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There's the taste of iron in his mouth.
He feels like he's drowning on dry land.
She towers over him, dark cloak and short silver hair blotting out the sun. Her swords shine and hurt his eyes. It's too bright.
His face is close to his as he sleeps next to him. His hair is a mess, tangles forming as he lays next to him. He can't help but run his fingers through it, curling it slightly as he shifts closer to the touch. Catha and Ruidus hang high in the sky.
He doesn't feel terror. He promised to live his life with eyes open. This was his purpose. To die eventually.
He only feels regret.
He regrets he failed his mission. The Tempest trusted him, and he failed.
He regrets the pain this will cause everyone. The tears of his friends, his family, the ones who hold claim to his heart.
But he mostly regrets the things left unsaid. The I love you's that never left the edge of his lips. His smile was like the sun. Warm and bright.
It was too bright.
His eyes hurt.
His throat was on fire.
She towered over him.
How long had he been here? A minute? A day? All his life.
The clouds were beautiful, he briefly thought.
There are noises all around him. Birds chirping, the wind blowing, footsteps beating against the earth. Yelling, the clanging of metal against metal. This was a battle, right. He had forgotten where he was.
What would their life had been like, he briefly thought as she brings her sword through his chest.
Crimson began to pool and stain his body. His throat filled heavy and fast with his own blood. It spilled from his lips unceremoniously, like lamb being slaughtered.
She pulled her sword from his chest in one swift movement, and he watched as the thick, bright red blood arched from the wound to her sword.
It was like art.
He saw everything reflected back as his vision began to fade.
Meeting Orym as two energetic kids. Training with his father to become Tempest Blades. The sunny afternoon when he proposed to the love of his life. Their wedding.
Will saw everything.
He saw his own funeral. His body being laid to rest next to his father's, his mother and sisters sobbing. He saw his husband running from it all. Five years of running until his feet bled against stone. The nights Orym cried until it burned. Their cottage sitting there, empty for all that time.
Tears began to well in his eyes.
Orym found others. A group of terrors who gave him worry lines with each passing moment. But they made him laugh again. Will watched as Orym began to come back to himself. He began to love again. Even when they had all gone their separate ways and Orym had found a new band of friends, his heart slowly began to heal.
Will couldn't help but laugh at the sight of his awkward and sweet husband giving the kind looking air genasi a flower the same way he gave him when they were younger.
It came out as a gargled spit of blood.
And as his vision began to fade, the raven's call becoming louder and louder, Will saw history repeat itself.
She towers over him, dark cloak and short silver hair blotting out the sun. Her swords shine and hurt his eyes. It's too bright.
There's the taste of iron in his mouth.