Chapter 81: Burial
His mind was wrapped in a dense fog of questions.
From beginning to end, he had not found any normal event during his journey in the ruin. He was beginning to understand how certain scenarios were truly complex.
He would never have imagined before that immersion technologies would allow him to forget his previous identity for a brief period of time.
He had already started theorizing about the possibilities that explained his current situation.
He limped through the cobblestone streets of Miracle City. The wounds hidden by his bandages had not improved much, causing him deep pain.
His body was very fragile at that moment. Like a tree without roots.
His theories progressed rapidly and leaned mainly toward one kind of idea.
According to his own assumptions, probably every player who had entered had to fulfill a specific role and execute it successfully to overcome the first stage.
The trials made one thing clear; especially considering that his purpose had been that of a storyteller from the beginning.
The game preserved a policy of never delivering trials that would prove impossible to fulfill... And that was what every player trusted.
But those concerns remained in the background. He had already guessed that it was a long challenge, woven with the "purposes" of each one.
His original character had been a woodcutter who took care of his sick mother, cut wood during the day, and told stories at night in the tavern.
His role was easy to identify.
However, he had to discover precisely what the key points were to fulfill it perfectly.
The city today is... strangely subdued.
He observed his surroundings with meticulous eyes.
He did not dare to miss any substantial detail. The inhabitants who used to greet him with optimism now remained meditative, with lowered gazes and somber eyes.
A veil of confusion and anguish floated in the atmosphere.
He walked toward the city’s central office, in charge of Chris, an old friend of his father.
The implanted memory provided him with enough information to move naturally.
Suddenly, a large-built man intercepted him.
"Gabriel, boy, you look terrible! Have you fought with an ox?"
For a moment, he even found the comparison hilarious. He responded with a calm voice:
"No. It was just a tiger, Derek."
Derek, the city’s best-known butcher and one of his regular listeners at the tavern, opened his eyes in surprise and suspicion.
"If you tell it at the tavern and I’ve had three beers, I swear I’ll believe you."
He felt the simplicity and honesty with which he conveyed his ideas, so he quickly tried to avoid him.
"I... now have important things to do."
"I wouldn’t dare interfere in your affairs. But your condition is terrible. How important is it?"
"I need to go to the office and meet with Chris. My mother could not endure the terrible conditions of her illness and finally left us yesterday..."
The butcher could only offer a crooked smile, full of awkwardness and sincere condolences.
"Your mother was a warrior. Just like your father was. I... I’m so sorry. Let me accompany you."
Gabriel tried to refuse several times. But his kindness was effusive and persistent.
Finally, after brief negotiation, he accepted. Having a healthy and strong man by his side could be of great help.
Both walked together toward their destination, wrapped in a cloud of anguish and awkwardness.
"Your mother was excellent. It is a great loss for all of us who knew her..."
Gabriel simply nodded.
The memory he built from the acquired recollections was limited, but he knew enough about the original son’s life.
The woman had been virtuous, of natural kindness, and had raised her son alone after the father’s death.
Walking under a heavy atmosphere, they finally arrived at the central office. The process was not extraordinarily difficult or complex.
Chris received them with open arms and listened to every word with respectful attention. He offered his condolences and immediately made a cart available.
"Gabriel, Derek... Don’t worry. I will take care of the rest personally. I will speak with the necessary people and organize her burial."
Gabriel grabbed his hands and thanked him sincerely.
He recognized that he had to execute his role perfectly.
Even if it was nothing more than an intricate illusion, with an extremely realistic and enduring design.
Soon they traveled with Derek to the family cabin, where he had shared an entire life with his mother.
Under the scorching sun, both sweated profusely. With every hundred meters traveled, the path became more winding than ever.
When they finally arrived, they carefully transported the body wrapped in a blanket.
"To think that this day would come..." Derek murmured, his voice hoarse.
Gabriel responded calmly:
"It was inevitable. But even so... I would have wished this day would never come."
The butcher only patted his shoulder, causing terrible pain that Gabriel disguised with a stoic expression.
When they finally had to return to the city again, the journey became even more silent than usual. Only the residual echo of nature accompanied them.
In the old wooden cart they transported the lifeless body, firmly wrapped in a blanket.
They needed to hurry or the heat would soon have a devastating consequence. They definitely wanted to avoid that.
His gaze went from the front to behind him. Complexity began to cloud his eyes. Since his emotions were chaotic.
In his mind he did not ignore the reality of the illusion and that the implanted memories tried to affect him, but a growing anguish lodged in his chest.
He sighed and no longer held it back. He would act as the scenario desired.
Baron Miracle had a task and he would fulfill it. He would delve deeply into the experience of a storyteller, like an elegant bard.
Trying to observe any crack in that trial.
The cart stopped in front of the city’s small chapel, where Gabriel stopped every day. A large congregation of citizens and acquaintances stood outside, as the news had spread.
Chris had fulfilled his word perfectly. Intervening to quickly secure the support of the priest, a compassionate old man.
He was surprised that no prior process before the burial was necessary. Apparently the trial omitted key details about common logic.
The process was destined to be an ordinary burial. With its respective prayers and the community’s accompaniment to the cemetery.
In front of everyone stood Gabriel. The man who had been most affected by that incident. Many townspeople knew the famous perseverance of the woodcutter and his sick mother.
Today they saw the end of that story.
But without knowing it, the beginning of another.