Chapter 8 – Brain, Heart…
“Oh, I see” said the Tin Woodman “But, after all, brains are not the best things in the word.”
“Have you any?” enquired the Scarecrow.
“No, my head is quite empty,” answered the Woodman
“But once I had brains, and a heart also. So, having tried them both, I should rather have a heart.”
– L. Frank Baum, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
– ***** –
Twenty days before breakdown, late evening (IGT)
You have accepted the quest “The little girl who couldn’t smile”.
A tired Elric dismissed the window, then glanced at the last reddish flares of fading daylight. He smiled. Despite the mind-challenging request he just accepted, the Solar Knight really felt appeased, seeing the in-game sunset for the first time in months. He just now realised how much he had missed the virtual night-sky, with its two moons and foreign constellations. The sight really was breath-taking. He would have stayed there until dawn if he could, but now wasn’t the time. Yawning, he got up, stretched widely, and looked down at the Elder, still sitting on the grassy ground.
“It’s getting late, old man. I better get the little stalker home. Which house is Martha’s?”
“Ah. Yes. Thank you. Hers is the only one with blue tiles, you can’t miss it.”
“Blue roof. Got it.”
“Oh… And one last thing about the quest. Don’t try to help Dorothy with magic. It wouldn’t yield the expected results. Believe me. In fact, don’t use spells on any of the villagers, not even for healing. That would be for the best.”
“…” Elric frowned. “Why?”
“It has to do with this place. I can’t say more to an outsider... which you are. Sorry.”
Tsh… Is my intimacy level still to low? Or is it something else? I knew this place smelled fishy. Well, at least he’s honest about it. I hate sneaky manipulative liars. Would be a shame not to push a bit more though.
“Something to do with the illusion barrier?”
The hamlet chief let out a small sigh, before answering:
“Partially. But I won’t tell you why.”
“Your citizens did use [Purity Blaze] against me though.”
“They were trying to annihilate you.”
“…”
“…”
“…oh.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll do without magic then.”
Doesn’t seem like he’ll spill the beans just yet. No biggy. Just you wait, “Elder”, I’ve got all the time in the world. Haha! In both worlds in fact. Muhaha! Well… School starts again in six days… So let’s say I’ve got around twenty days here… Hahaha! Just you wait, “Elder”! I’ve got “around twenty…. No that doesn’t sound overbearing. That sounds pitiful…
Oblivious to Elric’s failed attempt at mental power-ranting, the other calmly responded to the knight’s previous statement:
“Very well. And thank you again.”
“Stop thanking me. It’s getting creepy.”
The wrinkled chief just smirked mysteriously, eerie shadows casted on his face by the faint greenish glow of the Emerald Mountain.
“By the way, Martha’s house is quite large, by local standards. I’m pretty sure she has one spare room. You can sleep there if you want. Just tell her you’re going to help with Dorothy, she’ll be overjoyed. Or you can sleep outside. The nights are warm around here, and I’ve heard stargazing is a rare commodity in the outside world.”
“It is. In Erwyn at least. But I’ll take the bed, if offered. I’ve had my back-full of hard bumpy ground.”
“Suit yourself.” The Elder laboriously got up.
Elric stepped towards the inefficiently camouflaged Dorothy, picked her up, and held the child in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder.
Too young for princess-carry, miss. It would look like I’m holding her lifeless corpse. Not sure Martha would welcome the sight.
The little sleeper unconsciously clung to his shirt.
Aaaw~ So cute... She’s such an angel when she sleeps. It’s a shame she turns into a devil whenever she opens her mouth. Please keep your mouth shut, Dorothy.
With the lightly snoring girl comfortably set up in his arms, Elric voiced a quiet question:
“Elder? Can I ask you something?”
The old man looked back from his inexistent doorstep, already half inside the log cabin.
“You can ask me whatever you want, son.”
Ooooh… I’ve ranked up to “son” now. Amazing! Ah! No. Not amazing. Focus! “Whatever I want” he says…
“What’s your real name?”
“Good try, boy.”
“…”
Tsh… retrograded.
“Then, this incident with her parents? What was it?”
“…” The Elder marked a small pause. “Give it your best shot?”
“Undead?”
“I knew you were a smart one. Kekeke.”
With the vague impression of being made fun of, Elric started the short walk back to the main village. From his viewpoint, slightly uphill, the small cluster of low houses looked troublingly otherworldly, standing in the oddly geometric clearing, surrounded by ancient woods exhaling slow puffs of dense white smoke, dimly lit up by golden crimson rays from the west, silvery blue moony glow from the east, and ghastly green luminescence from the south. Not a single dark clouds was in sight, even though the forest couldn’t possibly span far enough for the depressing cope that covered all of Erwyn not to be visible, at least in the distance. This whole place looked like a dwelling of mystical spirits, right out of the dream of a child. For an instant, Elric wondered if he had unknowingly set foot in the afterlife.
Suddenly, the Elder’s voice rose behind him.
“Oh! And, sonny, when you ask Martha for a bed, tell her to warm it for you. She looks a bit icy on the outside, but she’s a real beast when she gets down to it! Experience’s talking!”
Dumbstruck, the newly appointed Solar Babysitter spun to face the old pervert, but the man had already disappeared inside his makeshift home, shutting the door – dirt-solid curtain? – behind him.
– *** –
Finding Martha’s house in the small hamlet proved to be ridiculously easy, even in the setting darkness, first thanks to the huge rocky night-light, and also because...
How the hell did she managed to get this many weird shades of blue?!
Pondering on the inconsequential issue, Elric walked up to the door, and knocked. Almost immediately, the wooden panel abruptly swung open, nearly breaking his hand off. In the entrance stood a blond woman in her late thirties, wearing nothing but a nightgown. She really looked cold, figuratively speaking, as the night was indeed warm. Elric hadn’t gotten a good look earlier, when she unsuccessfully tried to recall her adoptive daughter, so her brusque appearance and cruel expression startled him, almost making him take a battle stance. Thankfully, despite his mind being half-filled with alien blueness, he remembered he was carrying Dorothy on time, and managed not to drop her, probably saving his own life in the process.
Upon seeing the little sleeping girl in the tall man’s arms, Martha’s face first showed subtle surprise, before softening a bit. Well… from Elric’s standpoint, “softening” perhaps was too strong a verb. To the knight, she suddenly looked less likely to slice him on the spot and more to maybe ask questions before ripping him to shreds with her bare nails and bathing inexpressively in his blood.
”She looks a bit icy” you said, senile old FART!? Under-FUCKIN’-statement of the year! After an illusion mist, a rain of holly fire and an enchanted fence, are you trying to kill me with a heart attack?! I knew you looked suspicious! You damned psychopomp! And all those apples!? Where are you hiding your evil notebook? I won’t tolerate this. I AM JUSTICE! …Ah! Good thing I opted out of the corpse-carry.
Mentally cursing the Shini-… Elder, but still very much willing to keep his innards inside his body as long as possible, Elric immediately started to explain the situation, actually succeeding for once in getting strait to the point. After hearing him out, Martha let out an uncommitted:
“I see.”
HAHAHA! “I see”/“Icy”. Good one… haha… Please laugh Miss – Mistress? – Martha? I’m scared here. Or better… don’t laugh. I have a feeling that would be the most terrifying thing I’d ever see in my entire existence. I still want to enjoy dreams that aren’t nightmares. Mercy, I have a child. Even if she’s not mine. Oh. Right. She’s yours. Haha. Sorry. Please don’t kill me?
Without showing any imminent will to savagely decapitating him – nor any will not to –, Martha stepped aside, allowing Elric inside the house. Her face also relaxed another notch. Now, she would possibly use an actual weapon to gut him, sparing her powerless victim of the pain of being slowly minced by her sharpened claws.
– *** –
After laying Dorothy in her room, the very obedient knight was shown his. As one could guess, Martha was a woman of few words. She briefly thanked him for bringing back her daughter – he noted the choice of word – and informed him breakfast would be at seven, before leaving him alone in what looked like a small closet with a sheeted mattress tossed in a corner. It was still quite decent, considering the overall size of the house, and also spotless. The Ice Queen probably scared away even dust. Without further ado, the exhausted Elric fell on the makeshift bed. Alone.
Not that the Sage of the Wild was opposed to the idea of two single, consenting, adults engaging in casual sex – not necessarily singles in fact, as long as everyone involved agreed to it – especially in-game and with NPCs, nor had he any maidenly illusion about the interrelation between love and physical pleasure. He had at some point gone through a “biology” phase, and was thus very well aware of the concepts of stimuli and physiological hormonal responses – sad disillusioned generations, children of a science-oriented world.
Truth be told, Martha was quite attractive for her age. Once gotten past the murderous aura, her heartless pale blue eyes seemed very appealing to Elric. Or he was just a masochist. He himself wasn’t sure. However, by principle, he drew the upper line to women a decade older than him, limit that Martha exceeded by at least five years. Plus, he though, Dorothy waking up to the sound of her guardian having sex with a stranger wasn’t the best first step to mental rehabilitation.
Especially if said stranger comes to her the following morning, telling her she would be “spending some fun time with him starting today”. Speak about shooting yourself in the foot.
Staring at the ceiling, he pondered for a while about how to deal with the traumatized little girl. He soon concluded he was too tired to think of a way to handle her, forgetting tiredness never had much of anything to do with him being unable to think strait. Anyway, he would do as he always did, and improvise as he went, hoping for the best while trying not to make everything explode.
Haha… I wonder what an exploding little girl looks like.
On that note, he logged off.
– ▲▲▲ – <1>
– ▼▼▼ – <2>
Logging back in, Elric opened his eyes, only to catch glimpse of blurry twin-tail-ness materializing in his field of vision, before a sudden blunt force stuck his unprotected stomach. Thank the Sun, he barely ate the previous day.
Timing!
A few seconds later, and he would have been able to evade the attack. A few seconds earlier, and he would have only felt some lingering pain upon waking up, because only his mindless avatar would have suffered the abuse. In Untold Tales, when a player was logged out, his virtual body strayed in the world, unconscious. That was one of the reasons why every user could only have one character, as to not overcrowd all the inns in the known world.
Elric glared at the young evil creature sitting atop of him in triumph.
Since when do medieval Oz rip-offs imitate anime caricatures of little sisters? Damn you, lonely friendless traumatized orphaned little girl!! That knee-blow would have killed a mage! Aren’t you supposed to be depressed or something?
“HELLOOOO! Mister Not-Undead Knight Single Elric Walker!”
Fuck you too, Dorothy. Drop the “Single”!
“Hell-o-ooo! How are you? Fine? Me too. Now, get off me.”
“Tehee~”
With an impish smirk, she ran out of the “bedroom”.
“No, seriously, which part of her never smiles, again?” Elric muttered.
He wasn’t being completely honest with himself there. Elric did notice something was off with the girl, he just couldn’t figure out why just now. Years of being a part-time antisocial selfish nerd, each time he found himself a new hobby, hadn’t made him the best psycho-anthropologist of the world.
Aaaah. I really do hate myself sometimes. It never last long though… See I love myself again already. Rise and shine! The Killer Ice Queen made breakfast! Where’s my memo about detoxification spells, again?
Mumbling half of his thoughts out-loud, hopefully too low for anyone to understand his grumpy gibberish, he got up and out of his allocated closet, rubbing his eyes and holding his belly in pain.
“And that is how you understand pain felt and damage dealt are two completely unrelated notions in a game world. Seriously, should I sleep in my armour from now on? Ah. Right. That would compress my ribcage and suffocate me. Rule five. Rule five.”
Upon entering the living-dining-kitchen-room, Elric was greeted by the “frightening” sight of Martha, wearing a pink apron – with clothes under –, happily smiling as she cooked. “Happily”, from Elric’s standpoint, probably translated into “as if envisioning the next poor soul she would slowly dismember using the large wooden spoon she is currently holding”. The Solar Knight was slowly developing a rare case of girly-pink-o-phobia.
“Good morning, Sir Walker. Well slept?” She asked in a low “threatening” voice.
“Oh… Yes. Thank you.”
Well, I logged out, so not really… Do you always need to talk like you’re about to emasculate me?
“And Good morning to you too, Miss Martha.”
The woman nodded in acknowledgement.
“I asked Dorothy wake you up.”
“Yeah… She did.”
Elric glanced at the little demon sitting at the table. Of course, being “Dorothy from Kansas”, she was wearing a faded blue gingham frock of sorts, with white checks, as well as red leather shoes.
Where’s Toto? The dog. Not the ghoul… I soul-melted that one. Shouldn’t there be one somewhere? And “ruby slippers”? Did the makers of the game prefer the 1939 movie to the book, or did they just opted out the colour silver because it didn’t sit well with the neighbouring zombies? In the end, the movie creators only did this because of the Techn-… Ah! Damn. Random thoughts and retro-trivia. Shut up, Brain! And you too, Pikny! AAAAAH!! KUGELSCHREIBER!! For My sake! Stop! Quiet! Ruhe! I’m trying to wake up here. I barely slept in real life.
While Elric fought his own psyche as usual, mentally spouting German words for no apparent reason, Dorothy was staring blankly at the wall, mechanically chewing on whatever was in her terracotta plate. Once she noticed the man’s vaguely focused gaze, however, she suddenly smirked, discreetly waved, and started eating with a renewed enthusiasm.
“…”
Again… There’s this weird familiar feeling that bugs me…
Frowning, the perplexed knight sat down opposite to the source of his puzzlement, and took a look at what she was gulping with such a fulfilled expression. It seemed to be mashed potatoes of sorts, accompanied with the unavoidable apples and unidentified black grains. Some kind of pepper probably. Martha soon served him the same thing, before sitting down herself. Hungry – and his satiety bar seemingly attempting to reach a negative value –, Elric readily took a large piece of the steamy purée… and froze, his spoon still in his mouth, whose lips were rapidly turning blue.
*dry wheeze* “Martha?”
His voice sounded raspy.
The supposed coldblooded assassin looked up.
“Do you mind if I *cough* if I handle the cooking from now on? *cough* I’m staying here for free after *cough* after all. I *cough* would really like to *cough* *wheeze* *cough* to repay you in any way possible, *cough* and I’m quite confident in my skills. *wheeze* *cough* Not to brag.”
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He mentally dismissed the three windows informing him of different poisoned status, and anxiously tried to check the health indicator in the corner of his blurry vision. As expected, the bar was slowly, but steadily, decreasing.
“Please…”
Martha simply nodded and the migraine-inflicted knight let out a mental sigh of relief. Dorothy had watched the exchange with questioning eyes, while rapidly finishing her food, completely unfazed.
Hoy hoy… What’s her level of [Immunity]?
– *** –
After emptying his plate, as not to offend the merciless cook, and enduring the hazardous effects of the mysteriously lethal dish, since he didn’t know how to counter them, a very pale, blue-lipped, watery-eyed Elric was trying hard to concentrate his thoughts on the patiently waiting, well-behaved, perfectly fine little Dorothy.
Damn… Food poisoning is something a basic detox spell should be able to handle! Why the fuck didn’t it work then?! Only complex poisons should require the knowledge of their ingredients to get cured. Did she do it on purpose? No… She probably could kill me without second thoughts, but I don’t think she would while I’m favoured by her daughter… Ah! Jealousy? No, doesn’t hold up. Aaargh… And she even promised to give me the god damned recipe! Should I add “pepper” to my fast growing list of deadly threats? YEAH!? RIGHT! Letter P. Just before “PINK” and “PRIESTESS”!?! AH! That’s so stupid. Was a side-effect of the musical bridge to get acute allergy to pepper?! No, I’m not even making sense anymore… “He who lives by chaos, dies without making sense.” Rule 374? AAAAAAAH! Focus! It’ll get better with time… probably.
In front of him, a concerned-looking Dorothy tilted her head.
“Are you okay~, Mister Not-Undead Knight Single Elric Wlaker?”
Again with the “Single”… I’m obviously NOT “okay~”, you invulnerable little devil!
“Yes. Perfectly fine. Don’t worry.”
All worry immediately left her face.
Oh… Happy to see you care sooo much about my wellbeing. Or are you just overly obedient? …Mmmh. I got that weird “feel” again. Did I? Not sure. Might be my stomach imploding. Or my lungs collapsing. Acute internal bleeding maybe?
Elric was now attempting the first step in his plan for Dorothy’s “treatment”.
The Elder was one to think “Crazy people make the better psychiatrists”. Not denying his own unsoundness, Elric wholly acknowledge the old man’s point of view, especially given the recurrent sense of familiarity he had felt when observing the apparently-not-so-traumatized child. A “normal” approach on the problem was therefore not on the menu. Yet he couldn’t cook any recovery “dish” without knowing what illness he was supposed to cure. “Phase One” of his plan thus focused on pinpointing the source of this “familiarity” that bugged him, and involved… talking.
Well… I can’t be ALL original and new. Not sure what else I can do at this point, since I was denied resorting to magic.
The Reckless Imbecile also had still no idea what “Phase Two” would be. One couldn’t even talk of a plan anymore at this point.
It’s the perfect way to start. I’m onto something. I know it! …which is also what I said before poking that sleeping giant cyclops’ eye, a year ago… B-But the situation is totally different! And I must at least get some results before Martha the Ripper comes back. Where did she go anyway? Dorothy said she was both the carpenter AND the lumberjack of the village. Can’t say I’m surprised her job involves playing with knives and swinging an axe… but where are those trees she’s supposed to cut down? I didn’t see any in the clearing outside of the apple orchard, and the woods are covered by the [Misty Illusion Barrier]. Do they make them magically pop? [Accelerated Growth]? Or [Seed Strengthening]? Or is there actually a way to navigate the fog? Mmmmh… I could ask Dorothy, but I feel reluctant for some rea- AAAAH! Dorothy! Shit. Focus, idiot! Now’s not the time to analyse Kansan lumberjacking. Keep on track, Brain!
Punching himself – not the smartest thing to do when one’s poisoned sick –, Elric directed his wavering attention back to his “patient”, who was observing him with a practiced look of puzzlement.
“Sooo… *wheeze* Dorothy. Is there anything you want to talk about?”
Bravo. Wunderbar! Way to go, you wannabe Freud…
The girl was surprised by his sudden question, her face momentarily losing all expression.
AH! Again…
She quickly got a grip on herself, and frowned, seeming to seriously consider his half-assed question.
“Miste-”
Elric quickly raised a finger to her lisps.
“Drop the Mister… and the Not-Undead… and the Knight, and the Wlaker, AND the Single… Especially, the Single.”
“…”
“Elric. Just Elric.”
“Big Brother Elric?”
Aaaaaaaaaw~ You’re the antidote to that witch’s cooking. But, if you had called me uncle, I would have punched you regardless.
“If you want. I’d like that.”
“Then, Big Brother, can you tell me about the outside world?”
– *** –
Like almost every living being – insistence on the living part, here – in the Kingdom of Erwyn, Dorothy had never left her hometown, or at least, in her case, had no memory of it. Elric still was confused about how her parents ended up as undead bentō while being citizens of the magically protected Kansas. The only logical possibility was for the attack to have happened somewhere outside of the [Misty Soul Barrier], which raised other questions about why they had left the safety of the village, and how the hell did Dorothy manage to survive after the accompanying adults had turned into gory bacon – Without eggs nor toasts. How uncivilized! –, when she herself had probably been barely more than a toddler at the time.
And also the question as to why do zombies eat people when they’re don’t even need food in the first place… Something to do with hating all living things and lacking weapons beside their teeth I guess, but I digress.
Leaving those unanswered interrogations aside, the aspiring little sister was a real animated adventure-sponge, constantly asking more about this and that, craving for details, and expressively responding to Elric’s lively story-telling. She made an exceedingly good audience. In any other circumstances, he would surely have enjoyed being acknowledge with such apparently innocent childish honesty. However, throughout the morning, the Sage of the Wild seriously observed the girl, analysing her behaviour, her reactions, her words, and, all the while, stayed on the lookout for his odd forebodings.
Well, being on the verge of puking blood surely didn’t contribute to his enjoyment either.
It took five hours for Elric to figure out what was wrong with Dorothy, as well as the source of his hunchs. During those five hours, the Wandering Knight held forth on what he considered his paramount achievements. Among those were teaching an acrophobic harpy how to fly, defeating the [Squinting Earthworm of Doom “Philibert”], exploring a monster infested mine under the commission of a dwarf painter, stealing nasal hairs from a sleeping dragon, climbing a glacier to listen to a singing flower, surviving being thrown into an active volcano by an angry fire priestess – twice –, crossing three countries to collect the randomly teleporting parts of a sentient but very maladroit golem-mage, finding the legendary Lost Library of Butv’Erisit, as well as eating the Crown Jewels of the Queen of Landeng and narrowly escaping public hanging. One must know those presumed gems were in fact extremely rare – and expired – candies. Every single of these “exploits” was highly memorable, but the one Elric remembered the most proudly was his encounter with an adventurer named Fatherless Bird.
Fatherless Bird was an assassin – obviously – who had been commissioned by someone Elric had angered for some reason. He hadn’t any memory of neither the backer, nor their motive, but the Wandering Knight remembered the medieval hitman for being the only one of his craft courageous or obstinate enough to actually dare go after him in the depth of the Wild.
Bird had one problem though. He utterly sucked at his job. After his sixth miserably failed attempt, Elric had taken pity on the guy. He captured the hooded incompetent on his seventh try, and then spent a week thoroughly training him. Basic stealth, cloaking spells, fighting techniques, throwing weapons, poisons, patience, out-of-the-box thinking, illusionists’ techniques and escape tricks, everything the inventive – and clearly enjoying himself – Solar Knight could come up with was mercilessly engraved into the begging assassin’s mind and body, until his sadistic instructor finally granted him his freedom. A month later, looking at the knife expertly embedded into his own throat, Elric had given Bird the thumbs-up as the man released his perfectly casted camouflaging spell, before accepting the friend request his killer had sent him, and eventually dying from the poisoned mortal wound.
Despite her enthusiasm towards the other stories, Dorothy seemed to fail to understand this deep display of manly friendship, as well as the pride of seeing a disciple actually succeed, even at one’s own expense, but Elric didn’t hold it against the inexperienced little girl. More so since he finally understood her condition. It could be resumed in a simple sentence.
SHE’S A FREAKING PSYCHO!!
.
.
.
Well, not exactly. I’m a tad overreacting. If she’s a psychopath, I’m a mentally unstable serial killer... Which I’m not.
It wasn’t that Dorothy was completely insensitive or inhumane, however she had made a habit of showcasing what she thought to be the appropriated expression in every situation. It probably originated in the aftermath of her parents’ death, and her memory loss. In such case, people were usually full of good intentions towards the unfortunate victims, but having grown-ups constantly worry over something that made her subconsciously sad, but was absent from her memories, must have felt unbearably uncomfortable to the newly orphaned young girl. Therefore, she decided to act cheerfully, in order to reassure the sympathetic adults, to release herself from the pressure exerted by their confusing kindness, while putting her own feelings aside. Over time, her repressed emotions started to fade, and more and more her fake accommodating expressions became who she thought she really was, fooling everybody, including herself, about her true state of mind. That was why her smiled seemed empty to the old life-experienced Elder.
What Elric had noticed was a lag, a slip in her constant subconscious acting, a short time during which she wouldn’t be sure what was “best” for her to feel, and therefore showed a momentary blank face. Simple confusion could also have caused such a reaction, so he had tested the girl without her knowing. While telling his personal tales, he had laughed at events that should have been shocking or sad, acted sorrowful when he spoke of joyous balls and feasts, or scared when nothing warranted it. Not once had Dorothy failed to follow his lead, never showing any bewilderment towards his absurd behaviour, and only every now and then falling into her fleeting emotionless lapse. Elric was quite sure of his diagnosis, even if the supposed causes of her state were mostly conjectures on his part.
The reason why Elric was able to spot this “lapse”, also the reason behind the familiarity he felt, was his own real experience in self-mind-warping. Indeed, the one they called the Reckless Imbecile hadn’t always been this irresponsible self-centred oddball. True, younger, he already was passionate, unfocused, and a bit weird, but not as irrational, and at times self-destructively single-minded, as he was now. However, at some point, he began persuading himself of the unimportance of anything that was unrelated to or distracted him from his current interest, suffocating his anguish and guilt under the metaphorical pillows of his self-satisfaction. Curious wasn’t it, this power the brain had to overpower and rewrite one’s heart if they really tried?
Still, discussing his interests and debating over them was an essential constituent of the enjoyment they procured him, so he needed friends to talk to, and the easiest way he found to gain and keep people’s attention, affection even, was to be unique and interesting. For him, it meant to become even more peculiar. While overacting his feelings, he carefully chose which one to show in order to keep his constructed character of wise buffoon intact. By acting this way until it became a reflex, he further altered his personality, and became this odd, playfully untactful and selfish guy who had his own weirdly original opinion on everything and always stayed optimistic, not caring about the sad stuff. This was also why he paradoxically enjoyed people’s company while finding it tiresome and avoiding it, since it demanded him some efforts to maintain his happy façade up all the time. Thankefully, he truly cherished his friends, and liked helping people in general, so he could avoid devolving completely into a self-absorbed jerk. All said and done, Elric himself was quite conscious of his own twisted mentality, and this recognition enabled him to understand Dorothy better than any of the villagers.
Compared to Dorothy, the cause of his mild mental unsoundness might have been vastly different, but the symptoms were essentially the same: an overly enthusiastic persona coupled with rationally acted out feelings.
Elric had never once thought about reforming himself, because he had deliberately fallen into his unhealthy pattern, was fully conscious of its abnormal nature, perfectly happy with it, and because this state of mind had long since reached a form of stability and became his real and true core. The traumatized girl, however, started it as a defence mechanism against the oppressiveness of the surrounding people, as well as to avoid questioning the feelings caused by her repressed memories. Therefore, unlike Elric, the foundations of her mind were everything BUT stable. Worse even, the child wasn’t even aware of what she was doing. A single push in the wrong direction, and she would collapse, devolving into a hollow shell devoid of personal will, existing only through the emotions others poured into her.
The Insane Wannabe Psychatrist wasn’t about to let it come to this however. Never wanting to get “better” didn’t mean he wasn’t aware of a potential “cure”. It was pretty simple actually, and generally opposed to anything a graduate therapist would suggest. The shock therapy. The only sure-fire way to force back into reality someone who deliberately cut himself from it, was to confront them with something so huge, marking, and profoundly real that they wouldn’t be able to ignore reality ever again. And, be it fortunately or not, Dorothy was carrying, inside her own mind, a shock therapy waiting to happen.
– *** –
The sun was high, it was the beginning of the afternoon, and the villagers of Kansas merrily attended to their daily occupations. Near the central square, in a blue-tiled wooden house were a man and a girl. While the girl took a nap, the man stood by a window, holding an apple and looking up at the cloudless sky. Taking a bite off the fruit, Elric smiled.
He had his “Phase Two”.
– ***** –
<1> ▲▲▲ will be used to mark a transition between the game and the real world
<2> ▼▼▼ same, but from the real world to the game
----------------------------------------
Voilà. Another chapter that ends. Another chapter to come.
I’m not sure how the “psychological” stuff came out. I found out describing something fundamentally abstract to be annoyingly difficult. I just hope it wasn’t plain boring and that I didn’t make Elric look like a melodramatic sociopath. Well… now that I look back, it doesn’t seem that long of a passage, it just took long to write, comparatively.
Not much to say, except thank you for reading, and see you next chapter.
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