Coming to Terms with the Inevitable

Coming to Terms with the Inevitable

"Come on, come on let this be the one that'll save her," Dr. Xin Reen whispered anxiously to the darkness.

On the holo-screen before him, the last few bits of the progress bar filled in. A scene he'd watched more times than he could count. Was that the 170th attempt or the 212th? A few weeks earlier, his brother Junsen the last of his colleagues, finally called it quits, and joined the rest of the nation in bemoaning the coming death of the Matriarch. She'd watched over the country for over two millennia. And though she never ruled it, her influence on its history was near that of a goddess. Yet, despite being viewed as such by many, she was but a High Elf, incredibly long-lived, but still mortal. And as is the fate of all mortals, she was nearing her end. Yet even in the face of the numerous failures, Xin could not compel himself to give up trying to preserve the woman, for his connection with her went beyond that of others.

"She's my mother, I can't just let her go."

It didn't matter that they shared no blood, nor that he was human. She was the woman who raised him, and he would not give up so easily.

Suddenly, a loud, low-pitch double-ring filled the air, and bold red letters flashed onto the screen, Simulation Complete: TREATMENT FAILED. Xin squeezed a fist his muscles straining to resist the urge to slam the desk. The monitor painted the pale brown face glaring at it in an azar light, illuminating the restrained frustration in its dark brown eyes, and its drooping strains of unkempt black hair..

Taking a deep breath that almost echoed in the dark room, he sought to calm himself."

"Easy Xin, easy," he whispered. "Just make a few adjustments and try again...like always."

The message was closed out, and the adjustments were made to the broad collection of numbers and chemical abbreviations occupying the GUI's text boxes. For a moment the chatter of clicking keys dominated the room, then was abruptly cut short. Xin reviewed the alterations.

'Wait, wasn't this method tried?' a thought ran through his mind.

Ignoring it, he took a sip of tea from the thermos next to the screen. Behind where it stood, his tele-slate lay muted. Its dull-lite screen flashed an alert about an incoming call from Yinmei just above the picture of a dark elf woman with night-blue skin and moon-white hair. With one last click, the progress bar regressed and began its task anew, denying the slate even a slight notice from its owner.

"Please! Let it work this time," Xin whispered.

'You already know what the result will be,' rang another thought.

"I made some adjustments."

'Just barely.'

He shook his head with a grunt, then took in a deep breath and let it out a second later in an attempt to control the unruly children bred from the union of frustration and failure.

"I won't give up on mother just yet,"

'Even if there's not much choice in the matter?'
He furrowed his brow and clench a fist. He took another sip of tea. It wrapped the nerves in the relieving feel of a warm fire on a snowy night, eroding away the cold offspring of anxiety and bringing a tiny smile to the lips.

"I can see why mother likes this so much," he whispered to the darkness before taking another sip. "Still can't beat a good flask Yunsho's night-berry cocktail though. Should still have the one he gave me a few months ago. Said I might need it given how things were going." His gaze drifted and lingered onto the lower drawer. "…I suppose one swag wouldn't—" he reached for the drawer, then stopped. "No, better not. Yinmei would kill me, especially with Mother's ceremony—"

A pin of sadness pricked his heart. On screen the progress bar ticked pass 5%, and he clenched his fist in frustration, as a few headlines from earlier in the week flashed into memory:

Doctors Losing Race to Find
Successful Treatment for the Matriarch!

90% Accuracy, but 100% failure,
Medical Simulator Fails to Save the Matriarch!

Death of the Matriarch Imminent,
May not Survive the Week!

LEAK!!
Matriarch to Soon Undergo
Spirit Relinquishing Ceremony!

He grimaced at the last one, and with a rapid, but short shake of the head, tried to put it all out of mind. Immediately, he reached and pulled the lower drawer open, gaze locking onto a small crystal flask, holding a night-bluish liquid and tucked between a row of crystal documents in the back. His eyes lingered for a long few seconds, then closed, as if to smother the embers of anguish.
'…don't mix vice-water with misery, Xin.'

With a sigh, the drawer was shut and attention returned to the holo-screen where the clock read 8:00pm.

"Five hours till the ceremony," he whispered.

'But two and a half until her final dinner, there's still time to get ready.'

He took another sip of tea, and then spun to give a half-glance to the wall behind him. A black suit hung there vaguely visible in the screen's light, next to a white robe with silver linings. He went to it and fiddled with the coat sleeve.

"I should probably change, but," he turned back to the screen. "I can still run a couple more tests."

'Heh, said same thing two hours ago, and the day before that, and the day before—'

He frowned at himself and went to the window next to the robe. A sea of countless crystal lights scratched out below him up to a low mountain plateau, some making like ants along the skyways. Upon the plateau stood the vague outline of some small structures with a large sakura tree shimmering with silver light that instantly caught the eyes of anyone looking, and Dr. Reen's were no exception.

"Mother," he whispered before going silent for a moment, 'Should really get ready.' The man stood with a scowl on his face. Then returned to his desk and chair.

The progress bar ticked past 20%

"Just a few more trials, then I'll—agh," he groaned as the bright lights of the office suddenly flashed on.

"I figured you were still here?" a woman's voice called out.

He lightly groaned in pain, and rubbed his eyes, "Aghh, Yin—could you give a guy a warning?" He was so familiar with the voice, that he could already tell who it was without looking.

She chuckled, "Consider it punishment for ignoring my calls." The dark elf entered wearing thin-framed glasses, a white dress that stood out like her hair against her skin, and carrying a robe much like his own, that she placed on the free remaining hook behind him.

"What do you mean, my slate hasn't—"

With a thought the tele-slate flew off the desk into her hand. After a few taps on the screen, she showed him the ten missed calls. He stared at it with a mixed expression of nervous surprise and embarrassment, and she at him with a raised eyebrow.

"heh heh…sorry about that," he murmured with a nervous smile. "Had a lot on my mind most of the day."

"I know," she responded with an understanding smile, then looked at the screen. The progress bar was a third full, "still trying to find that elusive formula?"

He shrugged, "You know me, I'm stubborn,"

She chuckled, "I know, but I've haven't seen you this stubborn since your pet fish died when we were children. Any progress?"

He let out a resigned sigh, "Do you really have to ask?"

"I suppose not, but I'm worried. Mother's final dinner is in less than two hours. You're going aren’t you?"

His eyes looked at the screen, his face washed in guilt and sadness. "I don't intend to miss it I just—" He bit his lips, "I guess I just can't wrap my mind around it. She's lived for over two thousand years, even survived the Great Cataclysm that should have been the end of civilization, and yet—"

"—it wasn't, because she let go of High Elven pride, the arrogance of fools, that bring sorrow and demise…" Yinmei smiled as she suddenly went into a light upbeat song and dance.

"Yin..." Xin replied with a somber and slightly annoyed tone. He knew what she was trying to do, but really wasn't in the mood.

"What? I'm simply joining you in extolling her virtues," she replied with feigned innocence. She brought a dramatic hand to her chest, "For she made it possible, she sowed the seeds, that would restore life to the world and sprout the lives all lead…"

She looked at him with a gentle gaze and a nudging smile. To which he answered with a dull glance and raised eyebrow, but her gaze still lingered. Then leaning on the arm of his chair, he sighed and in a shallow tone sang. "…For as she journeyed and preserved, searching through shattered buildings and spires, Legacies lost to deprived desires, a gaggle of human children came to her fire..."

"They were so weak and frail, her maternal kindness could not stay unveiled, so as she did once with us, in those war-torn ruins of ashes and soot…" She spun away from the desk like an amateur thespian, finishing her line with a wide bow. Once again she nudged him on with a gentle gaze and smile.

He practically sighed a giggle, and despite shaking his head continued, "…She brought them under her care, and in raising them as her own, to them she would pass, all that she had gathered and known..."

"…She made…" with a brief look, she nudged him to sing the next verse in unison, and with a final chuckling sigh he relented, joining his voice with hers, "...she made it possible, She sowed the seeds, restoring life to the world, and sprouting the lives they would lead…"

"…She guided our ancestors, In restoring life to the arid land, In rebuilding civilization, saving the mortal elves from extinction…" Yinmei sang, spun and embraced him from behind.

"…They lit a beacon of hope for all peoples and races, struggling to survive demonic horrors, wrought by High Elven decadent desire…"

Xin's smile brightened, "…She helped it stay alight, through the 2nd Nether Wars, which threatened to repeat the destruction, that doomed the High Elves to extinction…"

Once more they sang together, "…She made it possible, She sowed the seeds, That are restoring life to the world, and sprouting the lives we all lead...She did all that and more, but the thing WE seven should remember, is that despite all she has achieved, or how revered she maybe, above everything else, she is Dai Ming, our strong, sweet, mother."

The two exchanged smiles then filled the room with a brief burst of laughter.

"Feeling a little better," Yinmei asked.

"A little," he chuckled. He was silent for a moment, "We used to sing that for her when we were kids. Lingshi had written that for her birthday. It was always hard to believe how old she was, she didn't look to have aged even a day pass twenty-five, still doesn't. But I suppose that's what makes the thought of her not being around anymore feel so—so—"

"Unconceivable," Yinmei completed. He gave a slight nod, his smile fading a little. "I know how you feel." She pulled away and went to the window, her eyes locking on the glowing sakura tree in the distance. "She's always had a presence. Even when she wasn't around there was always this feeling that she was, no matter how far away. Just goes to show how powerful she is."

He smirked a little, "And somehow, we got the privilege of calling her mother. Though, there are still more than a few who don't acknowledge that."

"I know," Yinmei replied turning to him. "But it doesn't matter what they think or say. It won't change the fact that she took us in when no one else would. Gave us a home and raised us as her own, bunch of bratty, thieving war orphans led by a ruthless prankster of a delinquent."

"Ruthless? I know I had some behavioral issues in my teens, but I wasn’t that bad of a kid was I," he partially refuted with a puzzled look.

"You once smothered my ears in pie-dough when we were nine and said you were restoring the rest of the pie."

His mouth scrunched into a light pucker, with an almost blank look of realization, "…oh yeah, I did do that", he admitted. "But that was only one—"

"You also tied cat bells to Lingshi's tail and put a dead mouse in her lunch box. Used Yunsho as your "little dwarven armrest" covered Junsen's glasses with black ink while he slept, covered Hino's apprentice mage robes with itching powder, coated Ming-lee's practice bow in glue, and a number of other pranks that often sent us crying to mother." she finished with a sarcastic smile.

Xin sat with a blank, but stunned look on his face, "…Wow. I was a little monster to you guys wasn't I?"

"Yes you were," she confirmed. She walked behind him and with both hands leaned his head back. "But, thanks to mother, you grew out of it and into an adorably handsome science dork." She leaned down and pecked him on the lips. "Who I fell helplessly in love with."

Once again they exchanged smiles. The dark elf laid her forehead against his. The young doctor's heart hummed with a feeling that warmed away the cold born from the spawns of anxiety and frustration. The kind one would savor with closed eyes, while reveling in the company of a lover. If but for a moment the world seem to—

A low pitch double-ring filled the air, disrupting the mood with the force of a fire alarm. Despite being nowhere near as loud, for Xin it held the same impact. The sound was familiar...too familiar. Though he'd lost count of how many times he'd heard it. Was that 171th time or the 213th? Didn't matter, the sound was loathsome, it made the fists clench, the heart ache, and gave rise to a rumble that made him want to scream and cry all at the same time. He'd have let it out in a booming slam upon the desk, were it not for the gentle hand that held it, and the warm touch of her forehead against his own.

He breathed deep for a few moments, "What’s the result?"

"Do you have to ask?" she replied with a sympathetic giggle and smile.

No reply was given. He leaned on the desk, head resting against his hands grasped together as if in prayer. Yinmei stood at his side, rubbing his back.

She eyed the clock in the screen's right bottom corner, "There's about an hour and twenty left before mother's final dinner. Want to try again?"

Xin let out a breath, "I don't understand it, we've extended the average lifespan to a hundred and fifty years. Built ships that can fly, landed on both moons, developed a means of communicating instantly over vast distances, and even found a way to fertilize the wastelands beyond Mother's barrier. And with this program, we developed cures for cancers and diseases that had plagued us for centuries. When science and magic work together there should be nothing we cannot do. So why can't we find a way to give mother just a few more years?"

"Perhaps there's just something to life and death beyond the understanding of magic or science," Yinmei answered. "But you've never been one to let something like that stop you before. So will you continue to try?"

'Why, the result would just be the same.'

"I don't know," he sighed while leaning back in his chair, arms hanging, and head laid back like a defeated rag doll. "What do you think I should do."

"I think you already know what you should do," she replied falling back into a lean against the desk.

"And why do you think that?" he inquired with a sad and force smile.

She measured herself for a second before responding, "When you and Junsen first set out to try and find a way to extend mother's life, I hoped and prayed the spirits would guide you to success. Not just me, but Hino, Ming-Lee, Yunsho, Ling-shi and hundreds of thousands of others across the country, all hoped that you'd succeed." Her smile faded, eyes looking straight out the window at the shimmering sakura tree. "But not long after the project began, I came to realize there was one person who didn't share that sentiment. Even though the whole thing was being done for her benefit."

Her words caught Xin off guard, "Wha—what makes you think that? How—how do you know?"

She chuckled at his at his reaction, "Because I'm her daughter, just as you're her son, and we notice things about her that others do not. Like the slight snorting sound she makes when she laughs out loud," she giggled, "or how easy one can read her emotions when she's really into a book."

"Or how she rolls her eyes when she hears people extol her as a goddess, or sighs after talking to a priest during a visit to a shrine," Xin added, a somber smile forming on his face.

"There's also the glimmer she gets in her eyes whenever she smells Yunsho baking sweets, or how her forehead wrinkles into a soft V, when she gave us spankings." The Dark Elf grinned mischievously, "You're especially familiar with that, along with the stinging feel of her hands."

Xin cringed, "Don't remind me."

She giggled at his expression. "There's other things. The warmth of her rare smile, the gentleness of her embrace. The softness in her voice when she comforts us, or the sternness with which she lectures." Her smile softened, and a somberness entered her voice. "And yet despite all that, there was always this weariness in her eyes. A sad longing in her voice whenever she spoke of her first children, or of the friends and students she'd lost to the throngs and tragedies of time. But more recently, the relief in her face each time she learned the treatment simulations failed. You noticed it too, didn't you?"

"Of course I did. I just—," he sighed. A feeling of helplessness and regret washed through him and turned him mum for a few seconds, "As a kid I was just a ball of trouble for her, between my pranks and the fights I got into at school I was just one big useless burden. But despite it all she was patient with me, continued to be there for me. I'm who I am now because of her. She gave me a future, and I just—" His eyes returned to the holo-screen. "I just wanted to do something for her, to thank her. But at the same time I could never imagine a life, a world, without her."

She took his hand, "I know how you feel, Xin, and as much as I would like mother to stick around, nothing is immortal, and mother she's—"

"I am tired Xin," a voice suddenly echoed through their minds.

Xin shot up, the chair pushed back by the sudden momentum, "Mother?". He looked around instinctively for her. "How long have you been listening?"

"Long enough," she answered, a slight chuckle in her voice. "Xin, I have lived longer than many of my kind should have. After the Great Cataclysm. I thought myself the last of my kind, and sought to preserve whatever I could of our knowledge and civilization. If for no other reason than to keep me from going mad with loneliness. If not for the children I found during those years I might very well have ended my own life."

As her words flowed into his mind so too did her memories, of ages past and present. He saw her as ageless and beautiful as he'd always known her. Her hair a silvery-white and skin a light tawny brown. She wandered an arid wasteland, searching through the massive ruins of once elegant elven metropolises, gathering ancient tomes and books, into a wagon pulled by her telekinesis, and take them to a large ancient tree at the heart of a ruined city, that their ancestors would turn into a great library that still stood at the heart of the capital. Yet, Xin also saw in her face a coldness and indifference he had never seen before. She had been a woman devoid of hope, her eyes empty and distant. Until the day she took in a group of orphaned humans, the children of former slaves struggling to survive the ruined wastes. He watched how her stern and cold idiom softened and felt a warmth flow through him as she slowly came to love the young orphans, and later their children, and grandchildren, as they built what would eventually grow into the capital of a prosperous nation.

"I have watched this nation rise from the small band of children I found huddled near my campfire, to the great country it is today. I have done all I can to help it grow, as one might help their children and grandchildren grow. I have seen it struggle through droughts, famine, plague, and war. Seen its prosperity shine and dim. I have watched so many people live, grow and die, so many, many times. And I am tired. I know the pains of loss all too well, but I also know such pain can be soothed with the help of those closest to you, and those closest to me are you and your siblings, the final children I have raised, and the ones who know me better than anyone else today. I know how grateful you are to me, but you need not repay me. Just watching you grow and mature into the man you are now is thanks enough. But if you must give me something, then join me and your siblings for one final meal. Yunsho cooked everyone's favorites, including night berry pie, and I know how much you enjoy night berry treats. Better hurry, or I may just eat them all myself."

For a moment Xin stood silent, his eyes turned to the screen. The text heralding the results of the simulation were still plaster on it. He'd seen them over a hundred times before. So much that one would think he'd become numb to it, but looking it at still caused his heart to sting. Stepping closer, he closed out the message. Then stared at the screen for a few seconds.

'She's my mother, I don't want to let her go…' he thought. A sigh escaped his lips, and a sad smile took form. 'But I guess some choices, are just inevitable.'

With a few final clicks the computer began shutting down. Yinmei walked to her love, and placed a comforting hand on his back, as he leaned over the desk, a tear trailing down his cheek.

"So, what else did our little dwarf brother make with night berries?"

"Let's just say you won’t be needing that little flask in your desk."

He nodded. Then stood straight, "Alright," he bit his lip, and wiped away another tear from his eye. "Give me a few minutes to change, and you're driving. I'm not really in the mood."

She gave him a caring smile, "That's fine," she embraced him, his head falling into her shoulder. "It will be alright."