I don’t really know what it is that I feel.
I don’t really know if I am happy or if I am sad.
The thick, heavy fog of the dungeon-gate surrounds me, pressing against my armor from all sides. The hot, dewy mist pearls on the sheen surface of my metal body, forming large droplets of water which run down my sleek form, like cool sweat dripping down over tense muscles. It drips down my body, water drips down my body, as if I were walking in the rain. Each of the droplets carries away with it some of the filth and the gunk and the mud and the blood and the crusty, flaky ooze of the black-water that has hardened onto me, as they dribble down to the stones below myself. As I am cleansed, at least in body. As I am washed, free from the physical stains of my existence.
Only you cling to me, your roots set in too deeply to be removed by something as simple and pure as water. Pure-water. What a novel concept.
We stand there, in the midst of the portal that leaves out of the dungeon, not in a moment of hesitation, though I do. Not because I am fearful of what lies beyond, though I am. Not because I am scared to leave my home and everything that I know, though I am. Not because of any particular reason stemming from such a spiritual nature.
It’s simply nice to stand in the rain.
It’s simply nice to stand here and to feel it all wash away and drip down our legs. Catharsis. The longer we stand here, the more water collects on our body. It is as if all of the moisture here is drawn to us and us alone. It’s simply nice to feel so much lighter, even with the weight of the water. Even with all of the wet, I still feel lighter because of all of the goo that it washes off. I must have had a lot of that sticking to me. Goo.
I roll my shoulders, feeling a cracking in my bones.
I appreciate that you sometimes take control of the situation, guy. I appreciate that you also know when to let go and to let me take over again. Sometimes, I just need a little nudge, a little gentle push in the right direction and I am glad that you know that. We get along so well.
My head rises up, staring towards the storm that rages above myself, with only a single eye. It doesn’t bother me as much as I expected it to. I can still see plenty just fine. Do you think that sister will figure it out too, guy? Like we did? She doesn’t have you, like I did. I’m really a lucky little creature. Maybe the luckiest in the entire dungeon.
Stolen story; please report.
Yeah? You think so?
I sigh. I’m glad to hear that. I am relieved. Sometimes, you can’t just save somebody. You have to leave them a gift, a trail of crumbs to follow, tools, so that they can save themselves.
My boot steps forward as you give me another nudge.
I’m scared, guy. What if the outside is scary? What if it’s cold and sad and empty? What if there really is nothing there for me? At least down here in the dungeon, I had something to climb towards, I had something to fight for, something to keep me going no matter what happened. But what will I fight for now? What peak can I aspire to reach, now that I have reached the highest point in the entire world? What is there left for me to do? To be?
We walk, as you calm my shaking hands, your roots tightening the gaps between my joints so that they can no longer jitter.
Will you stay with me, guy? If I take you to the mountain, will you stay with me after that? I don’t want to be alone. I’m scared to be alone again. I don’t want to go back alone to the darkness.
…You can’t?
Oh.
I lower my gaze, staring at the ground as we walk, with only the sounds of my heavy footsteps to accompany me. I guess I understand. You’re getting old too, huh? I’ll miss you, guy. We’ve had a lot of fun together. Don’t worry. I’ll take you to the mountain. That’s just what a good friend should do.
The thick fog slowly dissipates, the lights of the raging storm slowly dissipating as we reach the end. Despite my fears, I keep walking. Despite my doubts, I keep walking. Despite knowing that I am about to leave the only thing that I know behind, I keep walking. What else is there to do?
- Go back?
And then what?
Stagnate? Cry? Die a thousand times over in the darkness of the abyss below the world? As if. Is that what a hero would do?
No.
I lift my gaze, tightening my fists as I march, as my heavy, drooping cape billows behind myself as I pick up my pace, moving fast enough that even the wet, soaked-through fabric flows behind myself. I’m not going to stop. I’m never going to stop. I’m going to go to the mountain and then I’m going to go to the ocean, even if you can’t come with me, guy.
I’ll do it for you. Even if I have to be alone. I’ll do it for you.
I lift my hand, covering my one good eye as the light shining from ahead of me radiates with a bright, furious, crimson intensity. It’s so bright. It’s so warm. It shines with such a passionate, jubilant glow. Look at that color, guy. Have you ever seen anything so red? So warm? What is that? Do you think there’s a fire? I hope not.
We leave the fog and stand on the other side, alone, just the two of us, having escaped the deepest dungeon in the entire world.
Slowly, lowering my hand, I squint as a light brighter than anything I have ever seen before shines my way, as something massive, something god-like breaks over the distant horizon that seems so impossibly far away. It is so bright that I have to avert my gaze just a little at first. It is as if I were looking at the creator themself, tell you what.
It is so warm, that I somehow manage to feel it, despite the fleshlessness of my gestalt. I feel its gentle rays pierce through the dew on my body that continues to dribble down from my eyes, despite us having left the fog. I feel…
My hands fall down to my sides as my trembling legs give way and I fall to my knees, as I bask in the light of the morning sun for the first time in my life.
Guy -
Guy, it’s so warm!