Phew... another story... This one is actually quite strange (hey, which of my stories aren't strange?), because I mixed a lot of other things into the initial idea of the story, and it turned into one messy jumble. It's actually supposed to be told in James' POV.
Meh, hope you like it anyways.
Disclaimer: I own Star Fox as much as my neighbours next door. Unfortunately, they haven't even heard of Star Fox yet. Uhmm... get the point?
Fantasy
You don't need to have any sort of magical power which children like to pretend they have, in order to foretell the ending of a story- the ending of a fantasy. But you don't need magic either in order to see what truly is the end- what truly is the end of life, the end of the world.
Ah, when we were young. We dreamed, you see, of the same stories- of magic and beautiful princesses and handsome knights. They were our fantasies where we passed our days, far away from the world where the adults reigned with their fears and evils and tragedies. No, this was only a world of magic which only children of the purest and most innocent of hearts could see. And here, everyone wants to be either the brave knight or the beautiful princess who banishes the evil forever, and everybody wants to end their story with 'happily ever after'.
Of course, all stories end in 'happily ever after'. You don't need the imagination of a child to see that. It is just one of the persistent factors of each and every tale told from generation to generation and beyond. For without a 'happily ever after' to look forwards to- a glimmer of hope left in all darkness, the people won't dream. And without dreams, there is no life.
Ah, but first, what is a dream? Dreams are the hopes of humankind. Everything begins as a dream, and reality starts off only as something far, far away, too far to grasp. But sometimes, just sometimes, with enough hope and enough determination, dreams will weave themselves into truth- the truth of reality. But of course, nobody sees the price paid in blood and tears for these dreams to become real- that is, if it is not they who are the ones paying. But there must be someone to pay the price, right?
And now, the story of the world is being written. Yes, it is a story- and a fantasy it is. Here is a fantasy, which will end in happily ever after, when evil is defeated and good prevails. Of course, it has always been this way. Light will always find a path- whether in the hearts of the people, or courage and bravery in themselves. Nay, no matter what evil throws, no matter how bleak and dreary the situation, good will forever prevail, for it is light. But do not forget- that is only a fantasy.
But what about reality? A fantasy ends at happily ever after, while reality stretches beyond- beyond the 'happily ever after' and into the tragedies of life which do not exist in fantasies. Because eventually, after we open our eyes and see reality- not the dreams which haunt it so, we will understand that all is hopeless and lost. No- not as in the stories, when no matter how grave and how hopeless all seems, light and good will always prevail. No, for this is reality. And in reality, it is not only the author who holds the pen, but a thousand other hands seek to grab it away, or to change the lines and weave their own tragedies into the fibers of the tale. In a fantasy, the last line will always be 'happily ever after', but here in life, the only last line that will ever exist is death.
And it doesn't matter if he was happy or she was sad or all was fighting bravely until the last breath. Because in death, nothing matters anymore- all good and evil alike will be reunited, and both will cease to exist. It is only the living who are good or evil, for the dead are the dead and nothing will bring them or any part of them back- not their light, not their darkness- only nonentity evermore.
By the time you realize that and wake up from your foolish dreams, it is most always too late, my friend. Because in the end, no matter how splendid and wonderful, no matter how close you have come to grasping it in your hands at last, a dream will always stay a dream, even if it becomes a part of reality. For dreams don't last forever, and neither does life- and with life comes the dreams of the living, but with death, all is lost forever in the abyss of nothingness.
But sometimes, it is the living that will carry out your dreams if you happen to die, if your dreams soar beyond your reach while you fall back down. But of course, then, it won't be your dream anymore. It will now be the dreams of the living, and will always stay the dream of the living- as long as it is passed down to be dreamt and burn on in the hearts of the people. But eventually, if nobody keeps on burning for the sake of their hapless existence, they shall die out.
But wait. Stop there, and let us take a look at this world. What do you see? There is only war- the raging cries of lost souls and broken hearts, echoing through the blood-drenched land. All is desolate and dark, and there is no burning hope in sight. But there will be a hero who will emerge one day, you say; a hero who emerges from the shadows and defeats the darkness once and for all. It has always been this way- in the stories of the days bygone, the stories told from each generation to the next. But it does not end there, my friend- for only in fantasies will things end at happily ever after. No, in this truth, this reality, there is much more to that.
And here is a story. A story of a man who wished to let war rage- so that he could change the world for the better of his people. And another story, of a naïve child who wished to stop this war because he knew that the man were wrong. But only one of them are right, am I correct? For to say who is right is only an opinion- since their sides are so different, then a person can only agree with one or the other. But they both had their dreams, did they not- one to make war for the better of his people, and the other trying to fight in this war and end it- all for the better of the world they have come to understand?
Ha, and I- the naïve, innocent child- I thought that I was the one who was right. The hero who had tried to stop this war. But what is a hero? Only now have I realized that it does not matter if the deeds one has committed are good or evil (of course, everyone sees themselves as good and the other as evil), but of the impression he has upon the rest of humanity. If someone finds that this crooked path led astray is the path he too wishes to follow, then the person who has established this path is a hero. If someone looks to admire the deeds that he has done for the world and the rest of humanity, then he is again a hero- because his dreams live on.
But to be a hero, one must fight. A hero will shed more blood than light- that you must come to understand. It is not as simple as the heroic knight defeating the evil dragon and rescuing the princess now, my friend. It is the hopes of all of humanity which rest on your shoulder- or more precisely, the hopes of the side of humanity which you see as good- your people. And you must fight on for them- not simply because you think that it is the right thing to do like the knight thought as he rescued the princess, but because it is your destiny—your life- your purpose. And this is the reason why you shed so many tears and so much blood in vain, in pursuit of the forgotten dreams and hopes which had once been yours- before you stopped at last, and looked into the face of death. And I, I have seen it all. I now know that there is no other ending, no other option, no other way.
And as light will always find a way to come through in the times of darkness, there is always the stubborn darkness that will try to snuff out all light- for as long as there is darkness, there will be light, and as long as the two fight to gain the upper hand, there will be suffering. And even if the darkness recedes at last, one day it will rekindle itself from the ashes of the past- no matter how far away they may seem to be in the eyes of the people. And once again, there will be suffering and war- for this cycle will never end, until the day the world stands still and realizes that all these dreams being pursued have been wasted on the lies which false hope and scattered dreams have given. And perhaps, the world will really end- not because of the wars which have condemned it so, but instead, because there is no more war- nothing else to strive for, nothing else to fight for and burn for and live for- and there will be nothing else to die for.
And I had finally realized, only when it was too late- the die have been cast, and I am forever condemned to the wrong path which my blind eyes had chosen for me. You see, I've always been so naïve. But then again, isn't it the same with the whole of humanity? Though our worlds are entirely apart, we are the same foolish creatures- the so-called good and so-called evil. And because I now understand the futility and purposelessness of it all, life yields no more meaning to me. And so, I start to die- die from the inside, where the agony of living without living eats away at my heart- until simply, there is nothing left except for the barren truth of the simple truth of life- not the truth of the lies, which in themselves are truth. And when this truth shines upon one as it has upon me, then truly, nothing shall be left except for the bitter taste of blood and tears shed so long ago- and a mere empty shell of yesterday that yields no more meaning for tomorrow.
Ah, I have said too much. But all I want child, is for you to understand- not the tragedies of life to befall upon you so, but instead, I want you to understand how to live- live without the regrets of living a life without life. Though you hear me not now, one day, you will come to know these things. One day, you will see for yourself the fruitless dreams of humanity. But now, find peace in your fantasies. Find peace and happiness in your stories of princesses and knights and 'happily ever after' You are still too young for these things- even if death is the only ending, and that eventually, all dreams will be shattered and you will finally see the truth evading you so long. No, for now, forget these things, but let my words remain long-gone echoes so that the day you see with your own eyes and hear with your own heart, you will come to understand my words. For isn't life too short? Live it through to the end, no matter what. Pursue your dreams and your fantasies until the very last- until death stares you in the eye and crush all- and even then, fight until you have nothing left to fight for.
Now, my only wish is that I'd been able to tell you sooner, so that the path which you will choose can really and truly be the path you wish to walk without regret- even if all is lost, you will still find happiness in having known that the path you have chosen is the path your heart led you to walk.
And before the darkness sweeps over my senses for the last time, I gaze into the desolate, starlit sky, and I see a dream.
A dream of light and hope.
A story which ends in happily ever after.
A fantasy.