❖ THE FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF ❖ (A-rank Exam)

Most likely common knowledge, the five stages, denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance are a part of the framework that makes up people's learning to live with the one they lost. But such is not the case for the grieving Ahote Laspor, an infamous and renowned crimina; known for his heinous terrorist attacks and meddling hands in the black market. For Ahote, the only thing he was grieving was his loss of eyesight a few days ago after a run-in with a target for work. As one might notice, not only did the target completely and utterly escape death, he left lacking less sense than he had before.

And so, Ahote's meltdown begins on a crisp night in Capital Crocus at 8:00 p.m, seated uncomfortably at the bar with only one of his two bartending liches there to keep him company.

"Denial is the first of the five stages of grief. It helps us to survive the loss. In this stage, the world becomes meaningless and overwhelming. Life makes no sense. We are in a state of shock and denial. We go numb. We wonder how we can go on, if we can go on, why we should go on. We try to find a way to simply get through each day." - Kavid Dessler

Six minutes had passed since Ahote closed down Boomslang for the night, even though the night hours were the hours when Boomslang flourished and business skyrocketed. For every minute, Ahote was staring at the table beneath him, hands clasped together, his eyes clouded, wide, and empty. He looked burdened with his thoughts, stunned with disbelief. His bartending lich had cleaned and polished every glass inside the building by now, but continued to clean and polish them again since he didn't know what to do or say to fill the silence between him and his Master. His expression was stiff and caked with apprehension, but to his fortune, Ahote did not notice this.

Abruptly, the silence finally shattered under the light and weightless mumble of Ahote. "Bring me water, please." he requested although every word that left his mouth was a command to his liches, regardless of how he articulated it.

"Master," the bartending lich responded immediately after Ahote made the demand, "your water is right next to you."

When his bartending lich elucidated this fact to Ahote, his complexion went a ghostly white. In the two and some milliseconds that the lich responded to him, all color drained from his figure and blanched him completely.

In a controlled but noticeable panic, one hand unclasped from the other and to scramble and grope around the table for the glass. Not surprisingly, a glass that wasn't cold but instead room temperature was just adjacent to his hand, placed about a foot and a half ahead of him. Ahote's face scrunched together indignantly when his fingers coiled around it, angrily taking a sip and only a sip from his drink.

"I knew that. Don't you know I knew that already? You're such a fool sometimes." Ahote scolded him with mild anger, "I'm not blind, after all.
I'll be able to see just fine if you give it another day. These things fix themselves after that amount of time, anyway."

"Yes sir." replied the bartending lich.

"I'm fine. Sometimes things just happen and it'll undo themselves with just a little bit of time." said Ahote as he continued to tell himself this for another thirty minutes.

"Anger is a necessary stage of the healing process. Be willing to feel your anger, even though it may seem endless. The more you truly feel it, the more it will begin to dissipate and the more you will heal. There are many other emotions under the anger and you will get to them in time, but anger is the emotion we are most used to managing." - Kavid Dessler

By 8:38 p.m, Ahote had relinquished his feelings of doubt and disbelief and traded them for outrage instead. There were many moments where he lashed out at his bartending lich and other moments where he cursed at no one in particular. His face flushed a soft pink as it normally did when he was frustrated to any degree, and his brows scrunched down on his face, making it wrinkled and unpleasant to look at.

"No one ever said anything about that bitch having magic. My client is supremely unreliable! It isn't anyone's fault but their's and—and—" Ahote cursed at his bartending lich, beginning to fumble over his words as his malicious expression suddenly began to harden, "—you're laughing, aren't you!" he exclaimed accusingly.

"No, Master, I—" the bartending lich anxiously contended to explain himself, but was abruptly interrupted by the fuming Ahote.

"You think this is funny?!" Ahote suddenly shot up from his seat and pointed a blaming finger at his lich. "I've just been blinded and now I can't see anything! Is that funny to you? Who even resurrected you?"

". . .You did, Master. . ." the lich babbled beneath quiet breaths, looking down at the glass he had polished four times already, continuing to scrub it with a white rag.

Ahote indignantly dropped back down into his seat, clasped his hands together again, leaned his head over the table with them, and began to brood with his depressing gestures. "Piss off."

For the next two hours and some minutes, Ahote would suddenly scream at his lich or into the building in a fit of rage, cursing at anyone and everything that he could before returning back to his seat to brood. By the time the clock crept closer to midnight, his anger swelled and passed like unforgiving waves on a calm sea.

"Before a loss, it seems like you will do anything if only your loved one would be spared. “Please God, ” you bargain, “I will never be angry at my wife again if you’ll just let her live.” After a loss, bargaining may take the form of a temporary truce. “What if I devote the rest of my life to helping others. Then can I wake up and realize this has all been a bad dream?” We become lost in a maze of “If only…” or “What if…” statements. We want life returned to what is was; we want our loved one restored. We want to go back in time: find the tumor sooner, recognize the illness more quickly, stop the accident from happening…if only, if only, if only." - Kavid Dessler

It was 10:53 p.m now, and midnight was beginning to creep up on them. Hardly anyone was out this late at night, and the dark, inky sky seemed permanent, just like his blindness. Ahote’s denial had passed and his anger was fleeting, leaving him to mope in different ways for the night.

"I’ll quit my job if that’s what it takes to bring things back to normal. . ." Ahote confessed anxiously, his hands clasped together so tightly that it looked like an unorthodox prayer, "I’ll do anything it takes. . ."

Watching the babbling Ahote was, like before, the bartending lich and then another one who dressed identically but had the appearance of a young woman. The bartending lichman was sheepishly polishing the glasses for the ninth time now in silence with the bartending lichwoman hovering over him sympathetically. After watching her fellow minion be abused by their “grieving” Master, she couldn’t help but comfort him with her presence. But seeing Ahote’s tears and stress pour from his face, she found it too captivating and pathetic to leave.

Ahote ran his hands through his hair, exposing the widest part of his forehead and his frowning countenance in full. With a trembling gaze, his hands covered his eyes as he stared into the space of Boomslang. "Oohoomm. . . my god. . ." he sighed, his voice shaking as if tears were about to give way, "I'll go apologize to the woman if it means it'll restore my sight. . . resolve this issue. . ."

Of course, the likelihood of Ahote being able to do any of this was too little to ever be acknowledged as probable. He couldn't even remember the woman's face since, by the time he had approached her, he was surprised with an attack of her own.

The piqued lichwoman and crestfallen lichman both watched their Master crumble underneath the reality of the situation, but couldn't find the words to comfort him. Both of them had seen their Master falter under circumstances of any calibur before, and recalled how his companions were always rather skilled in comforting him. But both of the liches could only watch from the counter and only respond to his calls when he made them.

"After bargaining, our attention moves squarely into the present. Empty feelings present themselves, and grief enters our lives on a deeper level, deeper than we ever imagined. This depressive stage feels as though it will last forever. It’s important to understand that this depression is not a sign of mental illness. It is the appropriate response to a great loss. We withdraw from life, left in a fog of intense sadness, wondering, perhaps, if there is any point in going on alone? Why go on at all?" - Kavid Dessler

The clock had crept passed midnight now, and now having bargained every tangible thing he could think of, Ahote swept underneath the waves of depression without resistance. He let heavy waters crash over him and swallow him in bitterness. It was bittersweet or perhaps even relaxing to fantasize about his depression this way, but in actuality, Ahote felt anguished and devastated by this. On the table, Ahote's ugly, wrinkled face buried into his crossed arms, sobbing heavily into the wood.

"Huuu. . ." Ahote moaned grievously. The now two bartending lichmen looking away from their Master with anxious, distant eyes, as if averting their gaze during his misery was the only grace they could show him. "Uuuuhuhuuu... my swight. . . my eyeeees. . . uuuuhuhuuuu. . ."

One smaller lich looked more anxious and sympathetic than the others, and fidgeted so much that he could no longer keep quiet. "U-Uhm, excuse me, Master?" he spoke in a low, quiet voice, hoping that his angry outburst would match the quietness of his. But to his surprise, Ahote didn't reprimand him like he did for the last several hours. Instead, he continued to moan and sob.

"Huuuuuuuuhuhu. . . my eeeeeyes. . . mmmnggg. . ."

"Master?" the lich tried again, but Ahote answered all the same.

The same sobbing and miserable mumbling continued for four hours, and all the liches could do was watch as he grieved.

"Acceptance is often confused with the notion of being “all right” or “OK” with what has happened. This is not the case. Most people don’t ever feel OK or all right about the loss of a loved one. This stage is about accepting the reality that our loved one is physically gone and recognizing that this new reality is the permanent reality. We will never like this reality or make it OK, but eventually we accept it. We learn to live with it. It is the new norm with which we must learn to live. We must try to live now in a world where our loved one is missing." - Kavid Dessler

"Alright." Ahote said simply, his red eyes and distant expression staring blankly at the cieling, his hands clasped and laying gently on his lap. His glass full of room temperature water had been refilled, and his usual gentle air had returned to him.

Noticing this change in demeanor, the lichmen eventually dispersed until only the original bartending lichman remained. Regardless of the abuse he endured for hours, Ahote hadn't apologized to him, because it never crossed his mind to feel indebted to a servant or a slave, and the lichman didn't seem to argue with this concept either.

Regardless of despair he had went through tonight, the tranquil atmosphere of Boomslang in the after hours slowly returned, and Ahote was left with only the sound, smell, and touch of his property to enjoy, but nothing for him to behold or see. He never seemed to notice the glossiness of his countertops, the perfect symmetry of his floorboards, or the dim and comforting radiance of his cieling lights until he couldn't see them. But the depression had passed and so had the rage, and all he was left with was the ability to accept his circumstances and how to proceed. There was no doubt that his companions would notice eventually, and there was no guarantee that this wouldn't affect his work as well. Unfortunately, there were many things to consider.

But fortunately, the gentle and kind man saw no reason not to accept it.

"Acceptance is often confused with the notion of being “all right” or “OK” with what has happened. This is not the case. Most people don’t ever feel OK or all right about the loss of a loved one. This stage is about accepting the reality that our loved one is physically gone and recognizing that this new reality is the permanent reality. We will never like this reality or make it OK, but eventually we accept it. We learn to live with it. It is the new norm with which we must learn to live. We must try to live now in a world where our loved one is missing." - Kavid Dessler

"Alright." Ahote said simply, his red eyes and distant expression staring blankly at the cieling, his hands clasped and laying gently on his lap. His glass full of room temperature water had been refilled, and his usual gentle air had returned to him.

Noticing this change in demeanor, the lichmen eventually dispersed until only the original bartending lichman remained. Regardless of the abuse he endured for hours, Ahote hadn't apologized to him, because it never crossed his mind to feel indebted to a servant or a slave, and the lichman didn't seem to argue with this concept either.

Regardless of despair he had went through tonight, the tranquil atmosphere of Boomslang in the after hours slowly returned, and Ahote was left with only the sound, smell, and touch of his property to enjoy, but nothing for him to behold or see. He never seemed to notice the glossiness of his countertops, the perfect symmetry of his floorboards, or the dim and comforting radiance of his cieling lights until he couldn't see them. But the depression had passed and so had the rage, and all he was left with was the ability to accept his circumstances and how to proceed. There was no doubt that his companions would notice eventually, and there was no guarantee that this wouldn't affect his work as well. Unfortunately, there were many things to consider.

But fortunately, the gentle and kind man saw no reason not to accept it.