.

I continued knocking like this until an hour had passed. Still the reply was nothing.

The silence rang in my ear. I didn't find this uncomfortable however, due to my life being mostly filled out by this sound. Until it broke. A women roughly in her late-twenties calls out to me. She was the first person to walk past this house since I arrived.

"You probably don't know this, but the man won't answer his door." Her voice reached out to me as her gaze fell with a pity on my face.

"And why is that?" I snooped.

"He will never open his door again... because he's dead." Her last words echoed in my ear. Just like I thought, actual sound irritated me more than the silence.

"Do you know by any chance, what the cause of his death was?" I sucked up my hate for the sound talking created and broke the silence asking about the old mans death.

"From what the doctors have told us, it was a combination of extreme stress and failing health." Her tone was gentle, making sure the delivery didn't trigger any emotions on my part.

I looked down to the floor, my eyes squinting and itching as I tightened my hands into sealed fists. A single rain drop fell on my cheek, and no other rain followed.

God I really do hate the sound of words. The silence is... much more kinder.

My attention finally faced back to her and I asked one more question. "Could you tell me where he was buried?"

Her face formed a hurt frown the more she gazed at me. "Of course I can. He has been put to rest in the cemetery located on the other side of the village." Her voice trembled as she finished her sentence.

"Thank you." I whispered to her in a sigh. The words struggled to come out of my throat like it was being shredded by a grater.

I placed on of my hands on my head and walked past the women, slumped and slowly walking to the cemetery.

Just minutes later, I found myself searching the cemetery grounds for the mans grave. I walk around carefully, studying each grave making sure not to pass his by.

There... it is.

The gravestone was fairly fresh looking at it, well maintained as well. Only small bits of moss were growing in on the baby blue shaded rock. I slowly crouched down and placed a bouquet of lilies in front of the grave stone that I purchased before arriving here. I then stumble to one knee and whisper a soft but hard swallowed, "Sorry..." before allowing the silence to pave the distance between us once more.

I quickly left the grave and hurried to the nearest bar, purchasing the finest and most expensive alcohol they could provide with the money that I found in the Ancient Wind Spirit Temple that I went back to after coming back out from that independent world.

I pace back to his grave, alcohol in hand and I gently and steadily open the bottle of rum. I stand over the grave and began tilting the bottle to it's side, pouring out the contents of the bottle onto the mans gravestone, as my long snow-white hair is lifted carefully in the wind.

"I should tie this up, shouldn't I?" I asked the mans grave as if he would magically answer me. My iris grew larger, the deep cardinal colour setting over the bloodshot sclera of my eye.

The sun slowly faded into an orange yolk falling over the horizon. Just like the sun, I followed into the dark to awake the next moment where I would live just to oversee the same tragedy again, sipping on the remains of the rum left in the bottle.

I've had this dream, so many times... the world, the people moving on. But I remain stuck in the same spot, fixed in the sky, overseeing the deaths of all that I ever paid attention to.

It's just a dream... but it feels all to real.