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The axe cleaves into his shoulder with a sickening crunch and everything explodes into pain.
He knew it was coming, he thought he’d be prepared for it but there was no bracing for the force with which the wyvern rider hit him. Sylvain immediately pitches forward, the stirrups all that’s still keeping him in the saddle and he tries not to slump to the side but it feels like he has no control over his limbs. He barely notices the wyvern rider go down, shot out of the air by a swift arrow, before everything gets foggy.
He wishes he’d completely blacked out although some small rational part of his brain knows that wouldn’t have been good. He probably wouldn’t have woken up again. Maybe it would’ve been better not to wake up again.
He’s not on his horse anymore. That’s all he knows; he’s not on his horse anymore and he’s half lying in the mud but there’s someone leaning over him. It’s hard to make anything out through the fog but he would recognize that voice anywhere.
“You fucking idiot, why did you do that.”
The words sound strangely choked up. It’s not right, Sylvain thinks, they should sound angry maybe, but never this sad. Not over him.
He wants to make a quip, say at least he was the knight in shining armor at the right time to protect Felix but when he opens his mouth all that bubbles over his lips is blood. Well, that’s not good, he thinks. His arms feel like they’re made of lead and won’t budge an inch, no matter how much he tries, be he has to tries, has to do something because Felix can’t sound like that, not over him and-
“Stop fucking moving.”
Oh. It’s definitely not working.
“Stop fucking moving, you’re gonna make it worse, you’re gonna…”
Why does he still sound so choked up? Why does he sound so sad, over Sylvain of all people?
It was inevitable, they all knew this day was coming. It’s war and if any of his friends have to die during this, Sylvain thinks, he rather wants it to be himself.
Ah. Maybe it’s their promise. Sylvain is breaking their promise. It’s not the first promise he’s broken but he does wish he could’ve kept this one. Not at the cost of Felix’s life though.
“Stay awake. Please just stay awake.”
The voice sounds frantic now, panic mixing with pain and there are hands grabbing at his armor. A sudden strike of fear hits Sylvain, what if it’s enemies, what if they’ve come back to finish both of them. It wasn’t even a big battle, just a little skirmish in the woods, they can’t fulfill their promise here-
“Please stop.”
Sylvain doesn’t think he’s ever heard Felix pleading before.
“Please stop, I’m just trying to get the armor off, I’m just trying to…” Felix takes a ragged breath as if to steady himself. “I’m just trying to get the armor off and stop the bleeding. Mercedes is close, I promise.”
He sounds strangely calm now and that’s what truly starts to make Sylvain worry. It sounds the way you talk to a scared wild animal before you have to put them out of their misery. That’s not how he wants to die. He doesn’t want to die with Felix talking to him like that.
And then he feels the warm tingling of healing magic against his skin. It doesn’t ease the pain. Rather there’s a moment where the agony becomes almost overwhelming, something he’s felt before, the magic doing its work and speeding up his body’s natural healing process for a moment. It’s not enough.
“Fuck,” Felix whispers above him.
A drop of water hits his face. Has it started raining now, too? That doesn’t sound right, he thinks. It’s strange that he even noticed such a tiny thing when his entire body feels like it’s on fire.
“The axe was poisoned. The fucking axe was poisoned.”
Another drop and then it hits Sylvain. Ah. Felix is crying. Because of him. Felix isn’t supposed to cry because of him. He tries to speak again but there’s just a gurgling sound and then the healing magic hits him again. Sylvain thinks he can sense the desperation in the way Felix presses his fingertips against the skin around his wound. And then, all of a sudden, his throat is clear again.
His breath still rattles in his lungs and he still can’t feel his arms but at least he’s not choking on his own blood anymore. He tries to cough, just to get what blood is still there out of his mouth, and when he opens his eyes again he can see a little clearer. It’s blurry around his edges but as he gazes up at Felix he finds he doesn’t care much.
Felix looks frantic, holding Sylvain half propped up with one hand and trying to manually stop the bleeding with his other. Sparks fly between his fingers, once, twice, but he’s exhausted his healing spells. He lets out a curse and presses down harder against the wound, his head swiveling around, looking for something-
“You’re beautiful,” Sylvain breathes out.
It’s the first thing he’s managed to get out since getting hit and for a moment he worries it wasn’t even audible. Then Felix stares down at him and furrows his brows before squeezing his eyes shut.
“Thank the Goddess,” he bites out before letting his head fall forward until his forehead gently rests against Sylvain’s.
It’s not what he had expected. He hadn’t been lying, Felix was always gorgeous and even more so with his face flushed and hair falling out of his strange choppy ponytail to frame teary eyes. But he hadn’t expected the reaction to be such deep and utter relief. He’s supposed to die here, isn’t he? That’s not really improved by hitting on his childhood friend.
“Hey,” he croaks out again. “Hey, why are you crying?”
Felix lets out what might be a sob and pulls him a little closer.
“You’re not breaking our promise here.” His voice is muffled a bit, face pressed into Sylvain’s hair even though it’s streaked with mud and blood and worse, probably. “You’re not fucking breaking our promise here, not by jumping in front of an axe for me.”
Sylvain chuckles a little at that but it just comes out as a wheeze.
“Kiss it better maybe?”
It’s a stupid suggestion. It’s a stupid suggestion and the fact that Felix doesn’t whack him over the head for it almost makes Sylvain panic a bit. Instead, Felix presses his lips against his cheek once, then against the other side, against his hair, over and over again until Felix is sobbing against him, rocking back and forth just a little.
The pain hits Sylvain again when the poison sets in. He’s not sure if it’s just imagination or if he can actually feel the poison in his veins but he knows once it hits his heart it’s all over. Coming from his shoulder it shouldn’t take that long to spread. The blur around his eyes gets worse and he wants to say something comforting, wants to tell Felix that dying for him was the best thing he could do with his life, anything even if it’s just saying goodbye. But his body feels so heavy he can’t move at all, not even his lips.
The last thing before he passes out is Felix brushing the hair out of his face and then Mercedes leaning over him with a gentle smile and the cool touch of her hands against his eyelids.