Min-Maxing My TRPG Build in Another World - Volume 2 - Chapter 10

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Finale

The final scene of a session. No matter the path the journey has taken, this is the final stop. Whether the night concludes with the PCs’ joyous victory or sorry defeat, the ending always comes.

TRPGs are unfinished scripts with no guaranteed payoff, and the ending is the ultimate example. The lack of a guaranteed “happily ever after” is one of the harsh realities of tabletop games.

Held in caring arms, the girl closed her eyes and expelled a deep, long breath. Something told her that she would not draw many more.

Still, she did not suffer. Even as her hands and feet began to dissolve away, she felt no pain—only peace. The boy who had held her as they fell from the heavens was so very warm, and she could feel the kindness in his pretty blue eyes.

“Excuse me...young sir?”

After being cut down, she finally managed to see him for what he was. He wasn’t her father at all—just a poor stranger wrapped up in this mess.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I’m very tired,” she said.

To begin with, the two looked nothing alike. Her father’s hair was much longer and a dimmer shade of gold, like the glow of a moonlit night. The boy was far younger, and even their voices were completely different.

Yet when he held her like this, it felt like she was back in her father’s arms. That made the girl happy.

“I...I’m sure you are. If you’re tired, you should rest.”

The boy sounded like he was holding back tears. In fact, she heard him sniffle soon after, so he didn’t just sound like it; he was surely fighting the urge to cry. The girl thought this was silly. There was no need for him to hold back, and even less need for him to cry. After all, she felt blessed.

“I think I might,” she said.

Truthfully, the girl wanted to thank him. During her outburst, an ending this tranquil had been unimaginable. What little reason she had commanded in that state had told her that her finale would be painful. This was much better than she could have ever hoped.

“But,” she said, “before that...”

The girl wanted to thank him, but didn’t. She had a feeling that the boy would become even sadder if she did. She would rather see his pretty eyes beam with joy than sink into sadness. Though she did not know why, this wish came from the bottom of her heart.

“Would you sing me a song?” she asked. “When I go to bed...I sleep wonderfully when somebody sings to me.”

In place of gratitude, she made a request. Nobility hardly ever slept with their parents, but the girl’s father had often brought her to bed to sing her lullabies.

“I’m no singer,” the boy said.

“I don’t mind,” she replied. “I’d just like you to... That’s all.”

The girl thought she was wishing for more than she was due. Here she was, already enjoying a serene end; who was she to ask for a song on top of that?

“O quiet night—o gentle night.”

And yet he sang. The girl had never heard these simple, unembellished lyrics before, but she had a feeling that the good common people of the land sang this song to put their children to bed.

“O moonlit night—let your caring arms of light hold us—let sleeping souls rest.”

The boy sang, and he went so far as to pat her head. His hand was smaller and harder than the one in her memory, but it filled her with contentment all the same.

The girl truly felt like she was falling asleep as she melted away. After her limbs faded to dust, the rest of her body began turning into ashen flecks, dancing through the air, never to return to earth. The empty bindings piled onto themselves, cursing the girl who had escaped their clutches.

“Good night,” she whispered happily.

At long last, she had found the gentle slumber that would hold her forevermore. As her head finally disappeared, a single stone rolled onto the boy’s lap. It was a gemstone colored with the same ice blue that the girl had adored so.

The last vestige of the changeling that had once been loved as Helga gleamed proudly in the moonlight, as if to say this is how it was meant to end.

[Tips] When a great being meets its end, powerful emotion can coalesce into a physical trace of their existence. These exceedingly rare crystals of sentiment will surely protect whoever wields it with the same passionate will that created it.

The tale that follows is not from the time line we know—but it might have been, had the dice fallen differently...