《Three Months》Stones
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Dimentio stayed out there on his own. His feet were cold from the wet shoes, but he hardly cared about that. He let out a long breath, trying to calm his heart rate. It was actually odd how fast hearts would beat when they were dying. It was almost like they were trying to get in as many beats as possible before tiring out and stopping.
He didn't want to think about what he said to Luigi. He didn't want to think about those feelings now. He did feel different than he did before, yes. Saying it out loud was almost like he was confirming it since he didn't even know how he felt until that day. He wasn't sure how long he had felt that way. He didn't know if those feelings were new or old, he didn't even know when they formed, since he felt the same way about Luigi he did a few days ago. He just didn't know what those feelings meant back then.
However, it made him feel somewhat saddened when he thought about that, knowing that it would never lead anywhere. Even if Luigi had reacted another way, even if Luigi liked him back, it could never lead to anything worthwhile because Dimentio was leaving in a few short days. If anything, he was glad that Luigi reacted the way he did because it would mean less pain for him later.
A small part of him really hated himself for telling Luigi. He hated himself because he knew how Luigi felt about Daisy and he knew that these feelings could never go anywhere. But somehow, he thought it would perhaps have been worse if he never said anything at all. At least when he died he wouldn't have to wonder what could have happened for all eternity. Still, he wished he just didn't feel that way at all. These next three days would be so much easier if he just didn't feel that way.
He hoped that Luigi wouldn't act differently around him now. He hoped they could just both pretend he didn't say anything.
Oh dear Grambi, what if Luigi told Mario?? Dimentio thought to himself, almost feeling panicked. He'd surely kick me out if he knew. WHY did I have to say anything?
No, thinking about that was all too overwhelming. He didn't have time to panic about issues like this. He needed something to distract his mind from this subject.
So instead, he found himself thinking about his perfect world.
It was funny. When he first planned to take the chaos heart and actually destroy everything to create his own perfect world on the newly blank canvas, where he could essentially rule and become the king of all, he didn't really imagine what this world would actually look like. Actually, he didn't think about what kind of picture he'd like to paint at all! All that mattered was clearing the canvas so he would have something to paint. He had no idea what the final product would have even looked like. None of the details even mattered to him. All he knew was that it wouldn't look anything like the world he came from did.
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Perhaps he should have thought it through more. He should have considered what colors it would have, if there would be seasons, if there would be cities and forests, if there would be different cultures and languages. He should have tried figuring some of those details out before attempting to start painting.
What about now? After seeing what he's seen now, what would his perfect world look like?
Well, for one, there would be no going hungry. There would always be food, and there would always be enough time to fully cook and eat said food. There would be a variety of meals for everyone to enjoy. The extra food wouldn't be wasted, either. It would be saved so it could be repurposed or used for later. People wouldn't judge others by what they did and didn't eat, either. There would be something for everyone.
There would also be shelter. There would always be a safe place to go. It didn't have to be a large castle or a mighty palace filled with master bedrooms and grand ballrooms, but someplace anyone could comfortably call home. A sturdy roof over everyone's head and a warm bed to fall into by the time night came.
And the outside world would be lovely as well! The world around them would be beautiful. People could always escape by going outside and finding the beauty in nature. There would always be places to go when someone wanted a moment of tranquility. There would be mountains and forests that the sun would rise over, and at night the stars would shine brightly, showcasing that there were many more peaceful, perfect worlds out there. People could just look up at the sky, but they wouldn't have to feel small as they did because they would know other people were out there who knew they existed.
The towns would be friendly, filled with kind people who would smile and wave at their friends and colleagues, even strangers! People would act kindly unless they were given a true reason to act otherwise. Their first instinct would be to help others, not to put others down. They would comfort people who were feeling down and help lift them up once again.
Lastly, there would never be a need to feel alone because he would be loved in a perfect world. He wouldn't be alone, there would be someone else who wanted him there, who valued his life and wanted him alive. He didn't truly need to be king of all worlds to feel important, he just needed to be connected, be valued.
He was about to mourn the fact that he never got that perfect world, he was going to sit there and wish things could have turned out differently. But instead, he paused, sitting up and looking at the water falling in front of him.
The sound of the water moving wasn't quite frightening anymore, unlike it was when he was in the Underwhere by the River of Twygz. He wasn't afraid that he was going to drown in the water and be dragged down to his death. He didn't get that same sense of panic. It was actually quite tranquil...
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"Wait a moment..." he muttered, listing out everything he wanted for himself in that perfect world in his mind.
Food, shelter, peace, connections... to be valued.
It was all there.
Every single thing.
During these last three months, he didn't feel hungry except for that first week when he shut himself out from the world and starved himself. He always had a roof over his head when he needed one too! Plus, every single time he went outside he was met with that exact natural beauty and peace he would have wanted in a perfect world! When he imagined a perfect world just a moment ago, he wasn't making anything up and creating an unrealistic fantasy with all his hopes and desires, he was imagining THIS world.
Sure, there were many imperfections to this place and there were many other worlds not nearly as perfect, but this WAS his perfect world. He didn't need to create one because one already existed.
No, this wasn't A perfect world, but it was his. This was HIS version of a perfect world. When Queen Jaydes sent Dimentio there, she quite literally gave him exactly what he wanted and needed. He was just too blind to see it back then.
He paused for a moment, then took his wet, soggy shoes off and stood in the ice-cold river, feeling the stone beneath his feet and lightly smiling. The stone was cold but sturdy, there to support him and prevent him from falling through the earth and back into the Underwhere.
It was almost odd to think about how even as the water in the creek constantly flowed and moved, the stone stayed strong and sturdy. The stone didn't leave, even as the world around it constantly changed.
The river was wild, free, and untameable, but the stone still stood firm beneath it, supporting the river as it flowed and changed, lifting it high and catching it as the water fell and crashed. No matter how wild and free the water was, the stone would always stay grounded and support it. It was unbreakable, even after years of the water trying to wear it down. The stone was there on the days the water looked perfect and calm, but it also stayed still on the days the water was rapid and wild. The stone didn't even care.
Even if the water was to dry out, the stone would still remain, there to support the water again should it come back.
Rivers that run dry don't just fade away. They leave behind their scars and riverbeds. Their paths are set in stone as the stones pave the trail the water blazed. Even when the water's dried, the stones remain and tell their story. They tell the story of a river that was once there and act as the river's permanent mark on the world. If a fire were to come and set this forest ablaze, killing the river by making all the water evaporate and dry up, the stone would still remain, completely unphased.
He was going to die. He knew that very well by now. He had three nights left, including this one. but instead of convincing himself that a miracle could save him, he tried looking at this through a different lens. He was running out of time, so he didn't have time to be afraid of dying, (even if the concept was very real and terrifying). He didn't have time to try to find a solution.
All he could do was make the best of these next three days. All he could do was make the most of everything.
He had to make it count. He had to live as much as he could in the short amount of time he had left.
Dimentio softly smiled to himself, then looked at the waterfall, feeling the current push against his ankles. "I'm going to live," he said. "I'll make it worth it. I'm not going to be afraid anymore."
Dying didn't have to be a scary concept. Every single living thing died, it was natural. Everyone will have to go through it eventually, so why waste life being afraid? It was just like Luigi had said all that time ago.
Perhaps the scariest part about dying wasn't the fact that it was happening, but the fact that Dimentio would have to go through it alone. Even if he were to stay and allow Luigi to be there while he was dying, (which he didn't plan on doing because he still didn't want Luigi to know,) it still would feel like he was going through it alone. He almost wished that he could gather a large group of people who were exactly like him. People who were dying the exact same way at the exact same time. He wished they could all just group together and take the step into the afterlife together, just so no one would have to go in alone. That way they could all feel that sense of connection one last time and it wouldn't be so lonely.
He knew he had to make this journey, but he just wished he didn't have to be alone.
But, he did have to be alone, and that was okay. This was a journey that everyone would eventually have to make all on their own. It was simply a part of living.
He began walking back, reaching for his wet shoes and holding them in his hands so he could continue walking in the stream. He liked the feeling of the stone supporting him too as he moved, noting that it would still be there, waiting for him, even when he was long gone. The stone would stay there, waiting to support anyone who did walk on it.
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