Whenever Caelan closed his eyes, all he heard were the sounds of dirt covering the coffin. The humid earthy smell would follow, invading his nostrils against his will. Weeks had passed, and he still held onto those.
For an hour after the alarm rang, he lied in bed. Directing glances to the empty side of the double bed, the untouched set of pillows besides him. Every so often he could hear the usual words as well. Come on, get your lazy ass out of bed already!
Sighing, the man stood up, stretching a bit before making the bed. Breakfast followed, ground beef and potatoes, seasoned with a light touch. Only upon sitting down Caelan realized he had made two portions and set the table for two. With a loud grunt, he saved the extra food for the next day and put away the extra utensils.
Someone called while washing the dishes. "Hey Matt, how's it going?"
"Checking in to make sure you alive." He seemed to be waiting for an answer that never came, so he broke the silence first. "The boys are planning to go out for a few drinks tonight. Wondering if you want to come."
Frowning a smidge, Caelan placed the final plate on the drying rack. "Negative, not tonight."
"Look man, we all worried about you. It's been over a month alre…"
"It's only been six weeks! And I am fuc…" He stopped, took a deep breath and counted to five. "I am fine. I don't need drinks, I need… Never mind."
"Just… call me if anything happens, alright?"
"I will. Tell the boys I've got 'other orders to follow tonight', alright?"
To clean his head, the young man went for a run to the gym, leaving the car behind. Already heated up for it, he focused on the simple practiced motions. Pushing and pulling, no need for much thinking.
Afterwards, some practice with the sandbag. Jabs, crosses, all the basic moves. Then finishing the session with a few rounds of shadow sparring.
Back home, a shower. He stopped when reaching for the shampoo. Looking at the many unused products. You should throw it away. Or give to someone who will use them.
Once again, they were left untouched.
Then, cleaning the house. It didn't need anything tidying up, but he had nothing else to do. Sweeping, taking the dust off, all the usual motions. Less than an hour later, he found himself back at his previous state. Pondering on what to do, he almost didn't hear the bell ringing.
A delivery man waited by the door. A package to him, packed as a gift, no less. Upon opening it, he froze, unable to believe what he found inside.
The Ultimate Collector's Edition of The Ascendant's Path trilogy of videogames. The kind that comes with a statue of the protagonist. The faint voice of her explaining their whole dynamic to him came to him. A note came with the package, with a few words.
Check the third drawer besides the cabinet.
Stomach in knots, he looked in the general direction of the room where he got instructed to search. Despite the alarm bells ringing in his brain, his body moved towards the door. Decorated with an obscene amount of stickers, the door seemed to loom over even his massive frame. You have delayed this enough anyway.
With a sigh, he opened the door.
A slight cover of dust adorned everything inside. Aside from that, everything felt the same. Even the floral smell trapped inside stirred him in ways he couldn't comprehend. Every wall hidden by shells filled with figures, books and weird objects. On this last category, pretty rocks in weird shapes were the majority. And dominating the room, a television with all gaming consoles, a pair of armchairs in front of it.
Clenching his fists, Caelan stepped inside.
He moved as quick as he could, each second inhaling the fumes inside threatening to be his undoing. Inside the instructed place, a single paper envelope. With swift moves, he took it out and then jogged back outside, sealing everything once more.
Back against the door, the young man slid to the ground. He steadied his breathing, eyes closed as practiced exercises took place. Once he felt ready, the envelope got opened, revealing a letter. One penned in her calligraphy.
Hey Blood Sworn
How are you going? Knowing you, probably locked inside home like a wounded bear, refusing to socialize like a normal social animal humans have evolved into becoming. I bet my body pillow collection you even refused to come inside my woman cave and only found the letter when the present arrived.
If I am wrong and you did come inside to clean whatever unholy mess I left behind when I last used the room months ago, congrats, I am so proud of you! But we both know I am right, don't we?
Anyway, in case you wondering, the games aren't meant for me. On account on me being very much dead and buried by the time you get those. If I am not, I plan on burning the letter and then enjoying the trilogy myself, with you complaining on the expenses besides me.
Growing up, I spent way too long in hospital rooms. Heck, you spent at least 2/3 of that time with me, so dunno why I included it here. Guess it is to explain that games have been my way to feel less scared with the whole "not living till 30" thing. And The Emperor's Path has been my absolute favorite game in the entire world.
The journey of Kai Garnier, from a simple student to the Hero of Lucernia has been an inspiration to me. I could endure all the treatments, the meds, the fear, because of this one fictional man.
And you, the sole pillar holding myself together. You have been my rock all this time, my harbor amidst the storms that followed my ship all my life. But despite how strong you are, I know it can be too much sometimes.
Like when I am no longer there to hold you in my arms, to play with your hair while the raindrops hammer our window. To ask you how work or gym were that day, To clean the ears of a man twice my weight while humming our favorite songs. Just thinking of that is enough to send me into a teary mess.
But I can't let you feel like complete garbage. Just as you took care of me, let me do it for you one last time, alright?
I challenge you to 100% all three games. Engage with the story, its characters, their dreams and pain. Let them help you as much as they have helped me. It will hurt, no doubt, but you are stronger than me, so you will be fine.
Heal, and enjoy life. Go see Matt and the boys. Visit your folks, try to mend things with them. Find a job you actually like. And let yourself love another gal as much as you felt for me. Whoever it ends up being will be the luckiest person in the world.
That last part is an order. I don't care, just don't be a widower for the rest of your life. You young and hot as hell, use that!
Yours forever,
Sam
A single drop. That's how it started. He read the letter again, his eyes scanning the familiar handwriting. But as he folded it close, a tear slipped free, tracing his cheek. He wiped it away, only for another to fall.
His breathing hitched. Paper crumpled beneath whitening knuckles as he clenched the letter tighter. A sob broke free, rough and jagged, shaking him. He leaned forward, forehead resting against his knees, as though bracing himself. But the dam had already cracked.
His fingers clawed at his hair, as though trying to anchor himself. Another sob, louder now, echoed in the still corridor. Then another, continuing until resistance gave way in full.
He wailed. It didn't sound like a cry—more akin to the sound of years of pressure exploding, raw and unfiltered. Fists struck the ground, impact reverberating up his arms. He had held it all inside for so long, for her, for himself, for everyone who needed him to be strong. And now, it poured out in shuddering waves that left him trembling on the floor.
Time passed unmeasured. The echoes of his grief faded bit by bit, replaced by a hollow stillness. His muscles ached, his throat raw from screaming. Once a short eternity passed, he sat up, face streaked with tears, and stared at the crumpled letter at the floor.
After a long, trembling breath, he rose. He cleaned the tear-streaked floor and fixed the crumpled paper. A cold shower followed, the icy water biting at his skin but grounding him.
With his soul cleansed, he moved the box of the Emperor's Path to the room, Sam's refuge, how belonging to him alone. No need to avoid it any longer. It had the only television in the house and moving it all somewhere else would be too much trouble, after all.
A quick cleaning to get off all the dust. He wiped down the console, loading the first disc.
Unknown to him, this would mark the beginning of his journey.