♫ ‘There’s not an ocean, a mountain
or a world I haven’t seen
like a shadow I’ve been living in my own reality.’ ♫
The catacombs of Anthesteria house the resting places of those that have gone before. Some, adorned with brightly with flowers and memories. Others are more barren, the roses long since wilted away.
El Mariachi Muerte stands before the resting place of Fernicus Lamplight. His guitar plays a sombre melody, notes rising and allowing a petal from the single remaining rose to gently cascade onto the stone floor.
“They say a song is remembered as long as it is sung.”
“Once a song stops being played, it begins to fade from memory. The notes stop flowing and the memory of that song dwindles. Left to the sands of eternity, a forgotten song will be lost forever.”
The notes from his guitar pull a second petal from the flower.
“We keep our songs alive through the memories of those left to sing them.”
“But what happens when there is nobody left to hum its tune? The song, once familiar, becomes a stranger. Softly fading into the obscurity of eternity.”
A musical break. Notes flow freely, stirring petals from the catacomb’s floor to create a visual representation of a fire. The flames burn, eventually fading as the petals fall back to the floor.
“Faced with your own mortality, you made a choice, Ferryman. Rather than letting your song reach its natural conclusion, you chose to cheat death. You stopped your own song, and have been sitting in the uncomfortable silence of forgotten memories ever since.”
“An entire life, left faded to nothingness like the flames you caused that day. Unlike Fernicus, you had nobody left to sing your song.”
♫ ‘I’ve been on the run
hiding from the real world
always locked away
hoping everything will change
if I only could find back home,
if I only could find you.’ ♫
El Mariachi walks until he comes across an altar without flowers. No adornment, a name plate long forgotten and unreadable.
“You stopped playing your song that day, mi amigo. You caused your identity to be forgotten. Now, your only music has become the eternal rhythmic lapping of your oars upon the waters of eternity.”
“A forgotten existence, never reaching any destination you seek. I saw it in your eyes, the fire that burns. Desperate to hold onto any semblance of identity you have left.”
“You found that in the OSW World Championship. But when I take that from you, who will be left to sing your song?”
“Not Igor, for the master never sings of the slave. Not Arcadia, for you turned your back on them eons ago.”
“An eternity of silence is a lonely song, mi amigo.”
♫ ‘I’m forever lost.
Far from home – I’ve always been a stranger
Eternal escape – it has to end’ ♫
“The end isn’t where we meet, mi amigo. For you there is no end, no beginning. Just an eternity of silent servitude.”
El Mariachi Muerte stops playing, his music fading into silence.
“You have no time for music, Ferrman. You have souls to ferry.”