After the passage of a few weeks, Brock’s condition continued to deteriorate. He grew increasingly frail, spending most of his time confined to his room, lying in bed, and displaying a lack of energy or motivation.
Rythmeus and I exhaustively searched for a cure to aid Brock, but our efforts proved fruitless.
Brock’s health was declining rapidly, and the prospect of losing him was devastating.
With a heavy heart, I entered Brock’s room after these few weeks.
I observed Brock lying on his bed, his frailty and vulnerability evident in his weakened state.
Me: Brock… how are you feeling?
Brock: Well… I’m incredibly weak at the moment. I just need some rest.
Me: I understand. Please know that Rythmeus and I are still actively searching for a cure for you.
Just hold on a little longer.
Brock: Liran, can I ask you something?
Me: Of course… what is it?
Brock: You see… there’s a place I desire to visit, and I believe it’s not far from here.
Me: Really?... Tell me more about it.
Brock: It’s situated within the forest—a small shed. I have fond memories of being there with my friends, engaging in silly and childlike activities.
Me: Why do you feel compelled to go there?
Brock: It’s been a while since I last visited, and the mere thought of that place evokes a mix of pleasant and peculiar emotions within me.
Me: Are you certain about going there? Can you still walk? Do you truly want us to make the journey?
Brock: Hehe, let’s just go for it. I believe it will be worthwhile.
Me: Alright.
With great care, I helped Brock out of his bed, supporting his weakened body, and we began to make our way towards the door.
Me: It seems I’ll be carrying you for a while, but don’t worry. I’ve been working out, so I can handle it.
Brock: Hehe, carry on then…
We made our way out of the room, traversing the corridors of the palace until we reached the exit door.
After a few minutes of walking, carrying Brock toward the forest he had spoken of, we finally arrived at our destination.
Me: Here we are… the forest.
Brock: That’s wonderful… somewhere within this forest, there should be a shed. It’s not too far away.
Me: Alright…
We spent a few minutes exploring the forest, our eyes scanning the surroundings until we caught sight of a small shed located a few meters away.
Me: I believe we have found it.
Brock: Yes, that’s the shed. Now, go ahead.
With careful consideration, I gently placed Brock down on the ground before we made our way towards the shed.
Me: I believe you still have enough strength to stand.
After gently placing Brock on the ground, he mustered the energy to rise to his feet and move around for a brief moment.
Brock: You’re right… I do have some strength left in me.
Together, we approached the door of the shed. I opened it, revealing the interior.
Inside, the shed appeared weathered and aged, with scattered dust and signs of decay.
However, despite its worn appearance, it seemed to be constructed from sturdy materials, defying its dilapidated exterior.
Me: Here we are… go ahead.
Brock then stepped into the shed, clutching the blanket that he had been holding onto during our journey.
He carefully spread the blanket on the floor before gently laying down upon it.
Brock: …
Me: How are you feeling now?
Brock: I feel a sense of peace, somewhat reminiscent of the times I spent here with my friends, engaging in all sorts of silly activities.
Me: I see… could you tell me more about these friends of yours?
Brock: Well, to put it briefly, my friends are scattered across different locations. Some attend different schools, reside in various cities or even countries.
Me: Do you have a friend here, in this city, with you?
Brock: Yes, I do. In fact, that friend is right here with me, talking to me, and providing comfort as I lay down.
That friend… is you.
Upon hearing those words, I couldn’t help but smile. Brock’s words were incredibly kind, beautiful, and heartwarming to hear.
Me: Thank you for saying that. I’m grateful that our paths crossed as well.
You are an intelligent and remarkable individual, Brock. Being in your presence has always brought me a sense of peace.
You truly are a special person.
BROCK’S POV:
I was deeply moved by liran’s words. Liran had become one of the most special individuals I had ever encountered, alongside Rythmeus. Both of them were truly amazing, and I couldn’t help but feel a surge of emotion. Though I felt on the verge of tears, an unusual sense of peace enveloped me instead, in a positive and comforting way.
I turned my gaze toward Liran, feeling a sense of trust and gratitude.
Me: Liran, could you do something for me?
Liran: Of course, what is it? Do you need water, food, or anything else?
Me: Could you find me a branch, please? I would like to play with it. I’m feeling rather bored.
Liran: I understand. I will go and find a branch for you.
Liran left the shed, venturing through the forest to find a suitable branch for me to play with. As I lay on the blanket, an overwhelming sense of peace began to wash over me. Gradually, I felt a growing fatigue, and as I looked upward, I noticed an inexplicable presence—a clear light that captured my attention.
Unable to comprehend its origin or purpose, I sensed an inexplicable pull, as if the light beckoned me to follow it. The weariness intensified, and without resistance, I allowed myself to succumb to it.
LIRAN’S POV:
After a few minutes of searching, I successfully located a suitable branch. Satisfied with my find, I made my way back to the shed.
Upon reaching the shed, I swung open the door, ready to bring the branch to Brock. However, as I entered, my heart sank at the sight before me.
Brock lay on his blanket, his eyes closed, completely still. It was clear that he could no longer move or speak.
A feeling of heaviness washed over me as I realized that Brock had reached a critical point in his condition. I had heard that before passing away, some individuals experience visions or enter a dreamlike state that they inhabit for a period of time. It seemed that Brock had entered such a state, and it pained me to witness him in this vulnerable state.
Brock was not there anymore.
Brock has died.
.
.
.