DCMAGR | Chapter. 41: Tales (Patreon)

A/N: Brain dry sorry for delay. SoL content should be done soon.

The next day came, and I excitedly went about my morning. I took a shower because it felt great. Once more I decided to simply not rush it and take a taxi, something about not using my scythe and simply doing normal things made me feel at peace. Though I was certain it was going to miss seeing me. As odd as it sounded.

Eventually I arrived at the park, the morning sun smiled upon me. The park was close to desolate but the quietness was also charming in its own way. I treaded the pathway until eventually finding the usual benches. And as promised; the Old man was present waiting for me.

Eventually, I arrived at his side after a few seconds of walking. He turned upon hearing me approach.

“Here early, I see.” He smiled.

I paused. “Were you waiting for a long time?”

The Old man shook his head. “Not at all, there was no promised time after all.”

I took a seat and nodded in understanding. No time was said. Indeed the magical promise could not be broken since there was nothing to break. The only term was; tomorrow. Which was today. That made a lot of sense.

“Did something happen?” The Old man asked with confusion. “You seem preoccupied.”

“Ah, no.” I shook my head. “I was thinking about our promise, that’s all.”

He nodded. “Right, I did say I’d tell you a few tales. That was our sacred promise.”

“Sacred?” He nodded once again.

“Pinkie promises are sacred.” The Old man smiled. “You didn’t know?” I shook my head and he chuckled. “Now you do.”

“Oh.”

The Old man gave me a few moments to process before he began to speak once more. This time taking a deep breath.

“Kaiti, do you want to hear my tales?”

I paused from the unexpected change of demeanor. Though I was supposed to share my stories first. I stared at the Old man and his distant gaze. This was fine too.

“I want to hear your tales, Old man.”

He smiled. “Very well, then let us begin with a tale as old as time, one that has been ongoing for my entire life. Well, it’s my life after all.” He chuckled.

“Then that’s only as old as your life,” I said. “Not as old as time.”

“Time doesn’t exist till I begin to exist⁠— at least in my constrained world view.” He shook his head. As I stared with confusion. He coughed. “Philosophy is quite dumb, wouldn’t you agree? No forget it⁠—“ He shook his head yet again. “Tales should be told as is and not sprinkled. Where was I⁠—

He told his tale, it was about an average man. A very average man with an average upbringing. An average life, falling in love⁠— and that was it.

The Old man spoke for maybe a minute and finished. It was painfully normal. Lacking the usual tone of the Old man or his way of being. It was just dry. He nodded to himself, satisfied and then turned to look at me.

“Was that disappointing?”

“A bit.” I admitted. “It does not sound like you.”

He chuckled, he seemed to have pleasant thoughts. “Maybe. But even in lies truth exists⁠— ever present. Even if they are just droplets in a river. The question is, how much of what I said is true and how much is lies?”

I frowned. “I thought we were sharing tales.”

“Oh but that is a tale, not a truthful one but a tale nonetheless. Want to hear more?” He asked with a grin.

I pondered for a second. “A non-truthful tale?” He nodded. “Sure…” I agreed with self doubt plaguing my mind.

He smiled and shook his head. “Unfortunately non-truthful tales hold nothing of value. I can say things such as; the sparrow died unsatisfied with its life after achieving nothing, feeling lonely after alienating its fellow kin in the pursuit of greatness. The lesson being to not let go of the things you hold dear, but.” He sighed. “I think such things hold little to no value⁠— we can talk about not repeating the mistakes of the past, we can say things are very educational. But I, as many others, still committed the same mistakes that we were aware of but never committed to heart. Pain is a great teacher.”

“Pain?” I asked with confusion.

He nodded. “One learns from pain, I don’t believe it to be the end, it all be all. But us, humans, can be stubborn.” He chuckled. “I can say that from experience; though perhaps I am the only fool amongst all of us.”

I frowned. I didn’t agree with what he was saying at all. Mistakes were inevitable. I knew that now. “I don’t think you’re a fool, and even if you are, there is nothing wrong with that. In the end, you’re just you.”

The Old man paused, and nodded after a second. His emotions fluctuated. “Indeed, nothing wrong with that. Well said Kaiti.” He pondered. “How about you tell me your tales, the ones you spoke of. Something about servants.”

“Oh.” I opened my mouth in small surprise. “Sure.”

He nodded, and I began to speak, vividly recalling my memories of the Underworld and interesting tales I could tell. I spoke about the corruption and the tentacle species, though different from the tentacle monsters, but quickly ran out of things to say. Huh⁠— I had nothing. No matter how much I thought of things, I simply recalled that most of the things I could say had already been said. My life was mostly dull and uninteresting.

“What’s wrong?” The Old man asked.

“It’s just,” I pondered. “I suppose I have no tales?”

He slowly nodded, giving me his opinion. “A tale can have a meaning or it can not, it depends upon you. Recounting things of daily life is fine too.”

“I suppose so,” I sighed feeling disappointed. “I just wanted to surprise you somehow?”

“You’ve already surprised me plenty of times.” He chuckled, his happiness more than obvious.

I pondered. “Is that so?”

He nodded. “Yes, your world is full of life. Even if sometimes I cannot make sense of it. Keep it up, intrigue and imagination is what keeps the world magical.”

Keeping the world magical? I stared at my surroundings, at the clouds overhead and at the people in the distant sidewalks. Everything was so calm, and so mundane.

“The world isn’t particularly magical.”

The Old man stared at me for a second, before chuckling. “Not literally but figuratively. The wonder of discovery.”

“Wonder of discovery?” I murmured to myself.

“Yes, the wonder of discovery.” He nodded, perhaps I had voiced it a bit too loudly. “It is what keeps the world fresh for me anyway. Finding new things, even if they don’t exist. Exploring new places and meeting new people. Though I am too old for the last part.”

I took a brief breath, trying to draw comparisons to my life. It rang true more often than not. “Do you like exploring places, Old man?”

“I used to, exploration is nice. Finding places never seen before, seeing new things is always nice.” I pondered considering a few things.

There was no way the Old man had seen the Underworld. But at the same time I also felt it was unsafe to bring him there. I was unsure if it was even safe for me to be there.

“Hmm, would you like a few pictures of the place I spoke about?” The Old man stared at me weirdly, his stare made me get carried away. “Where the tentacles reside, where the sky is red and screams resound?”

The Old man blinked. “If you  can get me pictures of such a place then perhaps it’d be great. But I am doubtful. Photo manipulation does exist, though its details are unknown to me.” He shook his head. “Manipulated photographs are great too, imagination is limitless after all. The only shackles being reality.”

I nodded. “I’ll get you some pictures then!”

“That’d be a welcome surprise.” He smiled.

I pondered for a few moments weighing the things I could do for the Old man. Most of my time had been spent with the Old man, and the other part was spent with my scythe, which oddly liked to simply exist along with me. The Old man liked to discover new things, and I was certain he hadn’t seen my scythe. But, aside from the fact that it was part of the Underworld. Would it be alright for him to see it or touch it?

“Are you thinking about how to get those pictures?” The Old man asked with curiosity.

I shook my head. “Something else. Do you dislike sharp weapons?”

He pondered. “A bit random, but if you mean blades and such no real preference.”

“What about scythes?” I looked at him trying to sense any emotions but it was just pure confusion.

“Never really seen one in my life.” He admitted.

I paused. He hadn’t seen one? If I showed him my scythe it’d be the first scythe that he had seen? I fidgeted. “Would you like to see my scythe?”

“Your scythe?”

I nodded. “Yes, a Grim reaper’s scythe!”

The Old man stared for a few seconds, and then his phone vibrated. “Maybe show it to me some other day,” he said. “Unfortunately I have to get going.”

That was unexpected. A sigh escaped me. “You always leave at the weirdest times.”

The Old man chuckled. “That’s how life is. Unpredictable and elusive. But I look forward to the pictures.”

I smiled. “You should look forward to my scythe more, it likes to be cuddled.”

He paused. “Is that so? I’ll look forward to that then.” He waved and left. His mood seemed odd.

Did I say something wrong?