The sound of snow being trampled and a light whistling of the wind could be heard in a world painted white by snow, this place was devoid of life. An old man with hair as white as the snow he treaded walked up to a small rusted gate and pushed, the metal whined as it rubbed and scraped on it's joints.
"Heh.. even the gate cries here" the old man let out a short chuckle and proceeded deeper into the white haze. Rows of headstones made up most of the grounds, except a few scattered wild willows and the grounds keeper's lodge. Nothing could be made out on the stones as they had all been buried by the snow, only the paths in between were cleared and navigable. The old man slowly crept up towards a specific grave, even in the snowstorm he knew exactly where he had to go.
The old man knelt in front of a grave and stretched out his wrinkled bare hands to the stone, cleaning the accumulated frost from it. The tombstone read "Seralin Lantis - Forever Smiling - 5th October 2044 To 23rd April 2138".
"I am glad I could convince the name carver to use your game alias, I know it was what you wanted." 'It would be wrong to use your birth name' he thought to himself. Still kneeling on the freezing earth underneath his knees, his hands red from the cold, the old man could only grin and let out a few brief laughs that were tinted with a sombre tone. "You know I've visited you more times in real life after you died than I ever did when you were alive Seral, go figure right? Only death could bring us together."
The old man leaned in once more to gently caress the edge of the stone like a lovers neck. Tears streamed down, warm against the cold ridges of his aged face. "I'll never forget you Seral...." the old man looked down at the ground and opened his palms over the cold snow, tears dropped from his face slightly melting the snow in places. "Never!" the cry could be heard across the whole yard, dark birds scattered into the storm cawing at the sky.
The old man knelt frozen for what felt like hours but in reality was only around ten minutes. The tears had stopped a while ago and the last drops had frozen onto his skin, he stared blankly into the ever white sky looking for something. He didn't know what, but he was searching for it.
"Hey! Old beggar do you have a death wish!" a voice boomed behind the old man who still knelt at the grave. He turned around to see a ragged middle aged grounds keeper walking towards him with a snow shovel in one hand and a flashlight in the other. "I... err... ehm.. I lost track of time, you'd do the same at my age!" he retorted back at the man while trying to pull his mind back together and thinking about just what his answer to that question really was. The old man slowly got up and wiped away much of the snow that had gathered on him, his bones ached and his skin had become red and numb.
The grounds keeper walked over to him, feeling some relief when the old man was able still to get up and shake himself off. "Come inside, I'll make you some tea and you can warm up by the fireplace. Can't have anyone dying in my graveyard now can I". The grounds keeper gestured for the old man to follow and he did, a warm room was what the old man ached for at the moment and this man was the savior granting his pain some relief in troubling times.
The wooden door opened and warm air quickly rushed out. They both entered swiftly and the old man closed the door behind them. He took off his thick overcoat and it cracked as the sheet of ice that had formed on it snapped in several places, the crackling noise served to only make him feel stupid for staying out in such harsh conditions. The grounds keeper motioned for the old man to sit down and he took him up on his offer without hesitation. This place was warm, not just in terms of heat but in terms of how it was put together, looking around the old man saw aged carpets, a slightly dusty mirror and finely crafted yet rather worn furniture. Yes, this place was a home.
"Thank you for inviting me into your home, my name is Brandi... I mean Malcolm. Old habits die hard." The grounds keeper raised an eyebrow to Malcolm, knowing what he meant when he nearly said another name. That other name must have been his game alias judging by how he almost said it by accident. "An old fart like you plays a VRMMORPG? I don't believe it!" He said grinning and patting Malcolm on his shoulder before taking the seat opposite to him. "Heh I've been playing since long before you were born, I'm 93 years old young lad and I've been playing it since I was 6!" With renewed vigor Malcolm announced his pride and joy, if he had the choice he wouldn't take a single second away from the time he spent online, not one.
"87 years?! Does that mean you were around for the launch of Zagon?!" The grounds keeper shot up with eyes giddy in disbelief. "I was young lad, actually I still carry the pendant that came with the original collectors edition." He made a smile as he gently grasped the metal pendant that was hidden under his shirt and revealed it to the grounds keeper who was shocked and still in awe. "That thing is worth my yearly wage! I've never seen one in real life before, I can't believe I am getting to see one here, in my own graveyard of all places!"
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"Hey sonny you never did tell me your name, oh and that kettle is boiling over." The grounds keeper turned around and jumped quickly at the boiling kettle, he got so caught up in the moment that he forgot. He quickly made two cups of tea and sat back down, handing one to Malcolm. "It's Alex.. my name is Alex." He said still flustered at seeing such a rare treasure in real life and he gave out a small sigh to calm himself before taking a sip of his tea. "How long have you been playing Alex?" Malcolm asked with a clear motive in sight. "Hmm, I think around 32 years now. Nothing in comparison to you but I have accomplished a fair bit of my own!" he said proudly. "Oh? Do you solo play or party up?" a wry smile was plastered onto Malcolms face. "I'm in a party of three, been together for the past couple decades at least by my reckoning. Why do you ask?" Malcolm thought for a second before saying "So was I lad, we adventured together for over 240 years of in game time, mostly just the three of us. Me, Seral and Wendal were a single body and we knew eachother so well that we always knew what eachother was going to say well before anyone actually said it, we laughed together and cried together. In fact I can't really remember much of my life without them, you wouldn't believe what we've seen and done. Wars between dragons and creatures that still give me nightmares sometimes. The death of a tarrasque was a moment I'll never forget, that fight lasted four in game days and it is only one of many memories. But those moments wither with time, the fear and the love. In the end they all become forgotten, my friends are gone now and only I'm left. The last one holding on to those cherished memories, but I'll be gone too soon enough and then no one will remember those times. Kid if there is any advice I can give you it would be to live now, the past will wilt and fade and the future is always tantalizingly out of reach. There is simply nothing you can do about it and you only hurt yourself by trying"
Malcolm finished his tea and glanced out the window to see the storm had quelled. His hands had returned to normal and he felt less rigid. "I've got one more grave to tend to, remember kid, life is fleeting, make sure to enjoy it." The old man grabbed his coat and left Alex's home with a single destination in mind.
With renewed vigor Malcolm strode towards the second grave he had intended to visit today, quickly arriving at his destination he cleaned the snow off the gravestone, it read "Wendal Curt - Always Kind - 22nd July 2044 To 17th December 2139". "Hey Wendal, you know it's tough me being here you asshole. We used to visit Seral together and you were there when I first cried infront of her grave, I guess I saw this coming but it's still your fault! How could you leave me here alone!" Furious he glared at the unmoving stone, a faint glistening set of tears gathering in his eyes, he wiped them away. "I forgive you Wendal, it's the least I could do for you considering everything you've done for me". Malcolm's heart gave a pulse of sadness to his entire body but he resisted the urge, giving the outside world a smile in return.
Malcolm turned away and walked confidently to the gate that granted him access to this plane of painful memories. Each step harder than the one before it. Malcolm knew that every step he took away from his friends would be his last time being that close to them After reaching the gate Malcolm stopped, raising his head he softly said "goodbye, dear friends."
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The walk home was a blur, his mind was a mess of emotion and the thing in his chest didn't help. He walked back home purely on instinct, a man without a motive. Upon arriving to his detached home he entered and headed straight for his bedroom, hunting the object that was the focal point on which his lives have revolved around. A jet black helmet with several lights and cables surrounding it, placed neatly on his bed. It was a virtual reality device, the name Sphere etched into it.
Old hands clutched the device and he pulled it close into his chest. He stayed like that for a while. After a moment of trepidation he placed the headset on and layed down on his bed. "Enter" he said as his vision went black and all of his senses were cut off, he came to the familiar darkness. It only took a few seconds for his world to change to a nostalgic sight.
A world of green and blue quickly shot into the view of Brandish, a sight he had seen just before leaving for the graveyard. This was the cliffs of Ayhen, the sea crashed against them with massive force and the skies drifted calm fluffy clouds overhead. Brandish looked down to the three graves on the edge of the cliff, no players could be seen in this area because it had no value for experience points or loot in any way. Nothing spawned here, this was where Brandish, Wendal and Seral used to spend hours relaxing and resting after long days of dungeon raiding or resource gathering. The smell of Wendal's cooking came to his nose and a whispering giggle found it's ways to his ears.
Brandish took a deep breath and got down onto the soft grass, his head up against the central gravestone and his arms stretching around the non-material bodies of his loved ones.
"Logout"
Malcolm opened his eyes, took off his Sphere and stood up to scan the contents of his room. On his table were a series of papers detailing his will and other things. In the corner of the room was a chair with a hangmans noose swaying above it. Malcolm Stood on the chair and attached the noose around his neck, with a single kick his senses disconnected once more and the darkness embraced Malcolm a final time.
His last thoughts were of the first moment he, Seral and Wendal met. A sunny day in the cliffs of Ayhen, smiles and curiosity were on all of their minds as they embarked on what was to become their lives.
A voice entered his mind while he bathed in the empty darkness.
"Hello Brandish, I'm the goddess Beltrix. I have a proposition for you, my little waif."