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Laslow would have liked to say that all was quiet as Corrin struck the final blow against Anankos, but that would’ve been a lie. In actuality, the battlefield was a symphony of voices, triumphant screams mixing with the cries of the wounded and echoing louder until you couldn’t tell one from the other. It fit the moment better than silence ever could, but still, Laslow would have liked the quiet. Because in the midst of the chaos, Laslow had a startling realization.
No one would know.
As his disguise cracked and fizzled into nothing, and as his body began to crumble along with it, Laslow realized that no one would know .
In the quiet people notice things. They look and they see . But in the chaos of a moment like this, people may look but they do not truly see. The only thing that matters in this moment is Corrin, holding their blade high, and Anankos, falling… falling… This is the end of a war, no, the end of a conflict that would have destroyed a world . Every town and city, every forest and mountain, every home , obliterated. The people of this world have a right to chaos.
And yet Laslow is still selfish. He wishes, in that last moment, that there had been quiet. Because when the army that had struck down Anankos screamed themselves hoarse and counted their dead, he would not be among their number. And no one would truly know where he had gone.
There would be speculation, of course. There had been enough of that when he was simply the crown prince’s retainer. He had hardly left enough tracks to be pinned down, however. It was more than likely for all attempts to find him or his family to end in vain. A depressing thought. Neither Laslow nor Inigo liked to leave people without closure. Even in hinting at and lying about his past there had always been a thought in the back of his head: that someday he would tell the truth. Someday he would tell the story of Inigo, an orphan who traveled beyond time and space to slay dragons and save as many people from his fate as he could.
He had always known that “someday” would never come. He had tried to run from it, to hide from the truth that the memories he would leave with the friends and comrades he made in this realm would be incomplete, but at this moment, here at the end of it all, Laslow finally accepted that he would be a mystery to these lands. And Inigo finally realized that his life was destined to be a tragedy.
But if there had been quiet…
Oh, how Laslow longed to look into his eyes one last time and tell him, finally, those three beautiful words. In the silence he would have been seen , for the first time since he had arrived in Nohr, no, the first time since his childhood had dyed the snow a deep red . Because no one had truly seen him since his mother, and he longed oh so desperately for another to look him in the eyes and see.
And if there had been quiet, Inigo might have been able to tell someone, anyone, where he was going. He could have used his last moments as time for some profound speech or to give some remarkable advice. Though he was sure Owain’s speech would have far outshone anything he came up with (at least in terms of drama.), and Severa would have been far more helpful with her last words, always dependable (even when she shouldn’t be.) As things were, he couldn’t even say for certain if either of them had survived the battle.
That was the whole problem really. In all the noise, Laslow barely existed, let alone Inigo. The sight of Corrin holding the Yato up as Anankos died was intoxicating. When everything was over, people might mourn, or search for answers, but in this moment, the moment Laslow died, the moment Inigo was resurrected, there would be no reliable witnesses. Any peace to be reached would be incomplete. Inigo certainly knew that. He wondered if the others knew.
Everything seemed louder now. Had something happened? Or maybe he’s merely imagining things. He wouldn’t be surprised. At this point the world around him was a blur. He vaguely recognized the fact that he was now floating up from his previous position on the ground. That was certainly new. And everything was still getting louder. He instinctively started to curl up on himself, but… something… stopped him. It felt warm. What was going on? Inigo could hardly tell up from down anymore.
And everything just
kept
getting
louder.
The chaos swirled around him now, filling his senses and overwhelming him until the only thing he could still feel was the rain, dripping down his face and onto the branches of the Mila tree.
It was finally quiet.