By Lexi Anders
There are some things in life that make you stop and wonder. Potentially rethink all the decisions you’ve made. Sometimes nothing special happens to trigger them- maybe it’s just the sudden realization that you have been unhappy for a very long time and have just been sitting in it rather than trying to change anything. Sometimes it’s experiencing something whether good or bad that you never expected or considered what it would be like if it were to occur. Sometimes, as in the present case, you are faced with the possibility that you may not outlive tomorrow and you have to think if you’ve lived a good life.
Altinius knew for a fact he had lived a good life, at least to those around him. At the age of 5 he had manifested marvelous superhuman powers that caught the attention of the Protectorate Counsel. Soon after, the eldest member had a vision that Altinius would be the one to defeat Zildovich, a man known to others as the Knight of Doom. Zildovich was previously a member of the Counsel himself, but his violent tendencies led to his expulsion and eventually his own regime that pushed the Counsel itself into a secret society.
All that aside, Altinius had done nearly everything the prophecy had spoken of: His power grew in strength under the tutelage of his Counsel Members and soon they had reestablished a system of justice that pushed the Dark Regime to the recesses of the land. Altinius had only to defeat the Knight of Doom himself and his destiny would be complete.
But this showdown didn’t seem very forthcoming, Zildovich was too much of a coward to face him head-on. They were left to slowly weaken their forces until the regime became desperate enough to throw off their tricks and instead lash out like a cornered rat. It was rather a boring time for a hero. Waiting for that day to come. Perhaps this is when Altinius began to realize he wasn’t quite happy with his life.
But, just as this horrible idea began to weigh him down, he met Ophilia. She was unlike anyone he had ever met before. She thought little of the war waged between the Counsel and the Regime. She was an aspiring musician who poured herself into her work and when they met she barely glanced at him.
Altinius wasn’t particularly impressed with her when they first met. He had merely come up to thank her for entertaining the party he was hosting for this year’s heroes. She seemed in a bit of a hurry and said thanks and left. It was after the event, he stayed contemplating life when she came back in.
He was sitting on a table, the room was left a bit of a mess, but the cleaners wouldn’t come till morning. Great, we’ve accomplished so much. We can openly toast.
He sighed, the Counsel didn’t want him to make any more moves other than the routine. He felt like they were content with where they were, with the people clinging to their aide. Was it wrong to be content with that? There wasn’t a time he remembered where he had a moment of peace. Maybe he just didn’t know how to accept it.
“Umm, sorry to bother you,” he looked up and saw her standing at the door, now in sweatpants. “They let me in to get my wallet. Have you seen it?”
“Oh,” he got up and looked around, “No, I haven’t.”
She went to the stage and looked around and then stood up with it.
“Here, okay, sorry to bother you.”
“No, you’re fine. I ought to be leaving anyway.” he stretched and they went out to the hallway to push the elevator button (15 floors wasn’t hard for him to do, but he figured he may as well go with her).
“You were in quite a hurry earlier.”
“Yeah, I had an interview.”
“Not sticking with the music business?”
“Oh I am. I was conducting the interview for a potential band member, I’ve seen some of her work and I think it could fit my style.”
The elevator arrived and they both got on.
“So it went well?”
“I think so. Bands get reformed all the time . . . but there’s nothing like that classic team, both for branding and just good friends. You know?”
“I can imagine,” he agreed.
“I mean, you’ve got your own team, right? The whole Counsel is with you.”
“I guess you could say that. It doesn’t often feel like teamwork though . . .”
“Maybe you need to branch out a bit, get a crew outside of that.”
“Make my own band?” he laughed.
“Why not? Play anything?”
“Nope,” he shook his head, “I sing though.”
“Try me.”
He took this as a prompt to demonstrate and he cleared a frog from his throat suddenly nervous.
“I don’t have anything prepared.” he said a bit lamely as the elevator came to the bottom and opened for them.
“Hah, well, prep and sign up for an audition.” she pulled a navy blue card from her pocket.
It had her picture with a guitar and some info about her music.
“I’ll look into it.” He took it.
He forgot entirely about the interaction until about a month later they had another event thanking some donors that supported a newly opened hospital. She and a crew played jazz for them and he recognized her some way through the event.
She took a break in the middle and he got to talk to her a bit and hear about how the band was shaping up. After that she became something of a regular for their parties until she was asked onto a bigger show by connecting with a wealthy patron. She soon signed a deal and started working on an album.
In the meantime the Counsel had decided to negotiate a peace with the Regime. They insisted that Altinius being the chosen one didn’t mean he had to kill or eradicate the Regime, but merely bring an end to their oppression in some way. This didn’t make much sense to him, seeing as they had told him something else his entire life, but he tried to accept it.
Zildovich however did not seem keen on accepting any of their terms, things that seemed entirely appropriate and reasonable. No use of capital punishment, advocates in court and areas of jurisdiction.
And within a moment the onslaught increased and Altinius found himself on call for emergencies weeks straight. The regime somehow got its hands on a lot more dangerous weaponry. His moments of respite became very seldom, but there was some comfort in listening to that jazz. Perhaps because it brought him back to that time of peace, but he would like to think it was the story of the music itself. It was chaotic at times, but it still fit together. He wrote her once or twice saying how much he appreciated her music and was pleasantly surprised with a reply.
“Hey Altinius,
Thanks for the encouragement, I’m glad my music could speak to you. It sounds like it’s been a crazy year for the both of us. I’m sure you’re busy, but if you’d like to come to a concert it’s on me.”
Inside was a ticket to her show. He didn’t make it until the last song in their set and didn’t have much chance to talk to her anyway. So he wrote her again and this time she gave her number. It was hard to say how he ended up liking her or how she liked him, but they did
She scolded him about working all the time and complained about the Counsel on his behalf, but what could be done?
Then one day he came back from a fight, a bit bruised and scraped, but otherwise okay. They settled into a chopper and were being taken away, he had a bit of a headache and was hot and sweaty. His fellow hero was trying to explain in detail the moves he used to beat some of his opponents today which Altinius didn’t bother trying to follow. The moment they touched the ground he fainted.
He awoke in his room hooked to an IV.
“You’re awake!” Ophilia exclaimed.
“What happened?” he looked around confused. “Was I poisoned?”
“Let me get the doctor.”
She disappeared and a moment later the doctor came in. It was his personal doctor, who regularly fixed him up, but today he looked less cheerful. Ophilia came and sat with him to hold his hand.
“Gill, what’s the damage?”
“Altinius, this is going to be hard to hear.”
He sat up a little. “Well, I feel fine now, don’t worry I’ll recover quick enough.”
“We ran some tests and . . . you’ve got cancer.”
“Cancer,” he repeated back. It wasn’t the sort of thing one would joke about, he believed it, but also didn’t really believe it. “So, what’s that look like? I need chemo? How long will that take?”
“Listen to me Alt, this is going to be a lot harder for you if you think you can get back up the next day and go back to business.”
“Well . . . but how long will it take?”
“I can’t say for sure, but it could be over a year or several years. The problem is your body is your own enemy now, it’s trying to do things it shouldn’t do . . . and all your wounds and stress have allowed it to multiply faster as you heal.”
“And?”
“And, well, it’s a pretty late stage Alt, it shouldn’t be, but it is. We’ll do our best, but you absolutely can’t go back to fighting right now.”
He licked his lips.
“But, how will they survive without me?”
“They’ve managed before.” Gill shook his head.
“They never really needed you Alt,” Ophilia added, “They just wrapped you up in their web with their stories. You did some good, but you have to let them manage.”
“Ophilia, you don’t understand, I’m the only one who can defeat Zildovich, if I stop fighting, he’ll probably take over everything.”
“You silly man,” she brushed his hair. “Zildovich is only human too, he can die the same way anyone can. I wonder if he’s not already sick with how no one has seen him in so long.”
He frowned and felt a headache coming again. “He hasn’t been seen because he’s a coward hiding behind a shield of lives. Anyway, I’ll need to speak to the Counsel about this.”
“We did. And they agreed to let you go. It can be however you want, quietly to avoid a fuss or we can have a celebration to honor your service.” Ophilia said.
“But- I need to speak to them.”
Gill nodded, “I’ll send a message for you.” and he left them alone.
Ophilia sighed. “I’m sorry, this is really hard, but we want to be upfront about what is going to happen so you can deal with it.”
He remained silent.
“I’ll give you some space to process.” she said and stepped out.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. Heroes don’t get sick. Normal people sure, women and children tragically, but him? The chosen one?
He stood up and pulled the IV drip over to the window and looked out. The world looked the same as usual. His yard was in a compound gated off with security, smoke rose in the distance. The yard itself and the inside of the house was beautiful, but the rest was a bit like a prison. The Counsel had gifted him the facility when he turned 16. Before that he had lived with various members of the Counsel since they all taught him part of their skills.
Maybe he would be relegated to working on some tech team or something. How awkward would that be, he was known by everyone, how would they receive him knowing he had lost his place- that he failed to save them? Could he really accept this? Maybe he would get better and then go back into action- but how long could he be out before he was irreconcilably estranged from his former life?
Other thoughts swirled in his head, how this could signal the loss of everything- his house, the people he could closest consider his family, Ophilia. And whether he should go down blazing instead and force a final showdown, this was a tempting thought though he had little reason to think he could make that happen. He could certainly go in and keep fighting until he fell, but that would just be idiotic, if he was going to fight he should at least have a chance of actually accomplishing his goal.
When he finally came to see the Counsel he was at first relieved, they smiled and welcomed him in, no differently than they used to. But it wasn’t long before they disappointed him.
“Well, you’ve done a lot of good for us, Altinius, but we can’t make you continue on while being sick.”
“I will if you need me though.”
“You should really prioritize your health, we would all be devastated to lose you. So, why don’t we plan on giving you some leave time and we can take this up another day, huh?”
This turned into a month receiving treatment and then he asked to speak with them again. They sent back an invitation to his own recognition ceremony.
Ophilia knew how much this upset him, but she also couldn’t sympathize too well.
“You didn’t even like what they were doing anyway! Just let it go, if they’re going to cut you off. You don’t need them anyway.”
“Hah, would you let me go back to being a hero apart from them?”
“NO.” she said firmly, “But that doesn’t mean you can’t save people’s lives and help people. There’s plenty of humanitarian needs that don’t involve beating yourself up every day.”
“They didn’t even say anything about the prophecy on here,” he turned the paper over again.
“Yeah, what did you expect? They made it up. I’ve told you for a long time they were taking advantage of you. Filling your head with visions of grandeur and now when you might possibly dishonor them they have to pretend like they never said anything.”
“But, they were true, the things they said, I had power that no one else had. And the Marveux Mizheur wouldn’t have made something like that up, he took an oath to use his powers for good.”
“I can argue about this all day, but let’s just focus on the good stuff, huh? Your life gets to slow down a bit, my life is slowing down. I’m not going anywhere- in fact, maybe this is time for us, don’t you want to get married?”
“Don’t bring that into this, I’m not trying to say you’re not enough or we can’t be happy, I just . . . don’t think you understand. What it’s like, to believe that you’re special, to do amazing things so many times that it no longer surprises you, to be recognized and appreciated by people you didn’t even know you touched- and then for all of that to be taken away.”
“You don’t have to lose all of that- it might just look different in this stage of life.”
Things were tense with her for a while. He attended the recognition with her faking a smile feeling betrayed with every handshake and warm hug or sympathetic pat. Feeling patronized by the compliments of how good he looked when he knew his cheeks were gaunt and he had lost weight. And when all was done they gave him a toast and wished him joy in his newfound freedom, as though this is what he always wanted.
Upon returning home they offered him a new house to accommodate his new situation- it was in a normal neighborhood- he was no longer invited to any Council meetings, and the new reaction he got from strangers was a mixture of disappointment and anger as if he didn’t care about people anymore.
It was the lowest point in his life. He was moody and Ophilia didn’t know how to put up with it. She tried to be gentler and more sensitive, but her patience wore out. She started spending a lot more time with the band again.
“If we’re not going to work this out,” she said over dinner one day, “We should break up.”
He looked up at her, emotions masked behind the perpetual haggard look he wore. “Would you even want to waste your time on me at this point?”
“I’m not sure. But if the answer is no, then it seems like we’re just dragging each other through the mud. I’m not happy and I’m not making you happy either.”
“Well, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” he picked at his food, he had no appetite, “I’m not very interesting now, huh?
“Not everything is about you,” she huffed, “It takes the both of us for a relationship, and I don’t think either of us are helping each other very well. I still care about you, but I don’t think this is beneficial.”
“Oh well, go back to your band, it’s what you dream about anyway. Be happy, be free.” he said this airily as though this wasn’t a problem at all.
“Come on Alt, can we have a proper goodbye at least? Can we both be sad about the right thing and wish the best for each other?”
He looked at her and took a breath, “I’m sorry to make this hard for you-” he wanted to blame her for not being understanding and show her how this was only for her sake since he was such a burden to her, but she didn’t want that. She didn’t see things that way and he knew- as much as he wanted to make himself the only victim here. “I will miss you, Ophilia, you’ve been good to me. You didn’t give up on me when other people did, you tried really hard to help me and I just couldn’t accept it. I still can’t accept it. I don’t want this to be the right thing, but you’ve been right a couple times before . . . so maybe today is one of those days.” he chuckled.
“I’m sorry to hurt you,” she said, “But I will keep hurting you more if we stay together.”
“Well, go on then, there’s nothing else we can do.” he shrugged.
She stood up and came around and kissed him on the forehead and smoothed his hair and squeezed his hand. “You’ll make it through this, I know. Don’t give up just yet.”
“Okay,” he replied, keeping back the tears.
“Okay . . . goodbye . . .” she said and walked out his door.
And so he was left mostly to himself. His doctor became more of a friend to him and tried inviting him to a couple things. How do you introduce yourself with his kind of story though? Oh, yeah, I’m famous for what I used to do . . . and now, just slowly dying.
Was it worth making new friends at this point? Why didn’t he have real friends before who wouldn’t just discard him like the counsel had? So much for a well lived life. Where were the fond memories laughing together, the moments of magic, the deep conversations at midnight? He had a glimpse of that in Ophilia, but it never was a good idea to rely on her so much.
A life well lived. He didn’t know if it was possible to achieve now, but it didn’t hurt to try.
Octopencil 