Out of the Abyss :: Sascha :: Epilogue
And so this story ends, so bittersweet,
The Reaperās Game forgotten. Sascha lives!
How strange that it could end this way for her!
Her tearful sacrifices rendered mootā
For she, the one she killed, her lover, too,
Were always dead to start withā¦ So it goes.
Our hero wakes in ruins overgrown,
Claimed by the forest, fifteen years untouched.
She does not recognize the faces here,
Not even the one face she calls her own.
Her hair now tangles like Medusaās snakes,
Her chin is grizzled darkā it feels so wrong.
She stands to find sheās taller than she thought,
By four inches? The ceiling seems so close!
What happened to her while she was asleep?
Why are the wrinkles in her face so deep?
The cops told her a story, strange but true.
She didnāt want to believeā but she knew.
Lost in the woods for years without a trace,
Presumed dead in a bloody massacre.
Theyād searched Rengoku Manor twenty times,
But only now had they found signs of life!
Fifteen years later, now they were alive.
Fifteen years lost to Saschaās memoryā¦
This fragment glimpse of hell now slips away.
What moral to this story can there be?
When in the end we forget anyway,
Should we still fight through pain and misery?
The void inside still nags at her today,
Spinning forgotten stories of despair.
But though she wishes it could go away,
she feels that emptiness still belongs there.
An absence of grief, memorial to none,
A eulogy for loved ones never knownā¦
But now, her life is here, the here and now.
She cannot lose more time to the unknown.
Her party needs a bard to cheer them on!
Her list'ners need her wise writing advice!
Her friends long for her lively, warm support!
(Maybe that cute redhead will call her back?)
Far more than these, however, she holds dear
Her motherā¦ her sweet motherā¦ she needs her.
It breaks her heart to see her motherās hair
Streaked grey and white from stress and age and fear.
But Sascha smiles and hugs her, knowing that
Sheāll never have to leave her side again.
((Be strong, my friends, let not despair subdue
The kind and caring heart inside of you.
Should our ways part forever past this game,
I hope life treats you well! Auf Wiederseh'nĀ š
āThis above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell, my blessing season this in thee!ā))
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