"This is dumb as shit... You always kill the damn mood."
At times like this, we just weren't on the same wavelength. It was like she was outdoing me somehow.
Overcome by lethargy, I heaved a long sigh and sat on the chair next to Claudia. She was still asleep.
"You're pretty fucking weird, you know that?"
I thought I was unaffected by weirdos, and thanks to Helga, I knew full well what demented bitches were like. This woman, however, was insane in an entirely different way.
"How can you sleep so fucking nonchalantly? Do you actually feel safe? What, you think I'm a gentleman or some shit?"
I always shouted at her, and even punched and kicked her more than a few times. Not to mention the fact I always told her I'd kill her.
Did I make a mistake by repeating myself too often? Was she starting to underestimate me because the words had lost weight and sincerity?
That didn't seem unlikely, and because of that, I decided to make it clear I wasn't fucking around.
As I said before, I'd already dropped the idea of trying to stir her up through fear. However, I didn't like the fact she wasn't afraid of me at all.
"Guess there's only one thing to do, then."
It wasn't too far off my new course of action, anyway, I reached for Claudia's sheets.
"No indecency, please."
She suddenly woke up.
"...You bitch. You were just pretending this whole time?"
"Well, anyone would wake up with all that noise outside."
"Then why the act?"
"I thought you might say something interesting. Like, for example, 'I love you.'"
"Die.
I hit her with little reservation. She deserved it for saying stuff that made chills run down my spine.
"That's hurt. Now, why did you go and do that? Are you embarrassed, perhaps?"
"Why the fuck would I be?"
"Because you... Well..."
"What? You want me to kill going?"
"Don't be silly! You can't do that without love!"
Her face turned flushed as she grew visibly upset.
"Even I know that much. And I also know that words without feelings behind them are bad, as well. Did you think you could fool me with honeyed words and have your way with me? I won't be fooled. You'll have to do much better, Wilhelm. Then again, I could not stop you if you decided to take me by force, but..."
She then looked at me with strangely triumphant eyes and giggled through her nose.
"What did you say back then? 'What kind of a man would be seduced by you? There's nothing there,' was it? Assault me, and you will be eating those words. It will be an admission that little Claudia actually made you horny. Can you truly do that? A part of me wouldn't mind, honestly. After all, I could interpret it as you being serious about me and— Mgah!"
I hit her again. It seemed like the dumbass was badly misunderstanding the situation.
Sure, I did try to rape her, but it had nothing to do with her puppy love fantasies about playing house. It was just a matter of pride, so that I could show who the top dog was.
Sadly, her stupid shit made me go all limp. Lemme just say, not being able to keep it up after something's killed your vibe is one of the sadder parts of being a man.
"Man, why are you so damn worldly? You're a nun, aren't you? 'Horny?' Seriously? You telling me that saying it didn't make you feel sad?"
"Not at all. Though, it did make me a bit embarrassed. Also, is it really wrong to be worldly?"
Her tone as she said that was both soothing and curious.
Despite the situation, she was still lying in bed, and it wasn't because she was lazy or anything.
Claudia couldn't get up even if she wanted to. The trip to Katyn and back drained most of the energy she had left, which was already limited. She'd been bedridden ever since.
Wouldn't have been odd if she never got up again, really.
Her death was drawing near. And despite that, she still had that stupid smile on her face.
"I've never heard you say it, but I assume your wish is to live a long life, isn't it? I don't mean in the normal sense. You want to live a century, then two, all the way into a millennium and beyond. You want to become Methuselah. Am I wrong?"
"Methu... What? The hell is that?"
This was a word I'd never heard of before. Claudia formed a wry smile and explained.
"Methuselah was Noah's ancestor. He was the longest-living person in the Bible. His name even became synonymous with long lives. Basically, he can be summed up as 'an undying person who existed for a godly amount of time.' That's what you wish to be, yes?"
"..."
I wasn't able to answer instantly, and to this day, I still don't know why.
For all I knew, I might've been feeling guilty about something... But no, that's impossible.
"Why do you think that?"
"Because you always get mad at me. There aren't all that many reasons for a person to get mad. Some feel anger when being denied, made light of, or when witnessing something they can't understand. I had a feeling that I fit all three of those for you, and when I thought about it, that was the conclusion I came to. I'm not wrong, am I?"
I gave no response, but she continued regardless.
"You seek something with all you are, while I treat it as if it's trivial. It's insulting and incomprehensible for you, and that's why you're so angered by me. When I realized it, I felt a bit bad, but I don't feel like I should apologize to you."
"Not like it's easy for you to change, huh?"
"Yes. And so, I'm sure I will continue to make you mad moving forward. But you, with your wish to become Methuselah, will live far longer than I, and I would like you to stay like you are. In a way, being sinful is a wonderful thing, after all."
She was basically saying that being susceptible to anger, joy, or sadness over the most trivial matters was something to cherish.
"If I'm treating life frivolously, then you are doing the same to the heart, aren't you? To be aloof, unwavering, unaffected, silent, and to look down on the world with cold, all-knowing eyes and a smile just as chilly... It's not like you at all. That is the life of a person with a dead heart."
The first people that came to mind upon hearing that were Lord Heydrich and Mercurius.
I actually never wanted to become like them in that regard, but I couldn't deny that they were prime examples of those who'd transcended about the rest.
So, if I were to become like them in a hundred years or so, I'd probably lost all sense of danger.
Until Claudia told me those words, I didn't even consider the idea. I can concede that much.
She also wasn't wrong that I was mistreating my heart.
"It probably doesn't mean much when I say it, but I think that's the secret to a long life. No matter how healthy you are, it doesn't mean anything if you're emotionally exhausted. A life that you're tired of, an existence in which nothing grabs your attention or care, is just very sad. I doubt anyone could truly bear it."
"You're not wrong there."
I nodded in full agreement.
Those words came from a woman who was more gluttonous for joy than anyone I knew, and who lived her life seeking newer heights. There was no way I could deny them.
"If that shit somehow became all I could think of, I'd probably just kill myself."
She was effectively heading to her death, but she wasn't actually tired of life. Claudia was just being burned because of her excessive wish for life — her bliss.
Though for reasons completely opposed to the usual, she was suicidal to the point of an illness.
"This is pissing me off... Man, I really hate this shit."
And that was why I wanted to make her say she didn't want to die — to crush her excessive stupidity.
As someone with that as my intention, I wasn't allowed to have the same mental illness as her.
"Suicidal impulses, eh...?"
That was what I named the concept back then, and I still denounce it to this day.
Even if the flesh was undying, the heart and soul weren't. Some would say that it was the other way around, but everything had an antithesis.
To avoid becoming suicidal, I had to keep my heart young. And for that, I thought it was important to keep seeing value in whatever I found exciting.
"Hey, for once, you actually preached something useful. Good job. Now go to sleep."
"Oh, come on, you're the one who woke me. Why are you acting like it's my fault? Also, I've been lying all the time recently. There's a limit to how much I can sleep. The curtains are closed, too, so I can't see outside, either."
"It's nothing but darkness right now. And if you want them open during the day, that just ain't happening. It'd be a pointless waste of your life. Got a problem with that? Well, recover to the point when you can actually walk around, and then we'll talk."
"Okaaay."
At that point, the only ones who knew about her state were Samiel and I. I never had any intention of spreading the news, but Claudia herself asked me to keep quiet, too.
Still, I felt like it wouldn't be long until someone found out. I knew Beatrice would make a huge scene out of it, so, if possible, I wanted it to stay a secret.
"Umm, Wilhelm?"
"What? I ain't singing lullabies, got it?"
"No, that's not it."
I looked and noticed that she'd formed a cheerful smile.
"I had a pretty funny dream."
"A dream?"
How worthless. I had no words.
Claudia, however, still had that goofy smile on her face.
"I was asleep in the dream, too, and someone was knocking on the window. Then, I heard them say 'Open up. Open up. I came to see you. Let me in,' again and again. I was surprised at first, but they had a very gentle voice, and I felt better just by listening, so..."
"You actually let the thing in?"
"Yes. I opened the window and... Now, who do you think was the guest?"
The flow of the conversation made it hard to assume it was me, and honestly, I wanted no part in her fucking fairy tale.
With that in mind, I just shook my head to show how little I cared.
"It was Louie! Funny, isn't it?"
"Like fuck it is!"
I instantly reached my boiling point, roared those words, turned around, and left her room.
The moment I slammed the door shut, I saw the curtains on the window gently sway in the wind.
________________________________________________________
[Angel in the Rosenkrantz]
Upon hearing those words, I felt a revelation strike me like a bolt of lightning.
"The God of Darkness?"
"Indeed. You are the God of Darkness, Methuselah. And that is no mere comparison. When faced with those of a gloomy or inhumane nature, many enjoy proclaiming them to be darkness or assuming that they possess a dark heart, but that does not apply to you. In fact, treating darkness and vice as synonyms is naught but a mistake. Although, I do find it useful in the idiomatic sense, and must admit I myself am guilty of using it in that manner. However, that is but an insult to you. After all, you do not see the darkness as disagreeable, no?"
Of course not. The darkness is a mere phenomenon with no inherent good or bad to it.
Humans happen to be diurnal, so they have a primal fear of night ingrained into them from the days of being hunted by nocturnal predators. It was given to them, and now they merely take it for granted. After all, to animals living in the night, the dark is nothing but bliss.
"But if that is the case, then why do I have a human form? If I am truly the God of Darkness, I should have no tangible shape whatsoever. I will concede that your answer stirs my heart, but it doesn't feel real, much like the notion that you can hold mist."
A humanoid darkness? Simply preposterous, I say.
Naturally, I was unable to agree to that. In response, the magician gave an exaggerated gesture of lament.
"Is it truly that hard to picture a personified aspect of nature? I believe there is nothing curious about that. Look at yourself. In terms of lifespan, you are already far above mankind. Thus, you should be able to recall the dawn of civilization and the state of the world back then. The unvarnished truth is that it was brimming with the arcane."
As I was told that, memories flowed back to me and I nodded in response. The recollection were distant and vague, but they hadn't faded enough for me to consider them a dream.
"Megaliths flew through the air, and floating palaces were not a rare sight."
"I recall that war was based on the exchange of magic, and there were tsunamis that could sink entire continents."
"Certain beasts spoke in human tongue, and some people could commune with flora."
"Yes. I remember. Back then, all sorts of arcane were a common sight."
"Therefore..."
The mercurial man formed a grin and directed his finger at me, as if to strengthen his point.
"...It was an age of Gods. Or rather, the one of God's dependents. Lightning, wind, earth, fire, water... All such things were personified and worshiped, and you are but a God born in that era. There is nothing curious about perceiving darkness as sacred, after all. Mankind oftentimes reveres and serves what they fear. You were born from the primal awe they bore toward the very concept of darkness. I remember it well. Nay — I just remembered it."
As if celebrating the truth about me and cursing some part of himself, he heaved an admiring sigh.
At that moment, I felt like the man — no, the world — underwent a change. Until then, I'd perceived him as a flowing body of mercury, but suddenly, his shape was clear.
"..."
It felt familiar, but I didn't feel like I actually knew it.
What I did know was that the unique, agate eyes that were looking at me were ravaged by a profound sense of resignation, despair, and madness.
"Is anything the matter, O King of Darkness? You act as though you are being glared by a serpent. Rest easy, for I have no intention of consuming you whole."
"Silence. Hold your tongue."
His remarks were unpleasant. I felt as if they coiled around my origin, so I didn't try to bite back at him.
I focused entirely on finding the specifics of his answer.
"Don't talk of things that don't interest me ever again. I give questions, and you merely provide answers. I won't deny the world used to be full of the arcane or that it was the era of the Gods. But then, why have things devolved to such an extent? Castles no longer fly, magic is obsolete, and what was considered a simple fact back then is slowly becoming myth. This is nothing but a degeneration. The world is becoming rich in terms of the physical, but it's regressing in terms of the spiritual. At the very least, with you as the sole exception, the magicians of this era are pathetic. Many of them can't even learn to fly after dedicating their entire lives to it. Back then, however, even mere children could perform such feats with little trouble."
I could remember it well. I'd been born in that age, but eventually, I began wandering the night all of my own.
"Where did they all go? Why is this world declining?"
The magician replied to my sharp, truth seeking words with nothing but clarity.
"Because the origin is dying. Its lifespan is nearing its end. This, too, is only natural."
"Lifespan?"
"Indeed. There is no law that can expand for all eternity."
And thus, he said apathetically, there was nothing strange about it fading with time.
"I called you sort 'dependents,' did I not? The many arcanes of the olden days were but remnants — side effects left from a time when the origin was still young. There is no need to overthink it. Youth are always stronger, healthier, and more beauteous than the aged, and the surges of life they emit are far more brilliant and vibrant. At the dawn of time, the world was full of God's powers — his love. Thus, the excessive emanation of his divinity gave birth to beings much like their parent."
And I was one of them, he claimed, like a father belatedly blessing the birth of a child.
"That is why, back then, wielding magic took little effort and delivered far greater results. This is best likened to... Oh, and I do not mean any ill will with this..."
"Basically, the healthier the host, the healthier the parasites, yes?"
I went and spoke a comparison that I felt he would use. The flourishing supernatural of the past age was only because God — this world — was young.
Someone was seated at the center of all. He was the Apotheosis of existence and the originator of the sorcery.
All of Creation took the nature and color of the prayer he'd weaved, and the aftereffects he granted the world came to be known as the arcane. The idea seemed perfectly reasonable.
If there was a being that could make all of heaven and earth with a mere "Let there be light," it was only natural for the by-products of the feat to become great powers in the hands of men.
And those who'd used them nonchalantly pled for more.
They tread the steps of the father, effectively repeated his words, "Let there be light. Let there be light. Let there be light."
Because of that, magic had immense effects. There were flying palaces, fantastical beasts, and even nature personified.
The War-God of Lightning, the Earth-Mother of the Land, the Gods of Wind, Water, Fire... And Darkness.
"And that is what I am?"
"At the very least, the influence the origin had on you is immense. As the host grows feeble, you, too, will weaken and vanish. The arcane that was abundant at the prime is almost exhausted, yet the origin is not in a good enough state to bless the world with more. There will eventually be no more of it. The world is dying, and I am unaware of how many know of that fact."
"That means I don't have much time left, either."
That was probably the reason why I gave my question to people and judged them worthy of death if they had no answer, I might've actually been aware of the truth about myself.
Those who couldn't see that the world was dying and knew nothing of the dark — me — were as good as nothingness, and thus they had no reason to live.
"Indeed. Yet you exist despite everyone else having vanished. And that is why you are 'Methuselah' — the oldest entity still living under this law. Be proud. Not many are worthy to don such a title."
The strangely sincere praise made me form a self-mocking grin. Though it was true that I'd lived long, I never believed it was any sort of achievement.
"Why am I the only one left? Why didn't I vanish with the others...?"
That was the last question I had. It was mostly directed at myself, but the magician gave a clear answer regardless.
"Because you were more similar to your parent than the rest, no? By that, I mean that you are not the sort to give up, just like this world. After all, despite its senility, it is exceedingly stubborn. I believe it might be because it has a wish it wants fulfilled."
"A wish... A desire, you say?"
That might've been true. Like I'd just thought, I'd lived an empty, ridiculous life with no achievement to name.
And exactly because I had something I sought, I never allowed death to claim me.
It was a sentiment born of pride — I merely wanted to prove that what was inside of me was more than just the void.
"Please, live on and find your true desire as you journey through life. That is what I am doing, as well."
"Oh? Then you are like me?"
The man gave me answers, showed me the way, and knew of the preposterous age of mythology.
He, too, was definitely an ancient figure, so I wanted to know him better. I wished to hear what he was seeking.
"Indeed. However, I do not know my true craving yet. I am still in the midst of my search. Let us meet again, Methuselah. Fellow persistent soul."
He — Theophrastus von Hohenheim — spoke as though he already knew that our paths would cross once more.
"Even in this exhausted world, you can wield the might of old if you but will it. You are a dependent of God — the last arcane."
I knew that he would surely have a new name when he next met.
I decided to follow his example and learn such an artifice myself.
"I am Methuselah."
I had finally learned the truth of my nature — that I was the God of Darkness. And no matter how many names I donned over the years, that singular fact remained unshaken.