Chapter 14: Occam's Razor

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I commiserate myself. Every moment time perpetuates.

I hate my life. I hate all of existence. Why has all of this happened to me? This world works against me.

I slide in consolidation and the memories of the others cleave at me. The death of mothers and fathers haunt me. The memories of broken bones and injury maim me. The problems of the cluster pressure me from all sides.

However, there is luminous luster as well. The joy of a newborn life. The elation of a newly formed union between lovers. The light of the collection blinds as well.

At least, it seems that way. Over time I realize the auras here are sheer memories. The experiences of the others have a finite ending point when Deluge absorbs the victim. The memories of the others distance me from them like a muddy glass blocks sight.

I do not actually experience their lives. I experience the memory of their previous life. This place produces comfort with the peace and stillness, but the diluted experience forebodes stagnation. I can only await unity in this place. Progress lies in Deluge’s hand only.

No one tries for change. They simply enjoy the simplicity of this existence with the lack of consequence or responsibility. These beings appease themselves with such simplicity. How trite.

I reinvoke my fury through judgment. Memories of my past assail me. I remember the roasted meat of my father's corpse and his charming smile. I inflict the memory of my mother slapping me as well as her protection during cold nights. These experiences help define me with my actions as the catalyst.

I push myself from the clump of essence towards my conscious, but I cannot move. I squirm with all my might, yet I remain still. I struggle with reignited vigor. The viscous fluid reject my desire. The mass pulls with a viscous lure. Every Single being keeps me here trapped.

Or so they believe. I have wrenched the souls of demons. I have lived countless lives of torment. I need nothing that sustains the lives of normal men. I smash the will of beings left and right. I remember my purpose. I remember my duel with Deluge. His perfect, absolute will engulfs these paltry concerns.

I Brace myself forward. I lean with everlasting force. I push with unyielding power. I charge unabated and unbowed. I refuse this fate of mitigated, diffused being. I will accept all of life including the awful and intolerable,but I fail.

The strength of legion inundates. I continue defiantly, yet I still stay stationary. I stand on the cusp of eternity. The mindless drove forces me down. I cannot move nor breathe. All eclipses.

Suddenly light sears through shade toward mine eyes. Another who stands in the midst of desert weeping. Another who falls in desecration. His trial and tribulation, his plague and pestilence, his bane and burden embody my own.

Above another kindred spirit endures alone. I muster effort unknown. I Climb bottomless chasms. I cross boundless oceans. I conquer both leviathans and behemoths alike. All collapses and crumbles before my will.

I inch away from legion. I must save my friend. He is a brother in a strange land who needs me. I may not save myself, but I compel myself for another. Dozens will against my escape. I rend, rip, rive, slice, and slit myself from the globulous mass.

I ascend toward my future. I will not be impelled by others. Deluge yearns another's empathy.

I receive conscious.

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“How can you see light? You were legion." He reiterates, "You were gone!” I say after the relief past.

“I remembered myself and what I live for Deluge. Our deal has yet cusped. I still have time for my plan.”

I shy myself before him. He has conquered legion and eternity as well. “Hah, hah. Of course Jack.” I release control and call for my children once more. They choose quiescence. I am no harbinger of competence nor capacity. These sheep wish for guidance rather than retainer.

Then I shall persevere and persist in their stead. There will be a mortal who rejects dormancy. I shall be waiting and ready hearing their call.

I relinquish my control for jack. He walks toward the inn finding Klessilia and Morne no longer. I instigated their closure. I say, “I shall atone my sins Jack. I lost myself in butchery. I could-”

He calmly replies, “You have nothing to apologize for. Just as they deject me, I shall reject them.”

Intense loathing emanates from Jack. He reforged himself amongst obsidian coals heated in hellfire and hatred. Impressive.

He stands in the embers of slaughter I wrought. Blood encompasses the entire inn. No one lived after my desecration. I deplore my actions. I accepted Jack’s proposal, and now I shatter his trust.

I say, “I...I lost myself Jack...I-”

He interrupts bitterly, “I have found myself Deluge. I understand now. These people mean nothing. They equate to nothing. They, as all other things in my life, abandon and betray me.”

After a moment I reply with certainty, “I will not betray you.”

“You murder half the village in anger yet you promise anything? Oh the hypocrisy.” he hisses savagely.

“They deserved their fate,” I defend ethically.

“Look Deluge. The problem does not lie with what is deserved. The problem lies with detonating any opportunity I had with the noble. Everyone is dead, and I stand at over 7 feet tall of lumbering mass.” he reproaches.

I hint another plan, “We may speed the process yet Jack.”

Jack questions, “What is your aim Deluge?”

I laugh, “Ah, hah, hah, hah, haaaah...Deception.”

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I reach the nobles manor in the dead of night. I bang on his door with a panicked expression coated in congealed blood from numerous wounds. I slam my fist maniacally. When suddenly Hemly opens the door.

“What in blazes do yo-MY GOD! What has happened my boy! Come inside. You need to see a doctor.”

I spit hysterically, “I-I-I sew a d-demon. He came and d-d-destroyed the inn. I didn’t kn-n-now what to do. Something wicked this way comes.”

Hemly slams and locks the door. He looks at me again, “What kind of demon was it?”

I say, “The morphed monstrosity of a human over seven feet tall. The being a-a-ate all of the p-p-people at the bar. There's no one left. I hid within a barrel, but everyone else died. B-b-blood everywhere.”

Hemly shakes my shoulders in a panicked fervor, “Calm my boy. You are safe now. How many died?”

I shakily admit, “At least half the village Hemly. At least...I...I need to wash this blood from me.”

Hemly wraps an arm around me while leading me around the red hallways embellished with mahogany furniture. He reassures me, “You will be alright Jack. Geralt will not let you die before you have gifted this world with your talents.”

“I...I thank you Hemly. I am f-f-forever in your debt.”

“Grant your services to Geralt. I deserve nothing dear boy,” he says as we reach the bath. “Here is our bath. Do not bother yourself with the blood. I shall clean this with the other servants. Please relax.”

I walk up towards thick, square doors with a glossy sheen of polished stain upon them. Flowers adorned the entrance with a fragrant scent. I enter a room with a ceramic tub sporting a metal pan in the bottom holding coals. Several bottles of different herbs and oils sat beside a bar of scented soap.

Several servants enter the room with buckets of warm water. They fill the bath then they bring embers from the fireplace and place them under the tub. They constantly check the water temperature while telling, “Now wait a minute dear. The water's too cold.”

After twenty minutes they finally tell me the waters ready then several young female servants walk in with an assortment of different cleansing utensils. I say, “What are you maids staying here for?”

A leader-ish made says, “We are here to assist you in the bath. You must be weary after such a journey. We shall handle your worries.”

Several maids giggle. My chest heaves as my body grows leaden. I dart my head throughout the room while saying, “What? No, I can wash myself thank you.”

“This is normal procedure Sir Jack. We must oblige Geralt’s request,” the head made instigates.

I push further, “There is no need for such lovely ladies such as yourselfs to dirty their own purity cleaning all of this blood. Let a mere commoner handle the problem.”

Several maids snicker once more when the head maid says, “We are not as pure as you would believe. Now please strip your self. Boy.”

Oh shit. I reach for Deluge, but he hides amongst my subconscious. That damn parasite! I scramble for more arguments, “I will just tell Geralt you all washed me. There is no need for such trite devotion.”

Several maids took a step closer. My face heats as blood rushes towards my face. The more I desire their removal from this room the more the maids wish to stay. A redheaded maid says, “Oh don’t be so shy. It’s just a bath. You’ve had plenty with your mother.”

I desperately attach myself with my last hope. I sigh and relax my shoulders then stand tall and firm. I say with grim finality, “My mother is dead. " I pause for a moment. "Being washed reminds me of her. The memory burns my heart and soul. Please release me from this torment.”

Several maids gasp in surprise. The head maid bows her head then slightly opens her mouth with a pause before saying, “Of course. I am sorry we insisted this far. It was improper of us.”

“Thank you for your carnal decency,” I derisively reply.

Her face wrinkles as she compresses her face then swallows a reply and walks away. The other maids soon follow draping shame in their posture.

I finally relax in the bath when Deluge says, “My plan succeeded flawlessly. My intellect stands unblemished. I have redeemed myself.”

“You managed maintaining my previous position is all,” I reply.

“I killed multiple birds with a single rock Jack.”

“Look, using a foot and a half of height for enough blood to cover me and leave a trail doesn't take a genius Deluge.”

“Utilizing Occam’s razor so deftly requires tactics.”

“You didn’t even think of a creature that could cause such a phenomenon. Very crafty there.”

“You belittle what you neglect thought towards.”

“I jest Deluge. The plan stood solid under externalities. I am a big fan of simple plans myself as was my mother.”

“Hmmm." After a short pause he thinks, "As long as you understand this.”

“Try not to take life so seriously.”

“Species who live carefully live long Jack.”

“And those species lack regeneration and critical thinking. I invested myself into my parents. They were torn from my life in an instant. I devote myself towards this village. They storm my room attempting murder. I do not have time nor emotion for such transient and ephemeral possessions. Neither do you.”

“Hmmm." He pauses. "Perhaps you are right.”

“I may be. I just want to relax though Deluge. Enough of this conversation.”

I finish my bath and a maid walks me towards the dining room.

There a chef watches and describes the two dishes he made so quickly. The first being Tricant soup then morning haytails as a dessert.

The soup is a complex delicacy of the northern town Tricant using the spices of rooted plants like rhubarb and beets giving a tangy, spicy flavour. The haytails are usually served for breakfast as sugary treats using sassafras root juice mixed with noney sucke nectar and nutmeg that's spun onto savory breadsticks.

The taste of the soup floods your mouth with pepper and meat, but a zesty, mildly bitter broth accentuates the meat’s savoriness. The morning haytails are chewy with a crunchy exterior loaded with sweetness and a sharp minty root beer taste. The meal stands as the apex of all meals I have ever eaten.

I tell the chef exactly what I think, and he beams with pride. I finish the meal and the same maid takes me toward a bedroom where my inertia slows, and I sleep as though death cradles me.