“At the end of the day, everybody dies.”

A few thousand individuals were sitting in silence with their eyes closed. Many were smiling, while others had tears streaming down their faces.

“If that’s the case, then why should anything matter at all? Why am I filled with regret? Is there any point in having regrets?”

In the center of the crowd was a small stage, and seated on it was a group of around ten musicians. They were playing this concert’s finale: a requiem.

“I do wish that everything had been different… But everybody I knew would have eventually died of old age anyway. What would have really changed?”

The conductor lifted his baton high above his head, and with a graceful motion, the requiem’s final solemn chord resounded. He swirled his hand and, with a flick, the town square once again fell into silence.

“Perhaps the sole purpose of life lies in hoping that there is an afterlife.”

After nearly a minute of silence, the square slowly filled with applause. It lasted a good while, and every musician on stage stood up and bowed. Standing politely in front of them was Gray Shadestone, the conductor.

As the applause died down, there was only one remaining sound that could be heard: sobbing. Many in the crowd were covering their faces, restraining themselves from letting out sad noises.

“Everybody… I’ve had no honor in my life so great as conducting humanity’s final concert…” Gray racked his brain, searching for words to comfort the crowd. But he gave up after a moment, so he just shook his head and bowed. “Thank you all, and farewell.”

A portion of the crowd applauded for a few moments, but the applause didn’t grow too loud. Slowly, the throng began dispersing.

Gray turned around to the ensemble, saying, “Thank you all. You played great.”

Many of the musicians donned a genuine smile. It was a moment of levity that betrayed the somber atmosphere. Their smiles quickly faded though, and they began trailing off the stage, leaving their instruments behind.

Gray lingered around for a minute or two in thought, then descended from the stage himself. He was greeted by a number of townspeople.

“Maestro Shadestone,” an elderly man began shakily, “Mana has soothed my flesh all these years, but your requiem has now soothed my soul… My slumber will be sweet. Recently I have begun praying, asking our divine to have mercy on you in the life to come.”

“...Thank you.”

“Maestro Shadestone…”

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After many minutes of thanking the townspeople for their kind words, Gray made his exit from the square.

………………

Gray kicked off his shoes, spun around, and flopped onto his bed. After letting out a loud sigh, he laid still for a number of minutes. Afterward, he stood up and walked to his kitchen.

He pulled a dusty bottle of ale and a glass out of one of his cabinets, and set them on the table. He started to pour the ale into the glass, but then smiled, and began drinking directly from the bottle.

Soon, in the distance, the sounds of clanking armor and marching could be heard. The marching slowly grew louder and louder. Gray stood up and walked over to his window before closing it. He sat back down at the kitchen table and took another swig.

For a moment, he considered thinking about life. He also considered wondering about death. His resolution, though, was to take yet another swig.

Soon, he heard explosions and women screaming in the distance. Screaming would stop, and then more screaming would take its place. Soon, the ambience descended into a cacophony of explosions, shouts, and screams.

Gray sighed and rubbed his face before walking back over to his living room and sitting on his couch. Beside the couch was a large, fretted wooden instrument with six strings. He picked it up, sat it on his lap, and began fingerpicking and strumming. He was playing a reprise of the requiem he had written for the concert earlier.

Suddenly, a loud banging noise interrupted his playing. The banging was on his own door. Gray winced, but continued strumming... now louder. He shook his head, and resolutely ignored the noise.

Closing his eyes, Gray continued to strum as he heard the door burst open.

He smiled.

………………

After a number of minutes, Gray finished playing the requiem. To his surprise though, he was still alive. What surprised him even more was that everything was silent. He couldn’t hear any screaming, and hadn’t yet felt any pain. He resisted opening his eyes, but soon gave into the temptation. In front of him, though, wasn’t a monstrous figure… It was a floating blue light. Soon, it transformed into a number of floating, glowing words.

Your Spirit has Pleased the God of Creation

Gray was taken aback for a moment, but then became intrigued. He tilted his head in amusement... he was a bit intoxicated, after all. Within a few more moments, a number of other glowing words appeared.

Welcome to the Illustrious Interface

Please make a selection:

Accept Blessing Deny Blessing

Gray didn't think very long before making his selection.

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