Cyanide, old friend

After a major victory over the empire, she told him,

We’ve been invited to a big party to celebrate the victory, do you want to—

He waved his hand,

Nah.

Ok, I’ll be out for a week then.

But he was feeling restless, so he draped himself in bandages like a leper, much like the raven had once done, and sailed North. The empire was retreating again, pushed back by the confederation of independent northerners. The war was clearly going the North’s way, and it seemed the fall of the capital was now only a matter of time.

The lightbringer traveled to cities in the north that he had always wanted to visit but never had the chance. The streets were filled with posters and billboards inciting citizens to join the army, or denouncing the empire’s abuses. The atmosphere was intoxicating. Everybody waited eagerly for the south to finally fall, unaware of who was behind the victory over the empire. Even the lightbringer was mistaken, thinking it had been him.

There was one thing he had wanted to do for a long time now: return to his hometown, where he had started his first revolution. It felt like it all had happened in another life, another planet even. The first place he visited was his own house. There he shed grateful tears when he saw the memorial in his honor, which read,

In memory of the man who stood up against the empire. He was an inspiration to us all.

Thus he understood just how famous he was. She knew, but hadn’t told him. He couldn’t have known because he hadn’t had any contact with the real world for decades, spending most of his time immersed in books. Soon he learned that his revolution was considered a key event in recent history and studied in depth at college. Kids wore shirts with his human face, thinking it was a symbol of righteous revolution against the oppressor, oblivious to the thousands he had killed.

He traveled through different towns and cities to witness change for himself. People did their best to distance themselves from the past. The empire’s education and healthcare laws were abolished and replaced with brand new laws, created by the legal architects of the new countries. Minorities, which had no special rights under the empire, now were legally revindicated with special privileges due to the alleged past injustices under the empire.

During his one-hundred and twenty-eight years of life as “the lightbringer”, he had witnessed a huge change in the world, one he had set in motion. He had known pain, love, loss and now, finally, achievement and a sense of legacy. He sat on a bench next to a young kid and said, with tears in his eyes,

It was a good life, and I’m glad I had the chance to live it.

lol grandpa who asked? PogO.

The kid scooted away out of his sight leaving only a vape trail behind him.

Even language had evolved during his lifetime into something he could barely comprehend. He returned to his mansion to ask her for a favor. He wanted her to make him mortal again so he could die in peace. He didn’t need to kill the Tyrant anymore, he was happy with his life. When he returned to the mansion, she was there, doing her best to hide her agitation about something she had done. But he knew her all too well after spending together more than a century. He took her hands and spoke as he looked into her eyes,

Dear, I apologize for the other day, when I said I wanted us to turn in—But she refused to look him in the eye—I never meant it, I hope you understand that. I know what they did to you, it was unspeakable. The last thing I wish for is that it happens again. I have, however, one favor to ask. I want you to make me mortal and just let me go. I hope you will indulge this old man.

She was still clearly upset, which he thought was because she didn’t want him to leave her. She said, sobbing as she caressed his face,

Of course dear, I will make you mortal. Everything will be fine, you’ll see.

Then she put her head on his chest, sobbing quietly. He said,

There’s something else I want to tell you. I’ll show myself to people, tell them who I am, tell them my whole story.

Sure, dear. But promise me you’ll be there with me, when we storm the capital.

Ok, I promise.

She wiped her tears, looked into his eyes and said, smiling,

Great.

Oblivious to her tears, he planned his grand entrance into the real world. She was always reminding him to keep a low profile, to hide his real face, because the watchers had never stopped looking for them since their escape. When, in the past, he had asked her to reveal himself, she had always replied,

It’s dangerous, somebody will notice you.

But this time, she hadn’t warned him, and that was strange. Now she had agreed to something without a fight.

Oh boy, something was definitely not right.

While she was downstairs, and he thought she could not hear him, he searched through her belongings, trying to find any clue. But she was too clever for that, and he would have to find another way. He was anxious. It could be any number of things. His mind raced with possibilities,

Is she dying? No, it can’t be. She actually wants that. It has to be something else. It has to be—

Then it hit him. She had gone on a trip shortly before him, where had she gone to? And why? There was one answer that terrified him, and which he found hard to believe but which, in that moment, made sense. She did not want the Tyrant to fall. For some reason, she wanted war to go on.

He recalled their past conversations about war. She was always in favor of it, and even admitted to having started plenty of them. Yes, she had admitted proudly to killing millions. She had said she was evil and couldn’t be any other way. But he knew her, what she was addicted to wasn’t evil so much as mischief. Deep down, she wanted what was best for mankind, even if she could never really get it right.

There was another bugging detail. One night she told him about how she had met the Tyrant before he even had an army. She loved him and taught him so much. But then the Tyrant had betrayed her. What if… What if she still cared about the Tyrant, even after what he had done to her?

He felt out of air, even though he didn’t need to breathe.

She must be setting me up! She agreed to let me die, but she made me promise I would be there when the Tyrant falls. That’s when she wants to trap me.

Everything made sense now. She, the woman he had loved unconditionally, the woman he had served his whole life, had finally betrayed him. She really was cruel, and she hadn’t changed a bit. She never would.

When evening came, he offered to cook. She was too distressed to listen to him and left to take a walk down the beach, as she usually did around that time of day. He took the secret poison bottle he kept handy in case he was captured and poured it on her food. Then he waited, his whole body shaking with anticipation.

At night they sat down to eat in silence. He waited until she finished her plate to ask,

So. Did you enjoy your trip, dear?

She nodded and said,

Excitement is in the air. Any day now we’ll get the news that the Tyrant’s fortress is under attack. You’ll see. You should come with me the next time.

Perhaps I should… But I won’t.

What do you mean?

She was trembling, so was he.

I’m leaving you. Don’t come after me.

What are you—

I know what you’ve done, even if I can’t understand it. After all he put you through, all the people he killed to build his empire, and still you try to protect him?

He stood up,

I was there when you cried for your dead children. I saw the misery he put you through. Still, I find out you don’t actually want him dead? And what’s worse, that you’re going to turn me in? That’s too much, too fucking much!

He flipped the table where they were eating. She sobbed and grabbed his arm.

Please, you don’t understand, it’s not what you think—

She collapsed. He spoke, looking at her twist on the ground,

By now you must know what’s going on: cyanide, your old friend.

He carried her to bed. She said, crying,

Don’t—go.

He also cried and said,

I’m sorry, sorry for so many things…

Don’t. Just promise me. Promise you won’t be there—when he falls. I-It’s not what you think, I want him dead. Not like this. Promise.

She used all her strength to grab his arms.

Promise you’ll hide and—

But she died before she could finish the sentence.

He went down to the shore and burned down all the boats except the one he used to leave the island. In silence he sailed to the continent under the bright moonlight. When he finally thought his life had been worth something, it turned out it was all based on a lie. She had never intended to kill the Tyrant, she just wanted to redeem him. He didn’t believe in redemption, he only had one thought, one desire, one goal:

Kill the Tyrant.