The Art of Forgiveness

Chapter 14

Dimentio and Blumiere both sat atop Flipside Tower. The crowd had dispersed long ago. Mario and Luigi were down with Merlon, talking about something that most likely didn't matter. The sun had just set, turning the sky a dark purple color. The lantern in Blumiere's hand seemed to glow brighter in the darkness, however, he wasn't sure if it was actually glowing more intensely, or if it simply appeared brighter due to the contrast of the darker surroundings. 

Neither of the former villains had ever seen Flipside at night. It was actually quite beautiful. Lights from the streets and the buildings kept the city bright. Even after hours, the streets felt alive and were filled with chatter and laughter. There was a glowing quality to each of the dimensional doors as well, that was practically unnoticeable in the daytime.

Dimentio carefully held the book with both hands, reading through the contents. Luigi had said another chapter was unlocked. That wasn't the case, however. More than a chapter had unlocked. The entire book had made itself available. There were pages and pages filled with words, to the point where Dimentio couldn't even read it all. The beginning of the book was filled with dated entries, but as time passed, the dates went away, revealing a story. A story about someone's life. A story about love and forgiveness.

It wasn't like the Light Prognosticus in the sense that there were heroes and good guys. However, it wasn't like the Dark Prognosticus either. There was no black and white. There were no heroes and villains. There were just people. People who yes, did questionable things to the protagonist of the story, but there was no pure antagonist. No one person was the source of all evil. It was that quality that made the story feel real.

That, and the disorganization. The fact that the story was messily made it feel all the more true. The fact that there were thoughts and phrases contradicting one another made it feel like a human mind. There was a unique beauty to the messiness.

The story was about a man. A man who spent his life feeling as though he had never been truly alive. It wasn't until he decided to push himself to step outside his comfort zone did he start finding purpose. However, the protagonist of the story wasn't some brave, selfless, perfect legendary hero like the legends in the Light Prognosticus. The main character was flawed. The main character felt things like anger and betrayal. They were complex in a way.

The main character was someone with room to grow, as were all the side characters.

The fact that there were pages and pages of words showed that the author did in fact not die on April 5th, as he had written in the last entry Dimentio and Blumiere read. In fact, there were dated entries explaining how he had in fact gotten himself into a duel over something as simple as a girl, then somehow miraculously won. However, even as the victor, he had chosen to get his competitor to a healer. A seemingly stupid move on his part, but it did show a lot about his character.

"Do you think the entries are real...?" Blumiere asked, reading over Dimentio's shoulder. "Or... are they all just part of a story?"

Dimentio shrugged. He honestly wasn't sure anymore. When the two of them first stumbled upon the book, they thought that it was a simple journal. However, looking back at the entries before the story part of the book even began, they were starting to feel more and more like set up for the actual story. There were aspects that felt real, but that may have just been due to the messy format it was written in.

"Perhaps it's a legend," Dimentio suggested. "A story born of truth. Something that could be real, but we've no way to prove it."

Blumiere nodded, then carefully took the book from the jester, briefly skimming over the pages. He turned the pages, flipping to the end of the book. He noted how the handwriting had gotten progressively messier. The ink smeared slightly as if the author didn't even wait for it to dry before turning the pages.