Here we are. The third and final part of The Diamond Compass.
This opener is going to pretty much conclude Roth's story arc as it deals with his internal conflicts and his understandings of who he is and why he has change so much over the course of the story. It's definitely a bit confusing and a bit of a mindf-k, but oh well.
I do not own Minecraft. Review if you like what you see.
As the hours slipped away, there was barely anything left to Roth's own name. His childhood had disappeared yet again and he was without anything to remember. He could only sit in his clinic bed, waiting for his next visitor, wasting away the rest of his life. Despite Sabre_Mace's efforts, Roth knew it all along – the world was doomed. There was no hope in saving it. It was dead to begin with.
The door to the clinic opened and Garfunkel walked in with a book. He smiled and handed the book to Roth along with some ink, "Thought you might get bored here, Master Roth. Wouldn't want that, now would we?" He pulled up a chair and sat down beside the bed, "I can't remember for the life of me when I was in the hospital for the last time. It was long ago."
"That really helps." Roth said sarcastically. The atmosphere of the hospital was taking effect on his personality. A feeling of doom and despair had begun to run through his body once he forgot his childhood again. It might've been only him that experienced that feeling, though. After all, he didjust remember what really happened to his family and how he watched his own father die in front of him without even knowing it be his father.
Garfunkel opened the book in Roth's hands to the first page where a signature was left, "See that? It's the signature of Master Herobrine himself. It shows that you fought alongside the great warrior once before. I'm mighty jealous of you."
"Yeah, I'm sure you are," Roth closed the book and threw it to the end of his bed, "listen, why don't you treat me like a normal person? That's all I want right now. I feel weak knowing that my life just flashed right before my eyes. All I want is to feel normal again."
"Understandable. Yes, quite," Garfunkel nodded and stood right up, stepping over to the door quickly, "I'm sorry to be a nuisance to you, Master Roth. I'll be sure to give you peace and quiet for the rest of the day. Goodbye for now." He left through the door.
Roth remained in bed, stretching and yawning now that he was alone. He remained still, under his wool covers, bored out of his mind. Maybe he made the wrong decision. Talking with someone might have been the only thing keeping him from going insane in the clinic. He sat up and looked around the room for something to keep him entertained for the rest of his stay.
It's then that he eyed the book.
He grabbed it and flipped through the blank pages. It was a journal that Garfunkel had probably brought so that Roth could write down his thoughts and feel like he was talking to someone. There could've been another reason, but that didn't matter. Roth finally had something to do. He laid back down, grabbed ink from his bedside table, and began writing.
This bed is uncomfortable.
"Well, that seems like enough for today." Roth said and closed the book.
A great wave of drowsiness just blasted over him. He put the ink and book on his bedside table before settling back under his covers. He felt cold yet warm underneath the covers. It was like a great sickness beginning to spread within him. He tossed and turned before drifting away into a fantasy world of his own imagination.
When he awoke again, Roth found himself somewhere completely different and unfamiliar. He was standing in the middle of a field of wheat. There was a cliff nearby and somebody standing on that cliff. The day was turning into evening, giving the sun a red tint. Something felt odd about the scenario to Roth, though. He couldn't put his finger on it.
He approached the person on the cliff who turned around with a smile.
"How's it going, Roth?" Sabre_Mace asked, giving the knight a hug.
Roth pushed him away and nearly fell over, "Sabre_Mace? I thought you were going to get The Diamond Compass? Come on, where are we? Why are we here? What's going on? Tell me!"
Sabre_Mace laughed, "Relax, no worries."
"I'm not worrying, I'm just curious. It's a nice place and all." Roth began to look around the field a bit more. Over the cliff was a vast sea full of squids.
The sun was beginning to set beyond it. This was paradise to him. The more he remained there, the more he yearned to stay there forever. His thoughts were slipping away completely.
Before he could fall over happily in the fields, he noticed Sabre_Mace reach for something on his back. Roth backed up and reached for his sword, which was not there. He continued backing up, keeping his eyes on Sabre_Mace as he approached with his diamond sword. A grin was spreading across his face. It was a malicious grin. The grin of a killer.
"Listen here, Roth," Sabre_Mace said, cornering Roth to the cliff, "I have done some horrible things. I have watched many things die in front of me, both literally and figuratively. If you don't decide what you want anymore, well… let's just say I'd hate to watch you die as well."
Sabre_Mace swung his sword at Roth who sidestepped out of the way. He was quick to move away from the cliff and behind Sabre_Mace, who was
paying very close attention. He was a bit hunched over, looking dazed and confused while he waited to attack. It was jarring, to say the least.
"Alright, Sabre_Mace," Roth started trying to make his friend cooperate with him, "let's put down the sword before someone gets hurt, alright? Sound good?"
Of course Sabre_Mace didn't listen. He ran ahead and began swinging wildly at Roth, who began running to avoid the dangerous environment. Tension continued to build up between the two despite Roth completely unsure of what he had done to set Sabre_Mace off. He just kept running until he came across another cliff, almost identical to the previous one.
The setting that he was present in began to sink into him. He began to feel differently while Sabre_Mace continued running after him barbarically. He looked over to Sabre_Mace, tensed up, and positioned his right foot behind him and his left foot in front. As his murderous enemy approached, Roth threw his arms around his waist and hauled him closer to him. The painful stab of the sword in his back wasn't enough to bring him down. Instead, he forced Sabre_Mace up and over the cliff. He stood there, the diamond sword still stuck in his back, watching as Sabre_Mace continued to fall into the mysterious sea of the beyond.
"In death there can be no love," a mysterious voice began to tell him, "in death there is only life without fulfillment."
"Fulfillment, you say?" Roth asked. He was slowly beginning to feel light headed. The feeling was nauseating and became a big nuisance to him. He fell to his knees and tried to remove the sword from his back, but only shook it enough that it began to slice up the inside of his back, "What… what fulfillment do I lack?"
The voice laughed, "That is for you to decide for yourself."
The world faded to black as Roth gave into the pain.
"What fulfillment… what have I fulfilled?" Roth wondered aloud as he noticed he was now floating in a black void of nothingness, "All I've done is served Bastil, but has that led me anywhere? No, sir. I've been stuck here since day one, only capable of holding a sword and protecting those that I truly do care for. Watching as people walk away from me, worshipping a god that may or may not be there instead of the man who saved them, which is I, has always led me over the edge of insanity. A conundrum, I suppose, but what else am I to think? Am I to just let such actions continue? Should I just go on and continue living without praise for my actions? That's all I want!"
He was now standing in the field of wheat again, his sword in hand.
"I just want happiness." He said.
Roth noticed right off the bat that the temperature had decreased drastically even though it was still just the same field of wheat he was standing in just before. He shivered and watched his breath form into clouds of smoke every time he breathed. There were clouds off in the far distance, but at the moment it was still sunny where he was.
He turned around and saw, standing rather close to him, Frank. He was dressed in a black robe with two guns in both hands. He had scars all over his face and looked sad for once, "My my, Roth. We meet at last. I never thought I'd see your face."
"Is that how you've always felt for me, Frank? You never seemed this affectionate for anyone but Serenade." Roth noticed Frank cocking his two guns as if he were to fire them. He began to grow the space between the two.
"You don't know me, Roth," Frank aimed one gun at Roth, who defended himself with his sword, "perhaps I'm not the selfish one as you would think. I know what everyone is like and how they act. You do not. You are the selfish one, after all, and you fail to notice it."
As soon as the first bullet was shot, Roth had made his move. He rolled and jumped at Frank, who ran out of the way of Roth's sword and cocked his guns again. He began rapidly firing bullets while running sideways. Roth knew that dodging all of these would be a pain and began to see a strategy in the midst of the action. He began running in the same direction as Frank, running a bit faster every time Frank shot another round of bullets. This way, he remained out of the line of fire.
Since he had his chance, Roth began to run forth and towards Frank, who just kept firing. He seemed to have an unlimited amount of ammo with him. This didn't matter to Roth, though, since he knew what had to be done. Once he was close enough, Roth disarmed Frank of both of his guns, also cutting off his hands in the process.
Frank fell to the ground, bleeding a ton of blood. Roth stood over him, his sword covered in blood. It hurt him badly to have to watch his friend suffer through so much pain. Then he realized what he had just thought.
Friend.
That's what Frank was. A friend, not an enemy.
Roth grabbed Frank's arm and pulled him to his feet. Blood got onto Roth's hand. He tried to wipe it away, but began ignoring it when it only smeared. He looked on as Frank gaped in shock at his bloody wrists. His pain could be seen entirely from his eyes. He was crying in awe.
"You did all of this!" Frank shouted.
"I'm sorry, Frank. It had to be done." Roth said.
Frank looked up at Roth, who backed away as soon as he saw his friend's eyes. There were no eyes anymore. It was only black with blood flowing from the sockets. He smiled and opened his mouth wide. The barrel of a gun emerged from inside and made a cocking sound. It pointed directly at Roth, who dropped his sword in fright.
As soon as the bullet was fired, the world disappeared again.
"I understand now," Roth began thinking about his experiences, "that Frank is just a friend. That made no sense, though. What was I supposed to be shown? I knew he wasn't an enemy or anything. I just didn't consider him my ally. More of an anti-hero, I guess."
The black void Roth was floating in slowly became lighter.
"Maybe that's what it all meant. I knew he was my friend all along. I just needed to see the true side of him. He isn't a bad guy like I thought him to be," Roth began to understand, "he's just another guy. Like me."
The light surrounded him as he noticed he was standing on the edge of the cliff. He looked behind him to see the massive field of wheat and Garfunkel, of all people, standing in it. He stood there as if he was about to start running. The old man looked over at him and waved, "Master Roth, over here!"
Roth walked over to Garfunkel, "What're you doing here?"
"You see that over there?" Garfunkel pointed out to the sunset.
"What, the horizon?"
"Yes. I'm going there."
Roth stepped back and watched as Garfunkel stretched. He would bend over and crack his back much faster than he should have normally been able to. Once he was ready for whatever he was about to do, he stopped and looked over to Roth, who was standing there with his hands in his pockets.
"Are you coming as well?" Garfunkel asked.
"What? Where?"
"The horizon. Are you coming with me?" He asked impatiently.
What did the old man mean?
Roth hesitantly approached Garfunkel again. They stood side by side, facing the cliff and sunset. Garfunkel had the look of hope and determination on his face as he waved his arms back and forth a bit. Roth stood there silently, expecting to have to follow Garfunkel's lead.
"Are you ready?" Garfunkel asked.
Roth nodded, still unsure of what was happening.
The two began running. At first they were slow, but they picked up speed as they neared the cliff. Eventually, they reached the edge of the field and found themselves approaching the edge of the island. Roth looked at Garfunkel as he continued running. He must have not been thinking ahead.
"Garfunkel, where are we going?" Roth asked, looking ahead to the edge of the cliff and the water below.
"Beyond." Garfunkel whispered and dove off the cliff. Roth stopped just short and watched as the old man began to become one with the air. He didn't fall to his death below; he began flying smoothly around, laughing and having the best time of his life. He didn't want to stop. He even began to forget that Roth was still there, "Master Roth, let's go! Let's go beyond, Master Roth!"
"You go ahead," Roth said, taking a seat on the cliff, "I'm fine here."
"Are you sure?" Garfunkel kept flying.
"Absolutely," Roth kicked his feet in the air beside the cliff, "But Garfunkel…"
"Hm?" Garfunkel looked back before flying off.
Roth smiled, "I'll miss you."
The island fell apart below him.
"Alright, alright, maybe I have been wrong all along. You can't blame me, though," Roth said to himself while floating in the black void, "it's all just been a game, sort of. I've been stuck on this path to uselessness. Garfunkel helped me, and I already realized that. I already realize all the friends that I have. I don't know what I'm being shown anymore."
Below him another island began to form. It had no wheat. It was just straight grassy plains with flowers planted everywhere. As he looked down upon the field in wonder, he noticed he was falling. He was falling really fast, too. To the point where impact would kill him instantly.
It didn't, though.
He fell to the ground and noticed it felt like a soft blanket made of wool. He remained still on his stomach, becoming acquainted to the cozy feeling. He smiled and sighed, closing his eyes to go to sleep. All those things he had endured only led him here – to another paradise. It mattered not where he was. It only mattered whether he made that place his own paradise or not.
As he was slowly drifting off to sleep, he felt something hard fall onto his back. He jumped in surprise and rolled over to see SunRose sitting beside him, laughing uncontrollably. She was dressed in a white dress with her hair braided and wet, "I've been looking everywhere for you, Roth! Come on, let's go pick flowers!"
"Flowers?" Roth shook his head, "I'd rather not. I'll just go back to sleep."
"But all weddings need flowers!"
Roth sat back up instantly, "Weddings?"
"Yeah, your wedding, remember?" SunRose pulled Roth to his feet, "Come on, there are plenty of flowers everywhere. Let's hurry so you aren't late!"
The two of them began running through the fields of grass, grabbing whatever flowers they passed. It wasn't until he became separated from SunRose that Roth noticed he was wearing a black tuxedo. He adjusted it without even considering that he was wearing it for a wedding he never knew about.
He continued to straighten it until SunRose appeared again from behind him.
"Come on! We have enough flowers! Let's go!"
The moment of reveal was upon him.
Roth followed SunRose across the fields to a small stage with nothing else around it. He was pushed on there by SunRose who disappeared into the air right after. While he stood there, holding the flowers in his sweaty palms, he looked around to see if there was even an audience there to witness the ceremony. Not a single person showed up.
The sound of footsteps caught his attention and made him look across the stage to Serenade, who had stepped onto stage. She was wearing the same white dress that SunRose was wearing. She looked stunning and carried her own collection of flowers in her hands, "Shall we?"
What was Roth to say? He couldn't simply deny marrying Serenade. While it would make him happy, it wasn't what he wanted. He realized this as he stood, facing her. He dropped the flowers, ran forward, and kissed her right on the lips. She nearly fell over, red in the face, when Roth stepped back.
"My my, what a man." She smiled.
"Now go away." Roth said.
Serenade raised an eyebrow, "Excuse me?"
"You heard me!" Roth shouted, "Go away! Get outta here!"
"Roth, I'm your fiancée! Don't do this to me!" She was beginning to cry.
Roth reached behind him out of instinct and felt the handle of his sword sticking out from his back. He grabbed it and pulled on it without feeling pain.
He ran forward and impaled Serenade in the stomach with the blade. He smiled as he watched her fall over lifelessly.
Her body suddenly disappeared, leaving only a white dress.
Then there was the sound of thunder in the distance.
And then nothing.
Roth sat up instantly in his hospital bed, drowning in sweat. He looked around cautiously, wincing at the light of the bedside lamp. He turned it off and began to calm himself down. He rejoiced a bit in the dark before standing up and exiting from his room. He wandered down to the main office of the clinic where a doctor and Garfunkel sat, talking to each other.
The doctor looked over, "Oh, he's awake."
"Are you feeling okay, Master Roth?" Garfunkel asked.
"Okay?" Roth said aloud, "Yeah, I'm fine."
Garfunkel sighed and walked over to give Roth a hug, "I'm sorry I had annoyed you back then. I know you don't always appreciate the company. I know you are still only getting over your past, but I wanted you to know that there are people here to help you."
Roth stood still, feeling Garfunkel's warm embrace make him feel something. It was an odd feeling of sincerity; of beauty; of happiness. He stood there, his mind foggy and sight blurred. He felt safe.
"I always knew that, Garfunkel," Roth embraced back, "I never forgot that you guys were there. Even if I don't remember my past, I know that there will be more history to make in the future."
"That's my boy." Garfunkel chuckled.
"Right," Roth thought hard about those words, "your boy."
