It's a Wonderful Life (Ms. Fortune, Tim)

Hargeon town was bustling for the holiday season. One reason being the winter season makes it more active around the seas, so the fishermen rarely head out unless they wanted to encounter winter monsters out in the open sea. But the real reason was Hargeon becomes a landing capital for tourists during the peak of midwinter. Being close to Magnolia definitely has its perks. As an effect, it hasn’t even the new year yet and the town and its people had already taken means to decorate itself for the last stretch of the season. Snow clouds were clumped together up above shining deep shades of grey and white, as if in agreement to the festival and is well prepared for a proper snowfall. Meanwhile, the people were up and about; the shops around the docks extended their tables further to accommodate new arrivals while others set up tents closer to the ports where they sell souvenirs and other trinkets, both mundane and magical. It was still midday and everyone was already celebrating, or was too busy hauling themselves to a hotel room so they too could join in.

The park, especially, despite it being half destroyed because of an incident months ago during the Hallows’ eve, was heavily decorated for the season. The trees were lined with light lacrima that would soon make it glow a warm orange once the sun sets, the houses around the park were also in cahoots with the festivities, some of them even putting out decorations provided by the mayor. From stalls on the outside of the park proper to the people enjoying themselves walking around the grounds; it was already lively enough.

But it had gotten distinctly livelier when a pack of built men and women came around and noisily prepared a stage on the further side of the park.

“What do you think they’re building…oh! It’s a stage!”

“Is there a band playing?”

“They’re doing a play, I think.” Tim was sitting by a park bench when he overheard the couple wonder to themselves. “They’re called The Rabian’s Scheherazade troupe.”

The two men turned to him. “You know about them?!”

“I’ve never seen them perform, but sounds like they’ve been at this for a damn long while now.” Tim waved two pamphlets as he read from a third one, much to the disappointment from one of them. “What?”

“It’s nothing.” One of them shrugs.

“He’s gotten into these sorts of stuff lately,” The second smiled at him. “He probably thought you might be a theatre buff.”

Tim huffed out a laugh. “Other than a bunch of books I’ve read as a kid, I’m in the dark about this sort of stuff too.”

“What is the play going to be about?”

“Let’s see here…” He flipped a page off the paper, reading it aloud. “The Dragon King Festival: a banquet of Dragons, humans and Demons…huh. It seems to be a recreation of an old event.”

“It must be talking about the old war of the dragons.” The first supplied.

“I don’t think so,” He narrowed his eyes at the pamphlet. “It says here it’s recreating the one that happened in the capital over a hundred years ago. It’s a reminder to the people of Ishgar how close history can always repeat itself should selfishness overcome an already corruptible soul. Right.”

“Oh? That sounds a bit scandalous…”

“Did the mayor approve of this?”

“I think so…”

“Well, regardless. If you two need tickets, they set up down by the booths. Between the shooting one and the whack a mole.”

“Like the one they had in the Hollows’ eve festival?”

“The very same.” He nodded.

The two bid him farewell leaving Tim alone again.

He heard the chime of the church’s belltower and counted along with it. “I wonder if she’ll actually show up…”

The thought of him being stood up, for once, made him relax. In Tim’s life, his dating history was completely barren. He distinctly remembered having some crushes back in his old life, but considering what happened to him way back when, it was a good thing he never pursued it. Later in the neutral grounds he met someone he liked, but there was a little fact of him just having lost his family and him having fits of turning into a monster at night; romance was the least of his concerns. That mindset never truly left the young man, and it wasn’t until he finally became a Silver Wolf wizard had he fully saw his curse for what it truly was. And since then, he thought of the life he missed. He was far too old to act like some kid, of course, but there were some pleasures in his life he made a passing thought but never truly pursued.

“Then again, she doesn’t seem like the type to flake out.” He leaned back over the bench’s metal rest. “Not that I have anything else to go on other than our short meet ups when we do jobs…”

Tim didn’t really think munch into his invitation until he actually remembered it word for word:

“Hey, Nita? I know we haven’t really kept in touch since we went to the moon, or close to it. But…Uh…anyways, I meant to call you for the town’s Hallows’ eve festival but I made plans. How about for the midwinter? There’ll be another festival down by the park. Want to hang around by then?
…
Oh, you don’t have to call back if you’re busy though. Bet it’ll be a busy season for everyone—well, almost everyone.”

Tim wanted to make it up to her. Their little impromptu job with Samsa wouldn't have gone half as smoothly as it would have if she wasn't there, and he wanted to be able to thank her properly. He failed to convey both of his intentions in that message all the while managed to sound even worse than a child half his age asking someone a night out. He’d been around cocktail parties when he was child where he was infinitely more composed, for crying out loud! He either lost his touch somewhere down the line, or he was just that nervous.

Tim sighed hard just remembering that horrible attempt at asking someone out. “I’m not ask slick as I make myself out to be, huh…”

The man almost jumped from his seat when he heard Nita’s voice crawl against his ear. It took Tim every fiber of his being not to; instead, he sat up and made himself sound as composed as humanly possible.

“Dastardly…because you haven’t called me that more than once?” But the childlike grin he had was a dead giveaway how he actually felt knowing she actually came.

He turned to take a good look at Nita when he froze. She was completely dressed up from head to toe in a very elegant outfit. Tim have only seen people wear this when he was back in the Ivory Towers of his old life back in the Neutral Grounds. Tim always disliked how these outfits looked—how he always felt the people wearing them to be vain—but looking at Nita carry herself while she was wearing such an extravagant dress made him realize it was never the dresses he had problems with, wasn’t it? The problem was the people wearing them. Because looking at Nita right now? Tim’s heart would have skipped a beat if he could. There was not a single trance of false pride in her as she smiled softly at him.

“Hey…you.” Tim absentmindedly parroted back; his eyes were still glued to hers as he stood up to face her.

For once in his life, Tim actually felt underdressed compared to her.

Having lived a life of luxury as a child, Tim never truly felt any difference on how people dressed. Even after living off the work houses and later in the docks of Hargeon he was numb to the idea of luxury in the way people dress. Other than uniforms and expected dress codes in certain events, he never really learned the intricacies of fashion. But looking at Nita right now, his shabby clothing felt slightly embarrassing. Tim was wearing the same outfit he had when he first set out to join Silver Wolf, the very same ensemble he wore when he worked for the docks: it was a dirty white dress shirt paired with a faded set of thick jeans, along them were a pair of rugged steel-toed shoes and an equally faded jacket bearing the ‘Rollins and Schwartz’ company logo. Tim must have looked like a menial, something he didn’t mind until now.

“I…well, I should’ve dressed up more.” He finally said after a moment, but also added: “You look stunning, Nita.”

Other than the excuses Tim admitted to himself earlier on why he invited Nita out, there was one other reason. After their misadventure in space, Nita became the only person—save for the deities directly involved—who knew about the worst of Tim’s life. He knew it might not be the most dramatic nor the worst secrets a person carried, but these secrets were the worst his life could offer. That meant something to him.

“I don’t know if this is your first time being around, but welcome to Hargeon town.” Tim let out a breath, a nervous one, as he gestured around the park. “Before working for Silver Wolf, this town was my world. It’s infinitely smaller compared to how far we’ve been thrown across recently, definitely further from the war the rest of Ishgar plunged itself into. But it’s home.”

“I invited you here ‘cause you’ve seen me at my worst back there, Nita.” He huffed out a laugh. “And I didn’t want your last memory of me being that thing.”

The festive sounds of the park were amplified while the stage’s construction noises were blaring when Tim heard her question. He almost stumbled over when Nita suddenly reached for his hand and, when she finally looked at him, he knew his attempt at keeping it a secret had failed miserably.

“The cat’s out of the bag now, then…” Tim tried to keep himself steady. “So much for my talent, eh? And here I thought I got the hang of this whole magic thing…in the end, I couldn’t even fool you for even a moment more.”

He heard a horse’s neigh from the distance and hoped Nita hadn’t heard it too. But knowing her she might have, or worse, knew about what that meant. Keeping his hand over Nita’s, he led her down back by the bench.

“I really wanted to fool you for a moment more, Nita.” He pursed his lips, trying to let go of her hand. “And maybe I’ll be able to do more in the end than just make people around me miserable.”

He wanted to tell another joke, one that felt a lot closer their usual banter, but looking at her so afraid for him? He couldn’t do it. Instead, he clasped his other hand over the one Nita had holding his. He met her gaze with a tired one. Somehow, her realizing it made things easier. He couldn’t pretend being as much now; it was good, because keeping his slightly corporeal form was the toughest attempt at magic he had done in his short stint at being a wizard. But it was worth it, if it meant he could do it: he could live for a few minutes without being himself.

“All my life, I was nothing but the sum of the cards I was dealt.” He laughed. “It’s a stupid though, I know. We’re all the sum of our parts. But I never got to understand the cards I have before they all go toppling down. Heh. I think Arle might have clued you in already, or did I accidentally do that back then? Regardless, I was born living a life in an ivory tower and was fed with a silver spoon. Truthfully though, it was my family’s fortune and, as empty that life was, it was the moment of my life where I still had my parents.”

“That life died along with the birth of my connection with the family heirloom: my little curse. Thinking about it now, I could have understood this curse’s true nature back then—I don’t know; hindsight is always perfect, but never in the moment you want it to be.”

“I think I was eight? When the Neutral Grounds’ slums became my new ivory tower.” Tim smiled as he sat. “The other kids with me there had it worse; most of them actually were already there all their lives. But to the rest we were all the same: urchins. I hopped from place to place, then later from workhouse to workhouse until I got fed up with the city. One thing led to another and I escaped, and that’s how I ended up here.”

“You know why I left?” Tim looked down, chuckling to himself. “I don’t know how many people have seen that thing, but they reacted the same. I never blamed them, but it still hurt, especially the ones who shot at me.”

“But then I actually found someone here who looked at me differently.” He smiled fondly at the memory of his first meeting with Dr. Schwartz. “He probably saw an unusual specimen for one of his experiments, but that led me to suppressing the curse; keeping it tame to the point where it only pops-up when I don’t suppress it hard enough.”

“A lot happened between then and when I first headed out to join Silver Wolf. Nothing interesting, mind. It was a lot of work and little to no extra magical events.” He then sighed. “But my point being…well, the fact that nothing happened. I just wanted you to see the me that got to live a life here. I think I wanted to prove that I made something of myself that was not from deity ancestor I too proud to want, nor some family tied riches I was too young to need.”

“I guess I don’t want to leave this world as Timόtheos the 42nd,” He looked at Nita again. “But just…Tim. I was Tim Watt here, for a while, before everyone found out. But even after, they still liked me.”

Tim knew anyone would’ve been good enough to be the witness. But something in him felt compelled to have Nita be the one to see it. Nita was one of the few people Tim had the pleasure of being friends with after becoming a wizard. They had a rocky start, being pushed into working together in a murder investigation, and in the capital of all places too. There was working for a job he thought would only entail capturing and or eliminating wizards, and then there was being forced to work with someone who was clearly more experienced than him—not to mention more highly capable than he ever could. And Tim stood by that fact till the end, especially now that he couldn’t very well prove it otherwise.

“Well, let’s just get it out there then.” He gave a defeated sigh. “I’m nothing but a ghost now, Nita. Most of me—my soul, or whatever represented as my individuality—was pulled by a Valkyrie; they’re Icebergian warrior maidens. Apparently, they do the bidding of an Icebergian god and also take warriors who died in battle who they deem worthy into…I don’t know where, but I guess what passes for the afterlife for them, I guess? That was about a month ago now.”

“Remember that story about how I had defeated a corporeal form of a deity?” He smiled sardonically at the memory. “Well, he had children. The three basically made a magical barricade of sorts around the town during Hollows’ Eve while the fourth was the one who actually stepped in and killed me. We fought here in the park.”

He gestured at the broken parts of the place, now having construction warning signs to keep anyone from having an accident. The memory then flashed like a bolt and Tim managed to muster enough of himself not to break down, but he flinched. “After they killed me, well, I’ll just ask you not to look up in the LacNet what they did. It’s…probably out there, but I wouldn’t want you to see me like that. I…barely looked human.”

Tim paused, before leaning against the bench. “I think that was it?” He laughed. “The same Valkyrie who escorted the rest of me will be coming around back soon. After that? Off to the afterlife I go…”

His hand visibly twitched, but he tried his best to hide it.

“Sorry I dragged you out here for something slightly less jolly, Nita.” He confessed, closing his eyes. “I wanted us to watch that play once the stage was constructed and everything.” He pulled out a couple of pamphlets, and two small pieces of decorated paper. “I even brought tickets.”

He smiled at her.

Nita was flush, he could tell as much. While a small part of Tim felt happy his death meant so much to her, it was drowned by his regret by being the one to tell her. Her hands were tightly clasped around his, despite his attempts at letting her go. Tim used what little willpower he had to keep himself collected. Since their meeting, his body was slowly slipping into the other side. Even as Nita was sobbing from trying to take the news in, his legs were slowly disappearing. He had seen his fair share of the supernatural in his life, but being one was a new experience altogether. Not that he had the time to test its limits now, he was bust trying to console Nita.

Nita tried to rationalize things. Had she been with him during that night, he might have lived. Part of him wanted to believe that. Nita was hardly a weak wizard. This had been proven time and time again when they worked together. But Tim knew what exactly would have happened if he had the option to call for her: he wouldn’t have dared to do it.

“I had the opportunity to call my partner in the guild, you know? Ah! Don’t get jealous, she’s a wolf.” He confessed, but managed to slide a joke in. “One of the ethereal wolves, to be exact. I don’t know how we did it, but she was bonded well enough with me from what little time we spent knowing each other that I could just call her whenever. But that night, I didn’t. It wasn’t about whether she was strong enough or not to fend that thing off. There was a fraction of a chance of her getting hurt back then and I didn’t want that. So, in the end, I was alone against it.”

“I wouldn’t want you to get hurt too,” He got closer to Nita. “If I had the means to summon you, I don’t think I would have used it.”

But then the Nita’s focus slid into the reason why she was the one he wanted meet the most. Out of all the people he knew. Why was she the one.

Tim froze.

Leave it to Nita to ask the most loaded of questions without skipping a beat. He definitely wasn’t able to answer her questions as easily, as well. How the heck could he? It was practically a confession; one he didn’t want to outright blurt out knowing it was being said by a dead man! He never gotten himself the luxury to pursue romance when he was alive, what gave him the right to do so when he’s quite literally half the man he was now? He only had a sliver of a relationship with his parents before his old life toppled down in a hail of bullets and the rotted face of his long dead mother burning though his memory, afterwards he barely had a relationship with anyone else.

Edna and Dr. Schwartz were the closest people he could call his second parents. But he was already too old when he met them, he could only call them his role-models in the end. His crew in the docks? They were the tightest when it came to any of his friendships—a motely fellowship of grizzly half-drunken men and women twice as gruff as the former—some of which ended up into a moonlit tryst or two, but never truly lasted. Tim treated them like they were made of glass, all of them. Which, looking back now, was not inaccurate. He never really placed an explanation how he saw them different; how he saw himself as different. Now, he could only remember the two people he knew gotten killed the fray on the night he died. The magic everyone has were fundamentally tamer than the magic wizards and their ilk deal with on a day-to-day basis. Wizard and their matters were a world away to the everyday problems of civilians and, mixing the two worlds together? It always led to death.

Tim realized that, and it took him deaths—his death and of two innocents—to value that distinction.

That also made him realize how he valued his time with Nita. She was horribly more competent, infinitely stronger, and not to mention more attuned to her magic than he could ever be; and Tim being himself around her? All they ended up arguing about was their views on the world and its connections to the divine at large. Around her? He was not the forty-second descendant of whatever, he was only Tim-Tim, the dastard flirt (which he still denied, but never gotten to truly despise; he had been called worse).

Being so comfortable around someone did not go unnoticed by him. He never really noticed it until he had the time to think about it. Where his comments during his jobs often involved him being horribly dry, when he was with Nita he often made genuine attempts at making jokes. Where he would often disregard his own safety when dealing with threats, when he was with a job with her all of a sudden, his safety was not his own. It wasn’t a matter of teamwork as well, too. Her reprimands about his questionable strategy that never takes his own injuries into account was a far cry from his experiences with others, who often left him with ‘wish I was as monstrously sturdy as you’ or the like.

It was ironic how being around the monstrously strong made him feel the most human.

The question then remained: was this all there was to it? Was Nita only a means to make him feel human? Or his comfort around her was more than that?

But his thoughts were shaken off by her last request: she wanted to know who killed him. And something in him knew her face didn’t feel like she was going to leave it be. With her still crying face laid a face of someone who was out for blood.

“‘Revenge is a fool’s game’.” Tim muttered. “I read that once. I think it’s a load of bull, but I would rather believe a truth in those words than know you got hurt on my account, Nita.”

“I guess time’s running out, Nita.” He let one hand go, letting it hold Nita’s damp cheeks and wipe one newly fallen tear while his other hand clasped her small fingers. Tim made one last look at himself, finally noticing his body was already half gone. He was only corporeal from his torso upwards. He made one final dry laugh, a laugh which slowly morphed into a sniffle, and finally into a sob.

“Oh yeah, I remember my mother saying something about what to do when you see someone you care about getting hurt. She told me—” Tim leaned slightly down and placed his lips over Nita’s forehead. He let his disappearing body lay one last warm memory over her, before letting himself stare at her one last time. “…I could kiss it to make it better.”

Tim waited, looking at Nita while holding her close, until his body finally disappeared leaving the wizard to her lonesome. From the distance, the sound of a horse’s hooves echoed.