...

you start at the beginning, weak, but resourceful. along the way, you pick up more skills and powers and break through barriers you couldn't breach before. you pick up the pace, face greater demons and greater evils. with each battle, you grow more weary yet more determined than before to keep going. you start to doubt the purpose of your struggles, but something inside compels you forward, through the mire, one foot in front of the other. each step grows heavier with the weight of the world chipping away at your shoulders. and just when you think you can't take anymore...

the boss fight.

deep down you knew it was around the corner, but you can't help feeling surprised. all the signs were there: the calm corridor to the quiet room, the lack of lesser evils to push through, but a thickness in the air that slowly chokes your breath away. and yet, there it is, staring you in the face, knocking the wind out of you. it can smell your fear; you can't hide it, and even if it weren't so palpable, it shows in your eyes.

and that is what the boss is counting on. it's counting on you to crumble under the weight of the world and your own fears. it's counting on you to give up and walk away because you know there's nothing you can do to stop it from doing what it's designed to do: consume you.

yet there is something the boss doesn't know: though you are battle weary, beaten and bruised, morally bashed and your heart is in pieces down by your stomach, you STILL will fight. there is no such thing as giving up in the face of such evil, even if it means your own demise. and so you stand your ground, pick up your best weapon and charge headfirst into the malestrom.

the boss certainly didn't count on that. and as it cries its last, futile cries for help from its minions which never come, it whithers under the dead weight of its OWN ego. and for the first time in a long while you laugh because you see surprise on ITS face. better yet, defeat.

with the boss defeated, the battle is over. but the war for your own life wages on, even though you don't see it yet. as you walk away from the room, you breathe a little easier. the minions part a path for you--they know you can take care of evil now--and you can see the sunlight breaking through the opening of the lair. and you emerge victorious.

but noone told you what would happen should you win. as determined as you were, you didn't see an end to the battle. you figured even if you won, it would take your body and soul to oblivion to do it. but yet, you are still here. you are alive, breathing. you can taste, smell, hear, see and feel every piece of air, grain of dirt and damp corridor you walk through.

something is missing. it's your heart, your purpose. somewhere along the way, through the dungeons and murky pathways you lost your footing, your friends got in over their heads and left you, and everything you cared about was swept further away with each step towards your final confrontation.

and so you head home, pondering what the meaning of "home" really is, because you know that nothing you care about is there. in fact, you're not sure if there IS anything you care about anymore. you were so consumed by the oncoming battles that you lost track of who YOU were, what good you could do in the world besides rid it of this one evil.

then it hits you.

the evil won.

it consumed you, who you were before all this, leaving you with not quite nothing, but close enough. you lost your identity and your hope. people tell you to believe in a happy ending, but when it comes, how happy is it really? in time, this will all fade away, but what will be left in its place?

this is what they don't tell you about a hero's ending.

-z