[Flashback] An Ending, Part 1

by **Jack Benefort** on June 23rd, 2013, 1:02 am

23 Of Fall, 509 AV

"The kid can drink, can't he?!"

"No way he can down another one, I'll put 5 Mizas down that he's done for!"

"I'll take that bet! This one's a natural!"

"Come on, then! Drink!"

"Drink, drink, drink!"

It seemed as though every sailor in Zeltiva was gathered around this young man in the kelp bar, getting on towards 19 now, as he downed mug after mug of kelp beer. He was on his 4th now, and fully intended to go for a 5th if this one didn't kill him. 'But if it does, oh well. I've not got much to lose anyways.' He thought to himself. His so-called father was a rich man, easily wealthy enough to make nights like tonight seem as nothing in the family coinpurse. Besides, he spent most of his days resting now, much too old and drained to do any good with this money. It was only right to see it got proper usage.

Finishing that thought, he knocked back the mug and when he leaned forward again, it was empty. The bar seemed to literally explode with cheers and boo's. He wasn't the largest man out there, no doubt that was why the betting was so rampant tonight. No sailor expected someone like Jack to hold his own like this against this much kelp beer. What he had imbibed so far would likely knock most of them on their feet. But Jack wasn't just trying to have a good time tonight. For around a year now nights like this had become a normal thing to him. He had taken to drink shortly after the revelation that Athanasius was not his father. When he was sober, he was wracked with sorrow and confusion, and spent much time forlorn and deep in thought, thoughts that forced him to consider things. Thoughts that challenged him to change, to become something more than a boy in a mans body. So he drank, and drank, and drank, until the thoughts were gone and only his fellows remained.

By now a fifth mug had been passed to him, and the entire bar, or as it seemed to Jack- the entire city- was chanting now, "Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!" He looked out into the crowd around him for a moment and watched as countless Mizas changed hands, neighbors leaned in to make bets, hands were shaken, laughs were shared, many stories doubtlessly being told about the time he drank 7 of these a few months previous. 'They're all here.... For me! This is what I have done! I am the king of these men and women!' Jack thought to himself, his drunkenness taking nearly full control over him now. He climbed up on a table, swaying dangerously side to side, and yelled, "Huzzah!" To which the entire crowd replied, "Drink!" Just as boisterously.

Now his vision became blurry to the point of being useless, and he hurriedly knocked back the mug, starting now to feel a slight fear of his senses leaving him. But as he leaned back to drink, he felt himself falling, and everything went black.

by **Jack Benefort** on June 24th, 2013, 12:14 pm

It was the sound of the gulls that woke Jack from his slumber. The gulls, and the sun rising. As he, with much effort, pulled his eyes open, he began to wonder how he had gotten where he was. He looked around and realized he was in some alley somewhere, he wasn't sure where to be exact. Normal thought started to kick in and he realized that his pockets felt strange. He quickly shoved his hands in them and realized what had happened. All the coin he had taken with him was gone. Coin for what though? Jack wondered these things as he pulled himself up off of the ground and stepped into the street. It wasn't until the sun met his eyes that he remembered fully, because it wasn't until the sun met his eyes that he realized he was hung over. A migraine tore its way through his skull like fire on oil and he almost collapsed, instead taking a knee and grasping his head in his hands. He remembered the debauchery of the night before, and he remembered losing consciousness while trying to impress the crowd. And now here he was, waking in some alley, all his money gone.

But that was no matter. Athanasius had mizas to spare and probably always would. Jack was certain to get a scolding like he always did, sure, but Athanasius was so old and frail now. He would never be able to do anything to stop Jack. To keep him from the family coinpurse. To stop his nights of excitement. With those thoughts complete, Jack assessed that he was near the docks and began to walk into Zeltiva, towards the Old Quarter where he lived. As he walked, he saw things he liked and things he didn't. Here and there were people like him- Passed out, lying in streets and alleyways, the end product of a fun night. And then there were others. Shopkeepers up early, dockworkers, smiths, families and their children. And there were not any friendly faces to be found in Zeltiva for Jack. Other lousy drunks, maybe. But not him. And he knew why. It was because they all knew that Jack had only stayed in Zeltiva to take advantage of his 'fathers' money. And they were right.

Jack thought back to the night he found out about his true identity, nearly a year ago. He remembered not being upset in the moment. But over the coming weeks, things changed. He no longer respected Athanasius as a man or as his father. In time, he grew to loathe him. He felt cheated. He hated Athanasius for not being who he thought he was. He didn't care that it wasn't his fault. He blamed him for his true father's disappearance. He despised him for being what he could never be, and he didn't care that it wasn't rational.

'Maybe I should just leave. Maybe I should leave all of this behind and go be someone else in another place. Where people don't know me, and where I have no one to hate.'

Eventually he reached the large Zeltivan building he called home. He did not know that everything was about to change.

Close the door. *click*
Walk up the stairs. *thud* *thud* *thud*
Open door to study. *click* *creak*
Body behind the desk. He fell asleep reading again. *sigh*
Walk over to desk. *thud* *thud* *creak*
Somethings wrong. *silence*
No... *heartbeat accelerates*
No, it can't be. *heavy breathing*

He's dead.

by **Jack Benefort** on June 25th, 2013, 9:48 pm

Later that evening....

The rest of the day had been a blur. Doctors had been called, and found that Athanasius had not met a painful end. He had indeed fallen asleep in his study. He simply never woke. A peaceful death graciously given in a restless time, the doctors had said, offering some meager token of support. But it didn't mean a lot to Jack. He had left so much unsaid, so much never done. He needed time alone. So that night, after the body had been moved out of the home, and the rest of the city slept, Jack rose and walked through each room.

First he walked into the foyer. It wasn't massive by any stretch of the imagination, but it wasn't small either, and to a child it was huge. A staircase to the left that lead up to the second level of the study. A hall ran straight ahead from the entrance and had a dead end with a window in it, and a door on either side. The left door opened into the lower level of the study. The right door opened into the training room Jack had used as a child, which itself opened into his own room. A hallway running left from the entrance ended in a door that opened into fathers room. The halls were barren of decoration, simply being a hard, brown wood. Jack thought back to one of his earliest memories of this place. He was perhaps 5 years old, and upon entering the home he was struck by what he saw. There was much more in the way of decoration back then, when father still entertained often. Red cloth carpeted the floor, and flags of various different cities hung from the walls. Candles hung from the walls and it all came together to provide a very regal atmosphere. Jack remembered feeling like a prince upon walking into the home that day, surrounded by so much that was regal and majestic. But that was not the case any longer. The halls stood barren and empty, as though the very soul had been sucked from them and they were now but lifeless corpses, testaments to the fact that something used to be there.

Moving on, Jack walked down the hall and into his part of the house, first into his old training room. It was much the same as it had always been. One large window in the wall, a tall, wooden post in the center of the room, and a rack of small, wooden weapons off to the side. Jack recalled the many, many days spent in this room, learning to swing his little wooden sword at the post. He remembered all the days he would hear the other children playing outside, when sometimes he would sneak out and sometimes he wouldn't. He recalled fondly the day he met a particularly nice konti woman and mistook her for a goddess. He even picked up his old wooden sword and started to swing it around. It was light as a feather to him now. He noticed the small indents in the post where he had managed particularly powerful swings and nearly laughed at the prospect of being as weak as a child again. Were he not afraid of destroying the sword, he would give it a try now.

Then, leaving that room, he walked across the hall into the study. He slowly crept into the large room. It was a 2 story room, with the upper part only accessible from the outside staircase. There was a desk on both levels, each one equally covered in parchments, books, ink wells, and just about any other academic paraphernalia you could imagine. The first floor of the study was devoted to books and looked much like a library. Father had been particularly fond history and so most of the books concerned the histories of things. There were histories for different races, cities, cultures, foods, rivers, and more. The second level was devoted more to working. It had several large windows and aside from the desk clutter, was empty.

As Jack looked upon the empty seat behind the desk in front of him, he was overcome. He had been emotional the whole day to be sure, but to see the desk where he lived most of his late life now empty, it affected him deeply. As the tears began to come, he walked across the room and, for the first time, took a seat behind the desk. It was as he sat down that he began to truly lose control.

"What have I done, oh father, what have I done?" He said to himself between sobs. All of his rebellion now seemed the most heinous sin fathomable in his eyes. "You provided everything for me, you were my father when I had none, and I have spat in your face, and squandered your gifts, and now you're gone, and I'm alone!" He spoke to the air. He recalled every night he cursed his fathers name, every miza poorly spent, and he despaired.

But the fact remained that no matter how much this boy despaired, he was not yet a man. The time was not now. And so, on the cusp of becoming a man, of atoning for what he had done and changing the course of his fate, he rather opted to exchange one veil of foolishness for another. It was mostly subconscious. Drinking and debauchery would have to go. But spreading the gifts of learning? Honoring his fathers memory? Yes, yes that would work quite well. A righteous and noble quest to atone for what he had done in his foolishness. But he was simply refusing to look at himself. He was refusing to tackle the issue that he didn't know who he was, he didn't know what he felt, he didn't know what to do. Those could wait for another day, he thought. Another day, far, far away.

by **Eldritch** on August 5th, 2013, 7:57 pm

Jack :

Notes :

If you have any comments/questions/concerns about your grade please PM me and we will work something out.

Keep on writing!

Completed [Flashback] An Ending, Part 1