The Taste of the End of the World

Lynn’s heart stopped beating. It was like she saw a ghost. Or in this case, the complete opposite of one.

She could not hurl an age-related insult at this “Tim” at all.

Raven black hair without a single strand of grey. Porcelain skin preserved by regeneration at its prime. Perfect posture for a soldier. It was uncanny how this younger version differed from the actual one.

With one sole exception. Wrinkles. Not from age, but anger. He was looking right at Lynn with so much spite, even the abyss would retreat in fear. If looks could kill, his was genocide. The kind of gaze that would win a staring contest against a mirror.

It was this burning vengeance behind his eyes that gave Lynn pause. Her heart skipped a beat, and she hated it. Everything about him was exactly her type.

Shorter than her? Check.

Royally pissed off? Check.

Young and dangerous? Check.

Her craven fiancé could only dream of looking like this. Not only him, not a single Immortal in the entire kingdom was even close to meeting these standards of hers. They were all content with their lives. Made complacent through their immortality. But this 18-year-old-looking hothead in front of her with a chip on his shoulder? This was exactly the kind of guy she could manipulate into turning the kingdom upside down with her.

But the princess shook her head, derailing the train from reaching imagination station. This was Tim she was thinking about. That permanently depressed mid-life crisis on two legs. Who knows what skeletons this Aberration was hiding in his closet? On top of that, this young version of him might probably be hundreds of years old. Instant red flag.

“Tada! What do you think?”

Lynn was so preoccupied with her fantasies, she was taken aback by the sudden appearance of the woman from before. She stood right beside young Tim, almost like she was showing him off for some reason. With both of them side-by-side, it was evident that they were related. The only question was how.

But the expression the woman wore was nothing like what she had when she was smoking on top of the corpse mountain. She was happy. Annoyingly so. A complete contrast from the murderous young Tim next to her. What happened between the previous flashback and this one?

The scene this time was also a lot different. The sunlight was normal, as were the shadows being cast. Young Tim and the woman were standing at the entrance of some kind of building. Its design was futuristic, but its time period eluded Lynn entirely. Thankfully, the familiar green grass she was standing on wasn’t. Trimmed and freshly mowed, this had to be somebody’s lawn.

“You made him look exactly like you. What are you, a narcissist?”

An unfamiliar voice answered the question posed by the woman. This new voice was instantly recognizable. Modulated and synthesized, it belonged to a mech-human. Lynn turned around to face its source, and her suspicions were spot on.

The intimidating figure of a large robot greeted her with its silhouette. It stood right beside Harlow, both of whom were hidden in darkness. Their towering heights were almost similar.

“My boy Ewantree looks perfect!” The dragon turned his neck sharply to face the robot. “Hah, you’re just jealous because you can never be human!”

“Wait a sec.” The robot held out his palm right in front of Harlow’s snout. “I’m getting a transmission. It’s from Pot.”

Harlow asked, “Who?”

“It says, ‘Hi kettle, you’re BLACK!’”

Lynn didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“Hahah!” The dragon guffawed. “Good one, Biz! I love your sense of humor. Show me where you downloaded it, pretty please?”

Biz? Based on all the clues so far, Lynn had no doubt this robot was Byzantium.

“ENOUGH!” Tim roared, shocking Lynn out of her thoughts. “This is a waste of time. I don’t need to replace this stupid human form.” He turned around, but not before giving the woman a venomous glare. “Keep your experiments to yourself. I have casualties to tend to.”

He entered the building, leaving the woman utterly disheartened. Luckily for her, the metal door was automatic. If he could slam it, he definitely would.

A painful silence lingered in the air, punctuated by the door’s electronic sliding.

“There there.” The silhouette of Harlow’s tail curled over to the front of the building, patting the woman on the head. “You know the boy didn’t mean it.”

Byzantium chimed in. “Yeah. Look at it this way. At least he didn’t blow up a town again, right? He’ll come around. Give him a bit of time.”

The woman’s gaze moved from her feet to the two shadowy figures, slowly and trembling. “I-It’s fine. I’ll do everything I can to earn back his trust.”

As the woman looked forward, determination alight in her gaze, the entire space flashed white once more. This time, Lynn was prepared, shielding her sight from the blinding light. She couldn’t help but wonder why the Insanity Engine was showing her glimpses of the past. And just who was that woman?

After a few seconds, Lynn reopened her eyes once the light gave way to darkness. This time, the scenery changed to a vast, empty desert under the night sky. Harlow and Byzantium were present once again, but their shadowy figures almost made them invisible in this new environment. If not for the flickering campfire in the middle and the receding moonlight, it would have been impossible for her to perceive them.

The two giants huddled around the tiny, human-sized campfire. Even the thatched hut by the side was utterly dwarfed by their enormous presence. But with the two of them close by, Lynn felt warm. Not only because they blocked the cold desert wind, but because she started to see them as guardian deities. A bit like how some cultures in The Mids erected statues of mythical warriors and "gods" by the entrance of buildings. Supposedly, for protection and warding off evil.

But here, the two giants were intimidating, yet friendly. No wonder Tim had them as companions.

The younger version of that traitor was leaning against the hut with an annoyed face, just begging to be teased. In his hands was a clay bowl filled with some kind of broth. While it seemed unimpressive, its scent was tempting. The princess had to remind herself that everything she was witnessing was an illusion, no matter how realistic all these sensations were.

As if to whet her appetite even further, two gigantic bowls plopped into existence, one in front of Harlow, the other in front of Byzantium. Both shared the same soup as Tim’s; the collective aroma completely overpowered the dry, dusty air of the desert.

“Even dragons and robots are gonna love this one!” The woman emerged from the hut, bending under the top frame of the open doorway. “Try it!”

“What’s it made of?” Tim asked.

But the woman never answered, simply flashing a wide smile in his direction.

Byzantium stuck his finger into the bowl like it was a straw. “Ooo?” Pleasant surprise left the bot’s speakers. But the moment his silhouette turned to Harlow, he complained, “Hey! You put extra stuff into Harlow’s bowl again!”

“I-I had extra ingredients, p-plus Harlow did the hunting so…”

The dragon minded his own business. His tail wrapped around the base of the bowl, picking it up and guiding it towards his snout. In one go, he drank the soup, the XXXL-sized bowl looking like a teacup. Only after a satisfied burp did he chime in.

“My dear metallic friend, dinner always tastes better if you had a part in making it.”

Byzantium scoffed. “You two should just go get a room already.”

“Biz!” The woman flared, her cheeks rosy.

Lynn had to stop her own jaw from dropping. The poor girl was clearly head over heels for the dragon. Was this even the same woman who sat on top of the pile of corpses, smoking cigarettes, and threatening the dragon to “get out of her way?” What in the king’s name happened between all these moments in history?

On second thought, maybe it was better she never found out.

Tim commented, ending the ongoing argument. “It’s… good.”

Silence. Even he seemed shocked, wondering why the banter stopped. His three other party members stared at him. Lynn assumed that was the case for Harlow and Byzantium, given that they were dark silhouettes for some reason. She imagined them having the same stunned reaction as the woman.

“HUH?!?!?” True enough, all three expressed their surprise.

Byzantium asked, “Ewantree actually likes something?! Have we won the Aberration War?”

“My boy… you’ve grown…” Harlow sniffled.

The woman was the most excited out of them. “W-W-What is it that you like?”

“The saltiness. It’s just right.”

“I’ll make you some more right away!”

The chef vanished into the hut. And with her disappearance, the scene ended, fading into white.

Lynn rubbed her eyes, questioning what she had just seen. Questioning if there was even a reason for all these memories. More importantly, she wondered how she would be able to return to reality, if there was still any left. After a longer wait compared to the other memories, the next one finally arrived. This time, the scenery was all too familiar.

She was back in the cavern. The sight of the dazzling blue gemstones and outcrops brought relief to her chest. It was nice to see the place in its original form, with a variety of minerals all over the place rather than just salt. But when she looked closer, those distinct salt pillars—the sacrifices—were absent altogether.

Harlow’s silhouette took up a large chunk of the chamber. The dragon lay on the ground, curled up as if he were asleep. But then he spoke, his voice much softer than before:

“Again? How many times has it been already?”

“Weird way of saying you miss me.”

Lynn turned towards the unfamiliar voice. To her surprise, it was the woman. Only this time, much, much older.

Barely recognizable, she looked even older than the Tim from the present. Assuming mortal lifespans, she was easily pushing 60. Wrinkles adorned her face. Her cheeks sagged. If not for her distinct smile, Lynn might have mistaken her for someone else; her voice was already raspy to the point of unidentifiability.

“You were here yesterday. Go do something else with your life.” The dragon advised, not out of spite, but out of genuine concern. “Travel the Spire or something.”

“Like Ewantree? I’m not immortal, you know.” As if to accelerate her demise, she lit a cigarette. “What’s so bad about spending time with an old friend?”

“Your old friend wants to nap.”

“Not before having this!”

With a wave of her hand, the woman summoned a huge clay bowl out of thin air. The familiar scent of the broth from the desert filled the chamber almost immediately.

“Before telling me to ‘travel the Spire,’ you should go out of your cave sometime, you lazy old dragon.” She walked up right next to Harlow, sitting down with a bowl of her own in her hand. “Eat something other than my cooking for once.”

“Your cooking makes it hard to like anything else.”

“Hah!”

They enjoyed the soup in silence. After a while, Harlow remarked:

“You know, I missed my boy. He’d love to taste this again. The saltiness always hits the spot. Nothing else like it.”

“I’m sure he discovered some other cooking that he liked even more.” There was a subtle sadness to her voice.

“Nah. Have more faith in yourself." Harlow's tail reached out to give the old woman headpats. “I mean, he’s still using the human form you’ve made for him after all these years."

After a bit of pondering, she asked, “You… want me to get him to visit?

“It's fine. He’s a busy man now. Not just a boy anymore. Besides, you being here is enough for me.”

The world faded into white. Lynn barely even registered the flow of time. She was still in the cave, but everything was about to change.

“You lazy old dragon!” The woman’s voice echoed from the entrance. “There was a cave-in. I had to do some renovation. Why can’t you—”

But by the time she reached the chamber, her expression warped to horror.

“Harlow!”

She rushed over to the dragon. From his silhouette alone, he looked much skinnier. Lynn could only imagine what the woman saw that made her panic this much.

“I-I’d go g-get Ewantree right away. He’ll know how to hea—”

“Please... don’t leave… me…”

“I’m here! I’m here for you! Just hang on!”

Another flash of white. Lynn was still processing what she saw when the scene returned to the cavern.

“Harlow! I did it!” The woman could be heard from outside the chamber. But instead of the old, gravelly voice, it was the voice of her younger self. “I’ve created a spell that can he—”

But the dragon was gone. Not even his silhouette was there. The cavern felt oppressively heavy with his absence. But Lynn could already guess—the dragon was dead.

He left behind a devastated friend standing by the entrance. Yet, she had no expression. Not even a face. Her entire body had been turned to metal. No doubt a consequence or a requirement of the spell she has created.

Slowly, she stepped forward. Lynn could only imagine what she was going through. To curse herself with immortality just as the one she loved died. To watch her entire world fall apart, mere moments too late.

Lynn expected the scene to flash white, but there was none. Instead, it was like watching a time-lapse. The Mage of Ruin stood there in the middle of the cavern, unmoving, as the entire space gradually but noticeably shifted through the passage of time.

Brief moments of other robots entering the chamber, only to be turned to salt, interrupted the time-lapse. Interrupted her mourning. Years flashed by in mere seconds. And yet, Weissilde kept her promise. She never left Harlow, even after he left her.

Lynn lost count of the number of salt pillars in the chamber. The number of sacrifices that went into the cavern for nothing. There was no evil to be sealed away here. Just the depressing sight of a lady unable to move on from her love against a backdrop of intruders being turned to salt, rising and crumbling over time.

But when the Mage turned her head to face Lynn, the time-lapse ended. Everything flowed like normal once more. And with it, a question was posed directly to the princess. A question that shattered the fourth wall between them.

“Is the saltiness… just right?”