Sin-Eater - Chapter 69: The end (Patreon)

Some say that after that odd, mysterious day in which the sin-eater had stormed the demon infested capital, that the world had actually ended and that this new place that exists was an odd, dreamlike state of transition. It couldn’t really be a real place, those voices would state. Because it was so different, so vast and so entirely void of cosmic dickery.

Sure, a lot of people were still huge jerks to each other and there was a lot of fighting, but all of this was contained between the peoples of this world who had now begun spreading themselves out anew from the containment of the central city.

Without the demon king to guide them, the demonic forces fell apart entirely as soon as the church revealed their scheme and caused a fervent uprising in the population. Some demons fled, leaving to hide down in the darkest recesses of the world or in their north-western stronghold. There they would try to bide their time, hoping that the demon-king might return once again to obscure the light of the sun with his great shadow.

Those demons who didn’t flee and were free from any serious crimes, find their place in absolution, being redeemed through the church and finding a real place in society, even if they are still mostly untrusted. All of those who stayed had to take a solemn vow before bishop Zacaries Montero, swearing on their souls that they ‘wouldn’t be dicks’. Palatinos Salvador runs the operation, keeping a close watch on them all to make sure this holds true.

As for the sin-eater and Alleluia, after the two of them left to go to the throne-room, nobody had seen or heard of them since. Whether they had died together with the demon-king, or whether they had simply left and decided to never come back, nobody can say for sure, as all that there was to be found was an empty throne-room behind a large, ornate, door.

As for the sins and the burdens of the world, well, they’re the world’s problem now. The age of sin-eaters and of such things has come to an end and if there are any gods left at all after these many aeons of strife and turmoil, then they simply refuse to get involved and allow the world to run entirely on its own machinations, perhaps having seen the cost of their continued involvement in mortal affairs.

And though it is impossible to say for sure, as obviously nobody can ever really come back from the dead, the obscurest seers and sages of the oddest and most forgotten towers and houses of the land say that a great magical disturbance has washed over the land, pushing through it once with a great force, like a surge of water pressing through a clogged pipe. The whispers and rumors say that the broken system, that none truly knew about before, now has returned to functionality again.

Though, this is all theoretical, of course and based on a mountain of theories below even those.

Years may come to pass and a great skirmish, the final battle against the demonic foothold in the world, comes to a head at the north-western city, after a siege, led by the holy church, finally brings an end to the horror there and ushering a new era for the species of human-kind.

Even more years pass, an uncertain amount, but a lot of them for sure. The few demons who remain slowly become less and less present as time goes on. Much like the almost forgotten elves and fairies of far, far older generations, they are simply bred out of the time-line by the overwhelming number of humans. Those progeny spread themselves into every direction found on the compass. To the north, to the east, to the west, they reclaim the ruins of the once great cities there, that their forefather’s parents had built.

And as for the south, for the great sea which presses against the central, ‘giant tree’ city, an age of adventure begins to blossom. Fueled by the growing demand of the new cities for exotic resources, supplies, materials and everything else imaginable, a sizable exploration and then eventually merchant’s navy begins to form.

It’s a prosperous time.

Eventually, only humans are left. Humans and the monsters of the wildlands and the dungeons, that have all been restored to a former glory. The wildlands, the humans themselves might have had a hand in, securing large sections of natural forests and designating them as untouchable, having found a way to find balance with the natural world and the spirits that reside within.

As for the dungeons, well, no human really knows how that happened. They had chosen the landmarks out of tradition to build around, but eventually, after a generation or two, the dungeon-gates reopened and thus began an entirely new age of adventure.

A clean slate. It wasn’t as ‘good’ as it might once have been in a long-distant era. But, all things considered, it was pretty good.

Anyways, I’m rambling, guy. Don’t pay any attention to me.

Sister turns its head and looks at the surly group of goblins, carrying a stack of bricks down the next flight of stairs.

“Ah, you’re gonna love it here!” says Sister’s masculine voice, nodding its head, which has one glowing eye and one new, old and dried out one.

“GET BACK TO WORK!” yells a sharp voice from across the room.

Sister yelps, running away. “Don’t mind that,” says Sister, a second later. “Mom has a short temper.”

“I’m not your mom! You slacker!” yells the small figure after them.

“Love you, mom!” Sister laughs. “Classic mom,” they say, shaking their head. “Anyways, where were we?” it asks, turning around to look at the chaos. Monsters of all sorts run around, but in an orderly fashion. Goblins are dragging bricks and construction materials around, slimes are wobbling together along the stone floors, burning them smooth with their acid, skeletons are prancing around with brushes, painting the walls with an oddly depressing gray color. “Ah, right!” says Sister, bonking itself on its head. “You’re probably wondering why you’re here, right?” it asks, tilting its skull.

“Honeeeeeey!” calls a shrill, female voice from the distance. Sister jolts together.

“SHIT!” swears the skeleton. “WE GOTTA GO!” it says, running away before it can be found.

Later that day, as the construction continues, Sister wanders around a lower floor, near the very bottom of the under-construction dungeon. “Hey guy, you back again?” asks Sister, turnings its head to nobody at all. “We’re just about ready for you. Honestly, you can probably come inside now.” Sister turns its head, looking around the chamber that is entirely filled with piping, clockwork and mechanicals. “Is it ready?”

A strong looking, blond haired man of little words turns his narrowed gaze to look at Sister, but then just nods and returns to his work.

“The world is pretty different these days. But that’s an ‘upstairs’ problem, you see?” it asks. “Down here. Well, down here everything is the same.” Sister flicks a pipe, listening to the echo run through it. “The more things change…” It sighs. “ANYWAYS!” it says, pulling itself together, walking over to a couple heaps in the corner of the underground room. “I’ve been keeping you for too long. This is your metaphor, not mine.”

Sister turns its head, nodding at the dungeon-master, ‘mom’. The dungeon-master scribbles something in a small notepad and then, a second later, the world goes dark.

Two, not human, but also not inhuman creatures awaken down in the darkest pits of the dungeon, finding themselves in a rather uncomfortable room that both of them oddly enough find cozy. It feels almost familiar, as the two entities look at each other, staring through the forest of pipes that they have awakened on either side of. 

They’re both squishy, soft things. One is a boy and one is a girl. But apart from that, the only similarity that they have is a single scar that runs around both of their index-fingers, like a ring.

The two of them meet each other, not knowing who they themselves are, let alone who the other is. But they quickly find that they enjoy each other’s company a lot and when the pipes make odd, scary noises and one can’t sleep, then the taller one sings to him and when the dungeon feels particularly cold and lonesome and oppressive, the other one comforts her with warmth and childish games.

It’s a scary, frightening time in a way. But that’s what makes it oddly memorable and adventurous.

Eventually, one of the entities stumbles, falling down while they were playing. His hand catches an odd, short pipe as he falls and pulls it free. The other one comes to check on him. But he doesn’t look at her yet, he’s too busy staring at the pipe. Not knowing what exactly it is that he’s going, he taps it against the ground and his eyes go wide.

Jumping up to his feet, he presses his head against her chest and closes his eyes to listen.

*Tick*

*Tick*

*Tick*

__________________________________

uwu

With this, Sin-Eater has come to an end! Thank you very much for reading!

What's next is that this story is going to get a huge polishing and editing pass, especially the middle. But in the mean-time, expect a new story to pick up pace here on Patreon!

https://www.patreon.com/posts/new-story-1-56001034