[GW2] — Pathetic

     Boy. You look pathetic.

And he was. Hunched over a bucket at the Guild’s infirmary, Fiel was purging his body from all the ale in he had inhaled while trying to win a drinking contest with a hylek earlier in that water-logged tavern in Lion’s Arch.

He lost.

“Yeah, I know,” he muttered to the voice in his throbbing head, spitting out the bile that was hanging at his lips.

Fiel was in a state. He woke up early that day, and he knew, he knew…

His mentor had passed.

A decade prior, the man who had taught Fiel all that he knew, the man who had saved his life, straightened him up, and gave him a purpose and a path towards redemption… stepped into the Mists.

Not in the euphemistic way. The man had gave Fiel all that he owned, bade him farewell, then literally opened a portal, and disappeared.

Gone.

Onto his own, final adventure.

The necromancer retched again. Cursing his stupidity.

     Of course you’re stupid. What did I teach you? Did I save you from the marsh just so you could die at the bottom of an ale barrel a decade later? Are you saying I wasted my time on you?

“No.”

     Then quit acting like a child and clean up.

“You’re not my father.”

     No, I’m not. Never claimed to be. You already have a father. Stop projecting your personal issues onto me.

“Shut up. You’re dead. I know that now. You’re DEAD. I’m arguing with myself.”

     Yes. You are. Maybe you should stop wandering around, shirking on your responsibilities and fucking around like a jackrabbit during the Spring season. Then maybe you’ll get your head out of your ass and put on back straight.

“Hah. Of course you’d say that. Aabel the Hermit. That’s what they called you, the people from the monastery. You were a fucking loner. Probably never touched a living being your whole life. Of course you’d never know what intimacy and tenderness is like.”

     You are missing the point. You are grieving over me. Why.

“Because I CARE, damn you!!”

Fiel had shouted those last words. The infirmary was empty now, fortunately, and they only echoed on golden walls.

     Loss. What have I taught you about it.

Fiel was dizzy. He squeezed his eyes shut, searching through his muddled memories.

     Loss, is unavoidable. Life, is impermanent. What lives, must die. Pain, is temporary.

Pain. Temporary.

“Yeah. But it still hurts.”

     And you go to alcohol because it hurts less. It’s a placebo. A crutch. Allow the pain to pass through you. By denying it, you are keeping it trapped inside you. There, it will fester. Like a wound.

“Why did you have to do this?”

     Because it was my destiny. My choice. Our paths crossed, but they were never meant to remain intertwined for long. People, like the wind, may blow into our lives and stir us in way that would change our course forever. Some are like a breeze, others, a gale. Some are hurricanes that leave us with broken bones and bruised flesh, others are a refreshing zephyr kissing your skin burned by the zenith sun. They come, they go. Some may return. Others won’t. But they all pass, and leave. And so will the pain. Do not trying to hold the wind, lest it tears your fingers off.

“………. I always hated when you talked like that.”

The voice of his mentor in his head chuckled.

     You don’t.