I'm cold. No, not in the sense that my body is cold. In that sense, I'd rather call myself hot. Okay, well, that's a different sense. Whatever!
I meant in the sense that I am a cold-hearted person. To be able to think of such a thing, I am definitely a cold-hearted person. However, I can't think of any other way. To survive on Frost, I have to do this.
"Hah!" And so I sigh as I am taken to the bed of a sickly old man as per my request.
He is coughing at regular intervals. It only makes me feel more terrible about doing this. But, I have to. And so, I had requested June and his assistants to leave me alone with this old man in the room. They were hesitant to leave but they do so when I glare like I'm some big-shot even though I am not.
And so, I am now alone with a sick and old man in the room.
"Hey, uh, what can I say?"
This guy just looks at me with no emotions in his eyes. I was told his name is Jock. I was also told Jock is about 60 years old and most Frosts don't live past 55. So, it's a miracle that this guy has lived for so long. However, miracle though it may be, it hasn't been a very pleasant experience for him.
"How do you feel?" I ask, knowing that my question would be infuriating to him and a depressing reply would come back.
"I feel just fine." He coughs and continues, "As you can see, I am in the" he coughs again, "most healthy state possible."
Obviously, he is being sarcastic and he is definitely angry. I had expected that.
"It seems to me like living for almost record time – is not really a blessing for you."
The record time referring to the oldest Frost alive in the world. June told me it's someone in Telmakim, the city I am to get to. He has some weird name that I can't remember but that guy is 63 years old. This geezer, Jock, is not very far off.
"It's a curse." He yells. "Living is a pain, Goddamnit!"
"…"
"If Dues is really the Goddess now, why doesn't she take pity on this old man and take my soul already."
If Dues is supposed to be Goddess, shouldn't you say something like 'why doesn't she call me to heaven already?' or something. The line he just said suits better when referring to the devil in my opinion. That said though, the legends here could be different. Also, Lucifer was a much better person than Dues. Frankly, I'd rather call Dues the devil any day of the week.
"Why are you talking like you WANT to die or something? You are gonna live, aren't you?" I say, despite not being dense enough to not realize that he really does want to die.
"What!?" He coughs, but continues, "Why the fuck would I live? Do you know how painful this is? Do you know how much I suffer each day by just staying on this bed?"
I don't. But I bet he thinks every moment of his life that dying would be better. I have never fallen so gravely ill physically but mental depression has led me to that point once. I, therefore, might be able to understand him better than anyone else here. And from my understanding, at a time like this, what a person WANTS is to give up and die and if people around him keep pushing him to try to live, it might have an adverse effect.
At least, in my case, the bad effect could be cancelled out if one just shows me a 'fanart' of Homura Akemi-san from Puella Magi Madoka Magica. I'm not saying that's how my depression ended. Seriously, that wasn't it. Okay, maybe it ended a little bit because of that ... Whatever!
Back to the issue at hand, this guy is seriously at death's door and wants to knock on the death's door. I am not surprised as – to see a patient like this – was my request all along.
"How would you feel about dying?" I ask him then.
"W-what!?" He is confused, as anyone would be.
"What if I tell you that I can relieve you of this pain and let you die? Will you accept to die?" I ask.
"…" he seems baffled by my question and unable to answer. Yet, I have to press for an answer.
"Come on! What is it? Yes or no!?"
"Of course I'll happily accept and chose to die!" He says with a somewhat hopeful expression, hopeful because he thinks I am not spouting something hypothetical here, hopeful because he thinks I'll let him die. And well, his hope … is not misplaced. That's exactly what I am here to do.
"Then, I will allow you to rest." I say. "By giving me something I want, no, something I desperately NEED, you'll be able to die."
"A-and what is that?" He says, seemingly starting to tremble with excitement like a child. Well, old age IS the second childhood, isn't it, Shakespeare-sensei?
"I am a denizen of a different planet. I don't have the ability to bear this cold. I, however, have the ability to take other abilities. So," I look directly into his eyes, "I can take the ability to live in this cold from you and you will die as your body would no longer be able to survive this place."
It will be a cold, cruel and undeserving death. But, it will be death. And I will get what I want. I can only hope his desire to die is strong enough to accept this.
"Very well then!" As soon as I hear those words, before glee or relief, shock runs through me.
"You accept?" I question knowing that the guy was completely serious when he said it.
"Of course I accept."
"But-"
"Enough! I don't care who you are or what your purpose is. I just want to be set free now. If you are capable of doing it, I would be willing to beg you to do it." And just as he says, he almost tries to move his feeble, skinny hands to my feet.
I stop him though. Of course I can't let him do something like that.
"Fine then!"
And so I decide to go through with it.
"Moral Dystopia it is!"
*****