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The tears had all dried up but his eyes were still sensitive. He stared at the tiny thorn puncture; although conscious about that being his only shot at having a future, he’d never feel good about threading that path.
Albafica squeezed his finger hoping to stop the bleeding even though that could not bring any relief. He closed his master’s eyelids, hiding the lifeless eyes away from his sight. The cold body was taken in his arms, brought towards himself as he did his best to not unleash the nasty thoughts about those who would treat death as a natural rite and embellish those circumstances, calling it the only purpose of someone’s life.
His innocence turned into sorrow.
Albafica cursed his fate and his predecessors’, the people who testified the beauty of the damned rose gardens, obligated to play that game of loneliness and misery, two by two, master and apprentice. The stakes were too high, enough to make a person not to bet just for fun.
It also hurt to knew that his name would be praised, the golden armor would cover his poisonous body and his presence would be overvalued as Pisces Albafica was to become one of the few worthy of standing up before Athena and fight for her cause.
He buried his Master, as it was his duty.
He joined his brothers in arms at a place where the gold light should provide some comfort to his broken soul.
He died, alongside his curse.
And that’s when he was able to find his peace.