Three Farewells (Patreon)

TLS is a generally optimistic game, letting the player take society closer to a utopian state, but through I've been up-front about the overall positivity, I've always tried to temper that at least a little. This story is about how even a happy ending includes sorrow.

-

It was the third performance of the play Leaves in Autumn, a new adaptation of a classic that had not received particularly good reviews and was unlikely to be performed many more times. The theater was half-filled, and not all of its inhabitants were paying full attention to the play itself, for all that the actors were still giving their best.

Unbeknownst to them, a goddess sat in the audience, wreathed in illusion.

Yarra watched the actors as they went through the familiar motions, even though she was able to anticipate every word. Even the alterations, no matter how ostensibly shocking, had become increasingly familiar over the centuries, and the original version had been predictable enough.

Leaves in Autumn was a dramatic play that had been originally written in Yhilin as society fully came to grips with the integration of succubi. Far from the first, just the first that lasted: instead of farce or morality play, it treated the issue as a serious subject. Over the years it had changed, but the story always featured succubus and non-succubus lovers who were destined partners, then the succubus aged first and passed away, leaving their partner with a tragic absence they carried for the rest of their lives.

The original had been a massive hit, leading to endless reinterpretations, deconstructions, reconstructions, and joke variations. Yarra herself had been quite pleased by the fully uncensored version that didn't gloss over the sexual aspect of the relationship, especially since it had featured some truly talented performers.

At times the play became over-saturated in society and it would fade for a time, yet in the long term it proved enduring. When succubus lifespans increased due to the harem's efforts, the story didn't become obsolete because human health had improved so much as well - the ages and dates were changed and the emotions remained the same, so the play found new generations who loved and performed it.

Over time, however, most of the harem became somewhat bored with Leaves in Autumn simply because it had become so familiar. Not only had they seen it wax and wane in popularity multiple times, they had attended the original as a group. Riala was of the opinion that the Ghenalese version from a few centuries ago had never been equaled, while Iris was only interested if there was a new variation on the theme, like a surprisingly thoughtful retelling from Eustrin that had been about a dwarf and an elf.

This version was not particularly clever, and the actors a largely mixed bag, so Yarra was the only one watching. She was usually the only one who returned for new versions of the play, viewing it so often that even Nalili teased her about being a sentiment slut.

None of the failings of this version mattered to Yarra. She simply settled into her seat and watched as the curtains rose.

~

The first time Yarra met Ina, it was between two miserable shacks in Feroholm, attempting to sell her body to support her family. That moment had led to hiring her for the base and a warm friendship that had evolved over the years as both of them came to understand the other better. Fortunately, despite Yarra's original forbearance, she had managed to get in bed with the cute woman at least a few times in the following years.

The last time Yarra met Ina, she was an old woman lying in bed breathing ragged breaths.

"Please, let us help you," Yarra begged. It wasn't for the first time, and she received the same answer as Ina shook her head slowly.

Though Ina had lived a long and healthy life, she had refused the magical infusions that would have extended that lifespan. When she had been young and happy, surrounded by children and then grandchildren, it had been easy for Yarra to accept her choice. But now Ina's hand was wrinkled and terrifyingly thin and Yarra's impulse to clutch it warred with her fear that it would break.

"I lived a good life," Ina told her, not for the first time. "I got to be a grandmother to so many... no, a great-grandmother now."

"You would still be their grandmother if you were young," Yarra protested.

In response Ina only smiled and shook her head again. All her movements were slow these days, and suddenly Yarra felt guilty, forcing this old woman to spend her breaths on an old argument when she had family coming to join her.

"What can I do for you?" Yarra finally asked.

"You've already done more than enough." Ina's worn lips spread so broadly they threatened to crack. "You know you changed my life. I can't thank you enough, Yarra. But the greatest thing you gave me was my family..."

"I understand." Yarra leaned forward to kiss the old woman on the forehead, one last time, and then melted back through the wall.

The others came not long after: Ina's smiling children, leading sniffling grandchildren, one carrying a baby who stared at everything with wonder and confusion. From her divine position, in possession of so much power, Yarra felt as though she could only stare in the same way. She saw that Ina was surrounded by love and tenderness, having carried a full life to the end, and it only made her heart ache more.

Before the end, Ina shared many warm hours with her family, but Yarra didn't intrude again. And then, late in the night, Ina breathed her last and Yarra only watched as her soul disappeared.

~

It was completely different when it was Merith's time. Yarra no longer argued or begged with those who declined immortality, even though it had been a great joy for her. Instead she flew the old Unsuccubus over the Chalice States, just as she had requested.

Yarra had held out the hope that one of the Unsuccubi would choose to live forever, even if she didn't join the harem. If not the base guard that had served them for so long, then one of the others who had shared an experience with Simon, or just someone who feared death. Instead she had been forced to let them go one at a time as their long lives didn't last forever.

Merith had accepted Yarra's open offer: not to extend her life, but to end it. Even though Yarra had grown enough to see the heavy beauty of final hours surrounded by family, she hated how many mortals she saw go out choking or confused. As her eyesight grew dim, Merith had asked for a gentler conclusion.

They flew over the gentle hills of the Chalice States, richer and more verdant than they had ever been, filled with small communities of people from across the world. Yarra knew Merith well enough to be certain that she wasn't from this part of the country, so she was puzzled about this last request.

Between villages, Yarra finally understood when she saw the small fortress. Not a daunting instrument of war, as had once been so common, but a guard outpost to secure the region. What mattered, in this case, was who lived within it.

The women of the fortress were officially called the Unsuccubus Guard, but the cracks across their faces were only stone masks. Underneath they were unblemished, and more importantly, their souls had never been scoured by the horrible arts that had created the true Unsuccubi. Instead they wielded the same reserve in defense of their sisters, and indeed the entire realm. It was not a popular order, but the name was no longer a reminder of fear and torment.

As they watched, the Unsuccubus Guard flew from the fortress to intercept a small group of travelers being threatened by local monsters. They easily dispatched the creatures, though their sudden arrival made one of the children cry. Yarra saw one of the Guard bend down and remove her mask, calming the child, before letting her curiously run her hands over the cracked surface.

"Did you help create the Unsuccubus Guard?" Yarra asked softly.

"No, not at all," Merith told her with a wry smile. "I was skeptical, remember? It's funny how, after so many years, I keep coming back to them. I'm glad this is the legacy that we're leaving behind."

Merith didn't suffer from pain or disease as did so many elderly, but her soul felt so wan and stretched thin that Yarra winced every time she felt it. The scars that had once covered her soul seemed to be opening up again, but instead of bleeding, her existence was drying out.

"I feel so lucky that I got to live at the same time all of you did," Merith said. "But I'm glad the world isn't like that anymore. This is better."

"And yet you want to leave?" Yarra knew her voice was plaintive, but she couldn't stop, even now.

"Back then... when the pain was so great that I wanted to die, I forced myself to continue so that it wouldn't happen to anyone else. But now... now I don't think it will. None of you need a guard anymore, and I've guarded the world long enough."

"Then..."

"I'm old and tired," Merith told her with another smile. "I just want to feel it all again. One last moment."

"Of course." Yarra wanted to say more, but words failed her. The most she could do was honor the woman's wishes.

So Yarra took the Unsuccubus in her arms and kissed her, the kiss of a true succubus that drank in the soul itself. In that moment, she drenched the aching old soul with a pleasure so pure that it saturated all the scar tissue. All of the aches and pains melted away into sensations.

Merith sighed in ecstasy as, for a moment, she was truly whole, and then she was gone.

~

As the years passed, Yarra needed to say goodbye to fewer old friends. It wasn't that she fully withdrew from the world, but now when she followed mortals she understood that their lives were on different paths. She spared more tears for lives cut short or lived poorly than for those who filled their time on the mortal coil and left in satisfaction.

But eventually there came a day that no number of years could have protected Yarra from as she lay in bed with an aged Fuani.

The Zirantian's life had been extended further than anyone had expected, since her body had been thoroughly saturated with magic by regularly interacting with the harem. Even as they became divine and there was no real need for a maid, Fuani had continued making herself useful, so she was always a welcome presence. Just another old friend, not at all a servant... but she had never wanted immortality, so the day had finally arrived.

Fuani's body felt so thin and frail as she rested on top of Yarra, and as Yarra stroked her ears she realized just how thin the velvety fur had become. More than any of the others, Fuani had been spared the ravages of old age, but Yarra realized that it was her own fantasy that she was still seeing the same young woman who had joined them in Zirantia.

"Are you sure you don't want to go somewhere else?" Yarra asked. "You spent all those years in Zirantia, you could visit again..."

"There's no need, Mistress," Fuani told her firmly. "I'm grateful for those years, but this was always more of a home to me."

"I still wonder what kind of life you might have lived if I hadn't-"

"Mistress Yarra." Fuani cast her a look of fond disapproval, and for just a moment Yarra felt like a brash young succubus again. "You're just trying to blame yourself. You have to let go."

"Are you sure there's nothing I can do for you?" Yarra asked. "No matter how tired you are, I could make your last moments pleasurable... I could... anything you want, I..."

"No, this is enough." Fuani settled against her and, as Yarra felt the aged woman's body relax, she finally allowed them to rest in silence.

~

The performance of Leaves in Autumn faltered with a mishap while changing sets, then ended with a truly schmaltzy soliloquy to the power of love that had some members of the audience rolling their eyes. A few had walked out or fallen asleep, and at the conclusion of the play, there was only scattered applause.

Hidden within the audience, a single goddess pressed her hands to her face as she struggled to contain her tears.

Worse than the ending was the aftermath, where the audience departed and the lights dimmed. Shrouded in her illusions, Yarra would go completely unnoticed until she sat alone. But that day, as her shoulders trembled, she realized that Simon was sitting beside her.

He didn't say anything, but he placed an arm around her shoulders. There was so much she wanted to say: she had always known she would need to say goodbye, but she had never imagined that she would be the one remaining behind. She wouldn't lose him, or all the people she had come to care so much about, but there could be no world without loss.

She understood that this was a better world than frozen immortality, but that didn't lessen the weight of what she carried with her. Yarra threw herself against Simon's chest and let the tears flow as the lights went out.