That's how I met him.
I wouldn't say I was thrilled to see a stranger in my home. But I wouldn't say I was so shocked by his appearance that I gasped and clutched my head.
More like in between, between the familiar and the impossible.
After all, no one had access to my abode. Or so I thought, or I hadn't noticed the hole dug by some ill-intentioned moles.
Too many "ors," which meant too little truth. In any case, I knew he couldn't have just wandered here. Perhaps I should tell what happened next? After that very first meeting.
A lot changed afterward. The stranger, who introduced himself as Avaley Le Fay, told me, no, more like suggested, that I create mass life.
Though even without him, I'd been thinking about it. Expand the boundaries, not settle for a single creation. But it seemed to me I couldn't repeat the miracle. Create something so beautiful, so flawless, so close to me.
"And? What next? Is that it? All the beauty of your story?" Her laughter rang out like wine long hidden in a cellar.
That's exactly how long she held it in before losing the game of "Who laughs first."
"You again, you damned witch." My voice flat, like Monday was looming ahead.
"I may be a witch, but you're cursed far worse, hee-hee-hah!"
Laughter.
The same hateful one. If there were an award for the most irritating cackle, she'd win it in the first minute.
It's all deception.
Not the illusory kind. The kind that's painful to recall. Now it's clearer: this whole theater was staged by the witch. Shards of memories, our shards.
But why? Does she want me to cry? Hilarious. Doesn't seem like crybabies survive in her rules. So the best way to solve the riddle is to ask the one who posed it.
"What's the point of this whole circus?" I asked.
"Circus? Are your memories really just a circus to you?" she sneered venomously.
(What a bitch.)
"I'm not talking about the memories. I'm asking why you need them. If you wanted to get me emotional, congratulations, it worked. So what's next?"
"Ee-hee-hee, you have such an unpleasant face... Just looking at you makes me nauseous! But fine, I'll explain the rules of my game."
Tch. Here we go.
(And who's got it easy right now?)
"The rules are simple. It's a game of endurance. Whoever holds out against me wins."
"And if not?" I interrupted, as if trying to knock her pride out from under her.
"Then even your already useless tears won't help!"
So that's how it is. She'd been watching me the whole time. Watching me wander through my own past. Watching the memories stab into me with their sharp edges again.
Not a bad move. Too good to call it bad. But the point? Where's the point? "Endurance." A word that sounded like a sentence.
And suddenly she vanished. Why? Did she get lonely? Want a date? No, out of the question. Then maybe she decided to explain the rules of a new game? No.
Perhaps death had affected me this way. Since I couldn't even answer a simple question. Though... who said it was simple?
My memories remained. As if everything that just happened was merely a commercial break before the movie.
After the conversation with the mysterious man, though... how mysterious was he really? Giving his name right away isn't very enigmatic. More like he was just settling into a new role. Or maybe I'm digging too deep into emptiness.
But his words stuck in me.
'The world can't be colorful if there are no ones to give it colors.'
A simple phrase.
A painful phrase.
A phrase that made me think about myself.
Too many phrases.
Who am I? What am I? Why did I appear? If I can create life... then who am I?
Creator.
That's when I understood: I am the one who gave birth. The one who became king of his creations. With one wave of my hand, I made a world. A world I called boundless.
Boundless. A word with no end, only a beginning. But a world is empty if not filled with colors, and I looked at her face, surprised, or perhaps proud. Proud of her father.
And I told her she wouldn't be alone.
A lie.
!?
Question.
Surprise.
Absurdity.
Cruelty.
Thoughts swirled into a point, drilling straight into my brain.
"Didn't you consider me the most important? Didn't you say you'd never leave me alone? Tell me..."
Quiet crying. Tears that cut the heart.
"Father!"
...
Ai...
I wanted to hug her with all my strength and never let go. Wipe away the tears and say something warm.
But... I took a step and felt pain. Sharp, piercing every bone. I looked down, my stomach was pierced by a katana. A Japanese sword, but without a hilt.
Blood gushed from my mouth. I tried to breathe but choked on my own blood. Burning pain. Blood boiling, ready to incinerate the body.
"Eh-heh-heh-heh-ha-ha!"
Laughter. Long, like the Great Wall of China.
"There it is! The tastiest part! The start of my magnificent game!"
Her face twisted, as if about to crack.
Now it's clear.
Witch.
Game.
Memories.
Meaning.
All of it for one thing, to catch me and finish me off.
And then pass it off as suicide.
I wonder how he is? I wonder when this will all end.
Ai... forgive me.
The game has begun. The witch made the first move. Will Enua hold out and respond?