In the midst of the chaos in his mind, "Roland's" mindscape got submerged in the stream of time.
His ears hear not the shouts of the multitude, his fingers grip not on the cold ivory marbles.
He was sure this isn't reality, nor the present. Yet deep inside that empty shell he dwelled, not another word can be uttered to the person sitting before his eyes.
Mother and son.
Two people sitting in a rundown apartment, one can barely call a home.
Pages turned peacefully on a small ragged notebook, the woman's pen gently marking down this month's finance. Her eyes tirelessly skimmed across the rows and columns.
"[####], how long did the loansharks say we have before it's due?" she asked, her pen scratching on the old stained paper.
Strands of silver hair fall to the floor, as the boy's fingers tighten…
"Was it three days?" The mother closed her book and stretched her back, grabbing a piece of rag to clean her ink stained fingers.
Her son was sweating, beads dragging down on his skinny back.
Bringing the cloth closer to his face, she gently wipes away the sweat. As well as the tear marks ingrained on his cheek.
"...They said we only have until tomorrow evening." He whispers under his breath.
"They'll tear down the house if we can't pay in full".
The son's facade vanished, as he broke down in his mother's arms.
Catching her son, the mother pulled him to her embrace.
Both figures cling together as if time had come to a standstill.
In a calming voice, the mother sings a familiar lullaby.
"Twinkle, twinkle, little star..How I wonder what you are"
The boy's tears slowed with each note, then stopped. His breathing evened out.
They stayed so, for a very long time.
Soon evening came, the middle aged woman looked at her son who had long fallen asleep, shirt stained with tears.
Her callous hands lay the boy down on an old mattress, fingers sliding on the dry scalp of her boy. With cautious handling not to wake him up, she combed his hair.
A light smile lit on her cracked lips, before she quietly put on her coat and stepped out onto the cold dark streets.
Step by step, she traced a path to a particular district.
Neon displays lit her way, as she walked into a small corner on the road. So tiny it could barely fit two people.
Yet at the end of that alley way, the hustle and bustle bled out under the night sky
A small building, about five stories. Colorful lights penetrating from the small frame windows. resembling a lantern in the dark concrete forest.
"Roland" watched as his mother made her way into the casino.
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*...…*
I tried to scream.
I jumped and flailed my arms like a mad man, yet…
Nothing could reach her.
Mom. Why did you go out that day?
I can still remember her touch, the only thing left of her in me.
Mom never returned that night, but so did the loansharks. I was left alone, withering away in my own home. It was only until the neighbours couldn't bear the stench that I was rescued from that hell.
If she had returned, maybe I wouldn't have walked this path.
Though I do wonder.
On that night, did she feel what I'm feeling right now?
The screams of the multitude invade my head, they chant "my" name like a symphony.
The thundering wheel screeches opposite of me, red embers flung out from the heated gears and the red smoke encircles it. Cloaking the slots as if swallowing them whole.
[EXPULSION COMPLETED]
[NEURO-NETWORK RESTORED, ENDING PROTOCOL 93]
It was her doing isn't it, who else could it be?
But Miata, turning things up in smoke is Moriarty's move. You're no Sherlock
[WELCOME BACK. "Roland"]
Let this be a lesson, my Watson.
Under my breath, a familiar melody flows in peace.
"London bridge…is falling down"
In the end, it's all elementary. My dear.
"London bridge is falling down,...my fair lady".
And with that, the final ivory left my palm.
It cut through the air in a clean arc, trailing the faint smell of aged wine.
It struck the rim with a crack. The haze split open around it, smoke peeling back as it dove into the inner circle.
The wheel's inertia drags the ivory round and round, it bounces up and down the furious spiral, composing a melody of tic and tacs.
Until suddenly.
It found the edge of Orange.
The Spiral slows, its momentum fading. The whole den held their breath, not a single muffled sound could be heard.
The sturdy ivory now cracked from all the impact on the wheel, teetering on the edge like a drunk man on the verge of collapse.
Tension grows razor sharp, the air's thick enough for one to chew.
And finally.
It falls down the pure grey slot ,just a touch away from Orange.
A perfect C. A common result.
My eyes couldn't even process what just happened.
The ivory marble sits comfortably atop the grey slot, as if it was bound to land there from the start. The crowd has already dispersed, collecting their winnings and leaving the scene just as quickly as they came.
Every nerve in my body fired at once as adrenaline pumped into my veins.
I wanted to scream, to object, to flip this damned wheel over.
But just as I tried to move, my mind went blank.
The last thing I felt was something blunt to the back of my head.
~~~
The constant ringing in my cranium eventually ceased. Still I could see nothing but darkness.
Struggling to sit upright, I felt an agonizing stinging pain in my skull, like being punctured by hundreds of wasps at once. The back of my head throbbed, blood coagulated where it was struck.
I lay nose down on the floor. Both my hands and feet were bound meticulously, they must have gotten used to tying people up now and then.
The stone floor was moist. Filthy smells violated the air — the type that lingers in the nostril like flies to shites.
The more I tried standing up, the harder gravity pushed me down the cold algae stone.
Oh what a joke, I've practically been smoking cigarettes and drinking liquor for lunch and dinner. How can I ask for this dilapidated body to hold up?
I tried dislocating my wrist to open the knots, however as expected from knowledge learnt through scrolling youtube shorts. It doesn't work, and I can't feel my left hand now.
As I struggled to do the same with my ankles in the darkness, a modest blink of light entered the room. Familiar footsteps strolled slowly towards me as if the ground was something worth savoring.
The moment they got close enough, my vision returned as the ragged blindfold lifted off my head.
Using all the strength I had, I forced my neck up, I locked eyes with the intruder who brought light.
Miata was standing still, just a few steps away from me. She lit an ember on her index, before imbuing it to the lantern on the floor.
"How does it feel to lose everything in a flick of a thumb?"
She offers a cup of water, pushing it to my face with the sole of her shoe.
"How would I know if I'm a winner?" I plunge my mouth in the cup.
"Hah, winner? You've just lost a fortune worth multiple lifetimes my dear. I don't think you're thinking straight after that blow to your head." She laughs as if talking to a delusional man.
In an instant, I spit out the water mixed in saliva to her face. It was a desperate attempt to gain something from this exchange.
And oh boy did I catch a big one.
Miata, who was supposed to be covered in spit- water, now has tiny droplets circling her.
The droplets hung suspended around her, perfectly still, not a single one touching the crimson overcoat. Before turning into vapor as if burnt by an invisible flame.
Before I could say another word, Miata kicked the glass cup to my face, shattering it into pieces. A few fragments flew in my mouth, piercing the inside.
She tilted her head, almost seeming amused."You got more guts than senses, rat."
I chewed on the glass pieces stuck to my gum, before spitting out a handful of them, along with clumps of blood.
"It was you, wasn't it?" I fought back the pain of hundreds of fragments impaling my tongue.
"Ivory dipped in wine — once it cracks, the liquid seeps in on its own. A perfect little conduit for you to fiddle with"
Miata's expression changed for a moment before reversing to its indifferent standard.
"Aren't you a clever little mouse? But why does that concern you?" The woman leaned in close, like a child whose eyes were caught by a weird toy.
"After all, there were no rules against using magic. We never state that a player shouldn't rely on their magical capabilities to win now did we?"
"All I did was simple, I lent you a chance to change your life forever. Did I ever promise not to intervene?" She dampens the lantern's light, returning bits of darkness to the cramped room.
My eyes had barely adjusted to the light before she took it away. I could barely see Miata's figure. But that itself, further strengthened my suspicion.
I took a deep breath, and began slithering my way to her, trying to take a better look.
As expected, she wasn't just a no name mob afterall.
"--Hey Miata." Each word cost me. "Your father owns this place. Right?" I tried to form that sentence with the best jerky expression possible.
The woman who had already turned to leave, stopped.
"Mr. Baal Heiss, lord of crimes and collector of cries. The sparkling shadow of the perfect Magian kingdom''
I let out an echoing laugh, loud enough for the puddle of blood to ripple from the soundwave it carried.
"Yet such an infamous man, a cruel and unforgiving person, fell for a nun. The stories told that they had together an offspring, a mixture of pure and tainted love. An intimate dance of water and fire led to the creation of such a creature"
Before I knew it, Miata had already returned next to me. Her indifferent visage now can hide not the ripple in her eyes.
"The nun bearing the creature, later banished by the church for her sinful acts. Died birthing it under storm midsummer, they said her corpse was never buried but left to be ravaged by beasts "
I looked straight in her eyes, vapor surrounded her like clouds atop a mountain.
"The creature was never seen again, as for where and how. Nobody knows, However only one thing was certain. Wherever that creature goes, it will blur out the very light of the sun"
I gave a gentle smile.
"Isn't that right. Lady of the Haze?"
That was when a storm cascaded upon me.