Guilt distorts choices. It convinces us that pain is a destiny and that remaining in it is less frightening than attempting to break free.
"Ahh... this could cause an unnecessary war all because of some jerk who won't accept his fate."
Caerius sighs, heading toward the freezer. The minimal and worn neon lights illuminate the dark corners around him with a dirty subtlety. His steps, once lively and quick, are now slow and deliberate, like discouragement surfacing.
"Don't worry about it, Caerius. At the end of the day, I just hope this whole mess doesn't affect Morrow-en down here..."
He grabs a few more energy drink cans before returning inside the warehouse.
"Damn it, Rusk! That kitchen stinks of filth, you lazy bastard!"
Caerius says, jumping up behind Rusk, who was sitting in his chair, applying a playful headlock and smiling.
"You always treat me like a slob, it's not my fault, man!"
He retorts with an extremely exaggerated smile, but he notices his friend's unease.
"Caerius, man... after work, we could grab a drink and ta—"
"Hmmmm... what's up, Rusk? Trying to play psychologist? HAHAHAHAHA! How Hilarious."
Caerius interrupts him with an animated gesture, full of his usual sarcasm.
"Relax, bro. Your brother here is tough as nails. I... I'm fine."
He ends the talk, patting Rusk's shoulder and turning his back, returning to his setup and collapsing into his chair with an awkward elegance.
Caerius spends the next two consecutive hours handling requests faster than they arrive—a wasted natural talent, a better life guaranteed ahead of him, but by choice... he decides to stay beneath those to whom he should be an equal. Beneath Vallum.
Exhaustion. Weight. Memories...
"I guess that's enough for today. Enough to pay the electricity and water bills, and buy some treats and services with beautiful ladies of honor. What a good life..."
Rusk yawns and smiles, pushing his chair back and stretching his arms.
"Ow, Caerius, I'm heading over to Zack's place for a visit. You coming, man?"
He asks Caerius, whose eyes were still glued to the monitor, his fingers quickly typing.
"I need to do a few more requests, you know how it is... the bar tab is already sky-high, and I need to pay it off before they come after me and slit my throat."
Caerius says in his usual tone, still facing forward and merely raising his hand in a "go ahead" gesture.
"Go on, you little jerk. When I'm free, I'll drop by to get wasted with you guys..."
Rusk feels awkward. He knows something has been wrong with Caerius for a while—and suspicion already lurks in his mind. But whenever he tries to help him, Caerius cuts him off at the root. It's a feeling of uselessness with his own equal.
He doesn't say anything, doesn't prolong the conversation, doesn't try to force anything. He just turns and says:
"You don't have to carry this pressure all by yourself, bro. If you want to talk, I'm here."
Rusk speaks in a serious tone that sends shivers through Caerius, who merely responds with a knowing smile that his friend recognizes.
...
Rusk had left minutes ago, the warehouse was empty... calm. The ceiling fan spun deliberately above his head, as if trying to dissipate the exhaustion that hangs over Caerius's back.
He places his hands on his forehead before pulling his curly hair—gray with dark blonde highlights—back.
A sigh.
"Screw it... I'm not going to worry about other people's lives. I'll just keep doing mine, acting the way I always do. Regardless of what happens some time from now..."
Even with those words, he feels something activating inside him because of what is happening. Arthur... HP... Vallum. Everything awakened a feeling that, over time, he had managed to reduce; he felt it less often. And that something returns like a metal bar hitting his stomach.
Blame of chance? Maybe. Blame for trying to mask this feeling from others? He doesn't know... he just knows he deserves all of it. From start to finish... every day in Morrow-en.
"Son of a bitch..."
Pressure.
His thought about Arthur is one of anger and incomprehension—this causes a feeling of hypocrisy, and he knows very well why.
He stands up, turning off each setup calmly. The torn curtains around him flutter with the fan's spin, resembling his own restlessness with everything.
"I think all of this calls for some vodka and energy drink..."
He says, a slight smile replacing his previous expression.
Aaah... Morrow-en, after Rusk and Caerius's encounter, you became so melancholic—it was ironic, to say the least.
The soles of his boots stick to the narrow street pavement; clouds in the night sky filter the natural moonlight, and the neon lights help illuminate the rest that is missing. His steps stop in front of a bar: "Morrow's Rest," a place of refuge amidst that melancholic and neon disaster.
Clink-Clink!
Caerius enters, the sound of laughter and the strong smell of cheap cigarette smoke fill his senses. It's a familiar feeling; he remembers when he was a child and got into trouble with fucked-up drunks and grumpy old men.
"Look who's here, it's Caerius! You little brat!"
Says a man in a circle of old men playing Truco, practically betting their own heads.
"It's been a long time since I've seen you here... DAMN IT, I WON AGAIN! NEXT ONE COME UP! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Caerius stops, feeling nostalgia take over his body. The bar, those people—everything is part of his past and now his present. It relieves him, but... something is missing.
"What have you been doing all this time, brat? I never see you here anymore, I just see you walking around the streets looking like a lowlife; I even ran into Nemis on the way here. HAHAHAHA! ANOTHER ONE! LUCK SMILED ON ME TODAY!!"
The grumpy man slams his beer mug on the table, laughing loudly along with some others around him.
"Everyone here is a lowlife, old Din. There are just those with more presence and style, like that guy... Caerius, right? of course. And there are finished and decaying old men like you."
Caerius replies with a loud laugh, pure sarcasm and mockery. He has loved provoking the people at the bar since he was a kid. They are like his family.
"HAHAHAHA, GOOD! It seems like we're all getting back in the game... it relieves me to see everyone together again. Come on, kid, drink up! Have at it!"
Din stands up, banging his hand on the table and raising his mug.
"TODAY IT'S ALL ON ME, DRINK UNTIL YOUR STOMACHS EXPLODE!!!"
Everyone in the bar screams in salute to Caerius, and of course... for being able to drink until they vomit their own liver. Raising their bottles and mugs, everyone toasts, "WELCOME BACK, YOU BRAT!" shouts a man next to Din.
Caerius puts his hand to his face and shakes his head, unable to contain the happiness of seeing his dysfunctional family so animated. He feels that warmth again... Cae?
...
He sits down at the counter.
"How long has it been since you were here last? Young Halvorn."
A bartender approaches. Helvik was his name: a mediator amidst the family chaos of Morrow's Rest, almost a patriarch alongside old Din.
"I knew you missed me, but not this much, Helvik."
The boy smiles.
"Ugh, it's not that. I'm just worried about the money you owe the bar and..."
The bartender stops, Caerius placing an envelope on the counter and pushing it towards him.
"I guess you don't have to worry about that anymore. Also, I'll have the usual... on Din's tab, I'm scarce these days."
Helvik takes the envelope, doesn't open it, doesn't check. Even though Caerius was late on payments, he wouldn't try to rob anyone. He just offers an awkward smile and tosses the envelope into the drawer. Even if he doesn't want to admit it, he was also happy to know that his little boy was safe.
"As you wish, Caerius Halvorn."
The bartender turns and starts preparing the boy's drink. His hands move gently, focusing on the smallest details: vodka, some fruits, and energy drink—the kid's preference.
"Nothing has changed... that's comforting. Old Din is still betting like a lunatic. Eh... I'm surprised he hasn't died yet betting his life."
Caerius waves to the lunatic gamblers, who retort by showing him the middle finger. "Go fuck yourself!" Din shouts, starting to fall into a losing streak, no surprise there.
"Band of ill-mannered sons of bitches."
The boy from the suburbs says with satisfaction. Satisfaction at being in a place where he can feel lighter... less worried. A genuine smile opens up...
"You're not much different from them, Halvorn."
Helvik points out, shaking the drink inside a container before opening it and pouring it into his glass.
"You've always been a kid who likes to cause trouble, I'm surprised to see you whole. It's been 1 year since you've been here, I admit... losing a loyal customer like you is out of the question."
Helvik smiles, Caerius takes a gulp of his strong drink while the bartender wipes the counter with a cloth.
"I've been busy, working hard to save up a good amount of money to pay off all my debts... and try to keep living here more lightly."
The boy sighs.
Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock...
"It's that thing again, isn't it? Caerius."
The question is short and direct, hitting Caerius like a spear in the form of an unknown. His gaze shifts away from the bartender.
"What are you talking about? Damn it, Helvik. I'm the one who should be getting drunk here. It's not cool for a bartender to drink during work hours."
He deflects the question again, as if defending against blades... and each short answer is just a quick patch-up before the next wound.
"You and Rusk have this terrible habit of worrying about me. Relax... I'm fine. It's just... tiredness. Really, Helvik, I don't want you to waste breaths worrying about me."
Helvik walks; whoever looks at him doesn't notice that he is truly worried about poor Caerius, but...
"Don't take me for an idiot, Halvorn. But I understand you, and probably... you don't want to talk about it now. The bar is full; enjoy it. We don't know when the last moment will be. But... you don't have to carry this weight on your back for the rest of your life. You are killing yourself inside, and you think this is the way...
one hour you're going to have to face this as a truth, Caerius."
The boy's eyes widen; Rusk and now Helvik say the same thing. For a moment he almost cries; then, something inside him snaps shut like a padlock with the key thrown into the abyss. He knows they are right, but he decides to punish himself this way. He feels that his sentence is to feel that for the rest of his life—while living in the filth.
...
"You punish yourself too much... for something that was caused by your naivety, for having been just a child with no idea of the consequences."
Caerius opens his mouth to speak, his tongue retracts; his teeth clench. "I can't..." he thinks. His mind almost gives way to the alcohol; but the pain speaks louder, and he feels he is not even worthy of sharing his pain with his equals. What torment...
"Even if you think so, Caerius... this torment is not the solution—"
CRACK!!!
Helvik is interrupted by the main bar door, which is opened abruptly.
The main bar door opens abruptly. Everyone stops and looks at who entered: Nemis. Hand on the back of her neck, the other on her hip, sighing.
....
"ALRIGHT!!!! ANOTHER ONE OF OUR FAMILY IS BACK!!!! LET'S DRINK MORE!!!!" shouts a man, banging his mug repeatedly; the whole bar cheers.
The girl enters with slow steps.
"Aaah, dear Nemis! Good to see you!"
Old Din drops his cards and walks up to her, hugging her tightly and bringing his face close to her ear:
"— I'm not very lucid to talk to the kid... take care of this for me, little one. I know you're mature enough to handle this for me."
Nemis rolls her eyes, pushing the old man away.
"You can't control your damn vice, Din. And now you want to dump your shit on my back..."
She says in a thick tone, with no real contempt or even anger in her voice.
"I'll take care of him, and you, go home and sleep. Now. No contesting."
She says, before walking away, towards Caerius.
"Thank you..." is all that damned grumpy old man says, before finishing his bets and going home... empty-handed, but happy to have seen his two young ones once more.
Creak... tap, tap...
Nemis's steps are calm; she yawns sleepily. She sits down next to Caerius and rests her elbows on the counter.
Frrt... frrt... fwoosh!
The girl lights her cigarette and takes a long drag, releasing the smoke into the air above Helvik's head.
"It's... surprising. Seeing everyone gathered. And you, what will you have, Nemis?"
"Cognac with lemon and a little ice."
Helvik nods, before turning to fetch the ingredients for the girl's drink, but casts a look: "I'll leave him to you."
....
....
....
"What is it, huh?"
Caerius asks, burying his head between his arms on the counter.
"Didn't I tell you to meet me, and that I wanted to have a conversation with you?"
She says, taking another long drag and releasing the smoke with deliberate calm.
"Ugh, you know I hate the smell of that shit. And yes, I know you asked to meet. But I already know what you want to talk to me about, and I'm not in the mood to get into that subject at all."
Caerius slaps the counter and drags the glass to his lips, taking long gulps.
"How long are you going to keep being a coward? Everyone is here for you, trying to show you a vision beyond this distorted 'I deserve it' of yours."
Nemis turns to Caerius.
"Look at me when I talk to you. You're not a child anymore, Caerius."
Caerius looks down, his eyes fixed on his feet, sweat starting to bead on his forehead, and his eyes beginning to search for something to cut off the subject, moments before meeting Nemis's gaze. The bar turns into a soundproof glass box just for the two of them.
"I already said, and I repeat... I AM FINE. Don't insist, don't be annoying, damn it. I know how to take care of myself. I know how to deal with my choices, I know..."
"If you knew, you wouldn't be in this situation. Caerius, do you think we like seeing you in this deplorable state? Rusk, Zack, Din, and Helvik. Do you think they like seeing you like this? Do you think Naeris would be happy seeing you so humiliated like this?"
That name explodes within him: Naeris. He didn't want to hear it; it was the name of someone important. But still...
"I know you all want the best for me... I know. But..."
CRACK!!!
"SHE DIED, CAERIUS! SHE IS DEAD!"
Nemis screams, her fist colliding against the counter. Everyone stops at that moment. The bar falls silent.
"You are selfish, do you think this only affects you? EVERYONE HERE IS AFFECTED BY IT, EVERYONE! And guess what... even so, they don't punish themselves, they don't crucify their lives because of it. You are one of the few here who could honor Morrow-en and its people... one of the few who can get out of this crap. But no: the poor little guy prefers to KEEP SCREWING HIMSELF HIS WHOLE LIFE!! WORKING FOR CRUMBS!! All because of one slip-up that wasn't because you wanted it, Caerius."
The words burn Caerius inside; his legs tremble; his eyes sting. He bites his lip, holding back the tears.
"You don't understand, Nemis."
He gets up from the stool, his hands resting on the counter. His voice was slurred by the alcohol, his hair partially covering his face, his breathing unregulated.
"How can I live well? How can I afford the luxury of moving on when the guilt for the death of the most important person here—one of the most important people to me—was my fault? HUH?! Do you know what it's like to live with that, NEMIS?! HOW CAN I IGNORE THAT?"
Caerius quickly turns around, his left arm quickly lifting into a clenched fist aiming directly at Nemis's face.
THWACK!!!
Nemis dodges the clumsy blow, slams his face against the cold counter, pressing his head there... completely immobilized.
"It's not about ignoring it, Caerius. It's about you prioritizing your guilt above everything else. I'm not here to coddle you, I'm here to show you the naked truth... whether you like it or not. You are so pathetic, can you even see it? See that this doesn't do you any good, much less those around you? Grow up, Caerius. Grow up and get over this once and for all. It's been 7 years."
She sighs, still holding Caerius firmly against the counter.
"I know it hurts... it still hurts me too. But if I were in your place, I would want something better than to stay down here. I would do everything to honor Morrow-en and the memory of Naeris."
Helvik places Nemis's drink on the counter, distant, while everyone respects that heavy silence, all knowing the real weight of the girl's words.
"You can be sure, I will do this as many times as necessary... I will humiliate you as many times as necessary, for you to face reality."
Caerius avoids eye contact with Nemis, his lips trembling, his eyes narrowing, and tears beginning to form... But he doesn't let them go. He refuses more than anything the right to cry in front of everyone.
The girl sighs and releases the poor boy.
"Enjoy the rest of the night, and reflect when you are alone."
She throws the cigarette butt on the floor and steps on it with her boots, taking a gulp of her cognac.
Caerius remains there... standing at the counter, his gaze fixed on a random point... his mind distant, wandering through painful memories.
....
The bar returns to normal, everyone drinking nonstop, Helvik serving tables, and Nemis standing still, just focusing on her glass and her packs of cigarettes.
Caerius moves, his body staggering, and his face swollen from Nemis's previous action. He turns to her and mutters something inaudible. She doesn't seem surprised.
...
...
Clink-Clink!!
The boy leaves the bar.
...
"Don't you think you were too harsh on him, Nemis?"
Asks the Bartender.
"...It was necessary. And I truly hope that this time it was worth it..."
Nemis replies, not looking back.
Poor Caerius. He wanders through Morrow-en, leaning against cracked walls; he stumbles on the sidewalks. Drunks pass by laughing, enjoying "life." He maintains a smile, a gentle expression—but:
"Nh... ngh..."
He holds back... something wanting to burst from his eyes.
"Damn... I'm so pathetic... UAAAAAHH!!!! SHIT!!!!"
This time... the devastated Caerius couldn't mask his pain with his jokes. This time... he couldn't hold back his agony, everything coming out in a scream that echoes through the narrow alleys of Morrow-en. Maybe because no one is there to see? Maybe, or maybe... due to Nemis's influence.
He is in the filth—worse than the other drunks—because he chose to be there... crying and his chest tearing with the pain.
But this doesn't cross the boy's mind, only the pain and guilt being accumulated while being desperately expelled through his eyes, which were once full of energy.
Cry, Caerius... there is no one here to judge you.
...
...
...
So... this is the weight of your guilt, Caerius?