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A woman stood atop the protruding hillside overlooking the vast lake below. Overhead, the skies swirled ominously in heavy purples and grays, wisps of poison smothering the horizon of all direct sunlight, and only a faint illumination against the backdrop of the heavens lent the eye any sort of ability to see. The lightning rippled across the miasmic atmosphere, followed closely by the thunderous claps that seemingly echoed across the entire continent.
The hurricane-like gale, which drew razor-sharp cuts on everything in its path appeared not to faze her in the slightest. She barely flinched as the wind wielded her long golden locks as lashes against her soft cheeks. She was a knight, a Hyland Valkyrie, and the last of her kind. She wore her armor proudly, and even if the last time she had donned it was more than three years ago, there had never been a day that passed when she did not clean and care for it. It fit her form perfectly, optimized for agility and defense. She’d taken down armies of foes with this suit, and it was only fitting that she would continue on to the next great journey with it.
Suddenly, the winds stopped howling and the heavens quieted, everything falling to an odd sort of peace.
A calm sort of smile spread across her lips. “It took you long enough,” she spoke to her unannounced visitor. Turning around and letting her eyes fall upon the figure she’d thought about nearly every day for the past two decades, Alisha said, “Hello, Sorey.”
The Dragon Lord looked as if he hadn’t aged but a few years at most, still the youthful face of twenty something. He did not respond to the use of his name, even if it had been ten years since he last heard it. He calmly tilted his head from side to side, observing the woman with mild interest. After a long minute of passing silence, he raised his head in conclusive thought. “You’re not running anymore,” he stated monotonously.
Alisha forced a laugh. “There was no point. If you wanted me dead, I would have been dead already. And if you wanted me alive to suffer, then I would remain alive to suffer.”
“Hmm…” the man pretended to consider her words. “And do you think you’ve suffered enough? Is that why you’ve sought me out?” he inquired airily, cocking his head to one side almost curiously.
Alisha’s eyes shuttered, and she shook her head. “Suffering… is another word for surviving. And here we are, two lonely survivors at the end of everything. The question is, Sorey, don’t you think you’ve suffered enough?” Her eyes were soft and gentle, and had a profound depth of sorrow and weariness to them.
The Dragon Lord smirked, icy emerald eyes narrowing in loathing. “I suffer? Maybe I suffer your nonsense right now, but I have waited for this reunion for a long time, old friend.” The last word was spat out with a sort of bitter ridicule, and his lips curled in disgust, as if the very shape the word took on was a vile thing that lingered distastefully.
She closed her eyes at the response, the barest hint of pain crossing her face briefly. “I did try, you know. I thought about killing myself, but I stopped myself every single time. Do you know why? Everyone has been slain or corrupted, either by your hands or of their own doing. There was no reason for me to linger. My country was no more, the ones I loved all gone. So do you know, Sorey, why I remain?” It was a rhetorical question, one that Alisha knew the other would not humor her in answering. “Because you still suffered,” she admitted sadly.
The Dragon Lord rolled his eyes. “Please, Alisha. Can we please leave out the melodrama? You always were so great at that.” But this time, Alisha did not waver the slightest.
“I have something for you,” she announced. “It took me years to find it, and I wasn’t even sure if it even existed, but…” She pulled out a pouch from her belt and dumped a single gem into her palm. “I think you know what this is.” She held it in her palm and slowly walked down to the man.
“Iris gem,” he muttered, frowning. Casting a wary and irate eye on the female knight, he asked, “…and what memory were you so desperate to show me? Do you think it can magically change my mind?” He mocked her, a cold sneer cutting across his handsome features.
“No, I don’t think it can change your mind,” she admitted softly, pursing her lips. “But… I had hoped it might change your heart.” Without another word, she took the Dragon Lord’s hand into hers and pressed the gem into his palm, and watched as the other throw her a distrusting frown before hesitantly closed his eyes, the gem beginning to glow an iridescent blue.
She smiled. This was a memory of her own, one that she knew Sorey had never witnessed.
“Do you think it might be too much for him?” she asked the water seraph worryingly as they watched over a slumbering Shepherd, who’d been utterly drained by the addition of a sub-lord contract. She’d been pacing around the room of their inn nervously while Mikleo spent the past hour sitting in a nearby chair, calmly reading.
Mikleo observed her for a couple of passing seconds before a faint smile flickered onto his face and he returned his gaze to his book. “Sorey is strong. He doesn’t know yet how strong, but he’s stronger than I’ll ever be. And I’m proud of that,” he said it all quietly but confidently. He then paused and briefly inclined his head to comment with a light playful smile, “Of course, there’s no need to tell him that.”
She laughed, relaxing more than she would have expected to at his words. She realized this was the first time the two of them had actually spoken directly to each other, and despite not knowing much at all about the other youth, she already had an inexplicable trust in him, his faith. “Well, he’s certainly more gentle and pure-hearted than anyone I’ve ever met.”
But Mikleo had only shook his head with a smile. “His true strength lies in his capacity to understand and forgive. That, more than anything, is what makes me certain he will ultimately make it through any hardship that comes his way.”
She’d been humbled then, and it was those words that stuck with her through the years.
But Mikleo… your death was the one thing he couldn’t forgive any of us of, Alisha thought sadly.
Suddenly, something flashed, and the next thing she realized, she was being slammed onto the ground, the air entirely knocked out of her for an entire three seconds. The hand that seized her neck was strong, the grip tight, and it choked her with a murderous intensity while sharp nails tore at her tender skin, drawing precious blood.
“How dare you?” the Dragon Lord seethed, his handsome face now contorting into a monstrous fury, and pupils shifting, constricting and vibrating with pure raw anger. A snarl more befitting a rabid beast reverberated through his throat, and his chest heaved under the hammering beat of a heart charged with bloodlust. “How dare you use a memory of him… how dare you still hold onto such untainted memories of—“ The words cut off abruptly, and a flicker of pain flashed so very briefly across his features. The grip faltered just enough for the female knight to gasp in some air to speak.
“Go on then,” she rasped, light green eyes alight with determination and life. “If you’re determined to kill me, then do it!” Her voice was raw with effort, and the command was choked through gritted teeth.
Emerald eyes flared with anger once more at the taunt, and the choke strengthened its hold, momentarily cutting her completely off from all oxygen. Just as she thought she was going to pass out, the black dots lining the edges of her vision, the grip abruptly tore away and the weight on her stomach vanished, leaving her gasping for air and coughing.
After another minute or so, when she regained most of her breath and the purple drained from her face, she looked over at her would-be murderer and croaked, “You can’t, can you?” Although his back was to her, she could see the outline of his form tense up at the accusation. A part of her sang with bitter satisfaction that she’d been right, and that, despite all the madness the Dragon Lord had become, there had still been enough of Sorey in him for her to still understand. The other part of her echoed with a mixture of pity, anguish and understanding.
“You can’t kill me. You keep saying… but you can’t. You can’t.” She let out an empty laugh. “All these years, I wondered. Always wondering. It became an obsession of sorts. Why. Why you never killed me. Was it to torment me? Was it to truly make me suffer? For a long time, I believed it. And part of you probably still believe it too.” She laughed. It was an empty, bitter laugh. “But no. It was never about me.” She shook her head sadly, an understanding smile making its way onto her lips.
The man said nothing; he did not turn, did not even move an inch, but the lack of movement told her just as much. She turned her gaze towards the looming horizon, the ominous clouds appearing muted. Far away, the screech of a dragon rippled across the sky.
“You can’t kill me, because if you killed me, then all tangible purpose that’s left in your life will vanish. This veneer of a purpose for living will wear away. There will be nothing to keep you alive. And if there’s nothing to keep you alive, there’s nothing to keep Mikleo alive. The world will move on as if he never existed. He will be abandoned by time. And you can’t stand that.”
For a moment, she thought the other being would lash out again, jumping at her and this time, snapping her neck all too easily in a fit of incandescent rage. His frame quivered, and she could see his fingers twitch, yet no movement was made. After another minute of passing silence, during which a gentle breeze teased at both of their hairs, he stilled, shoulders slumping almost imperceptibly. “Leave,” he ordered, tone quiet but hard.
But Alisha had come too far and lost too much to turn away now. Holding onto the small glimmer of hope, she pressed forward. “Sorey… I showed you that memory for a reason, and it isn’t because I want to live, but because I want you to die—”
The other barked out a hollow laugh. “You and every other pathetic being on this continent,” he spat out.
“No,” Alisha stated simply. The corners of her lips twitched upwards. “I told you, didn’t I? We are both survivors, at the end of it all. I want you to die, Sorey,” she admitted tiredly, gaze dropping, “because you’ve more than suffered enough.”
“I might be tempted to believe your good will, Queen Alisha, if you didn’t present yourself as such an altruistic martyr as you usually do.” He shook his head with disgust. “Always suffering, always so in pain… how pathetic. If you were suffering, then why the hell didn’t you do something about it?” He turned on her, verdant eyes glowing with fury again. “Why didn’t you reach out? Why didn’t you ask for help? Why did you try to solve everything on your own? How could you follow that woman so blindly? How could you so stupidly set us up? How could you let them kill him?” He was roaring by the time he finished, his chest pounding with raw pain and rage and every inch of his body electrified with anger. “So sorry, Princess, if my heart isn’t singing from your noble sacrifice.”
The words hurt. They came as a million lashes falling on old wounds, ripping them anew. Her eyes fell shut from flashes of memories, years upon years of endless cycles of self-loathing and depression. Her lips quivered, and her chest hollowed, but she took a trembling breath and looked straight at the Dragon Lord. “I have made many, many mistakes in this lifetime,” she started quietly, but surely. “Some born of naivety, some born of arrogance. Some forgivable, some not. But never once, have I committed a mistake out of cowardice. So if you think I am doing this because I want to live, you can’t be farther from the truth.” She laughed. “What is there for me to live for? My country is gone, my countrymen dead. My friends have all moved on without me… everyone I have come to care for and love have departed… except one.” She looked at him. “Sorey… I showed you that memory because I want you to remember… remember how to forgive,” she said quietly, eyes soft on his. “Mikleo believed in your ability to forgive, so do it.”
He scoffed. “Forgive you? After all this time, you still have the nerve to ask for forgiveness? You’re more conceited than I thought.”
But she just shook her head. “No. Not me. Forgive yourself. It wasn’t your fault, and it isn’t your burden. Let go.”
He let out roaring laughter. “You think I require forgiveness? Oh that’s rich,” he sneered, the familiar face twisted by an ugly emotion once more.
Alisha offered him a knowing glance. “Then tell me, why do you keep on living?”
The once-Shepherd paused. “Vengeance, of course,” he finally delivered, though the answer came quieter and less energetically than one would expect.
“Vengeance,” Alisha repeated hollowly. “You mean the one you’ve finished more than a year ago? You mean the one that left Glenwood shattered at your feet, the Rolance and Hyland empires destroyed, the human and seraphim races annihilated, and even the malevolent creatures of your own making half-dead… that one? Or you mean the one you’ve sworn on me, yet seem to have the littlest of interest in carrying out, that one?”
“I could finish it now,” Sorey noted darkly, narrowing verdant eyes in disdain.
Alisha rolled her eyes. “And I think we’ve been down this route already. Let me rephrase. Sorey, why do you keep on surviving?”
Emerald eyes flared to life with anger once again, and he audibly growled. “Since you’re so sure you’ve figured my motivations and reasons, why the hell do you keep asking me then?”
“Because I want you to admit, out loud, to yourself, that you are only doing this because you don’t think you deserve to find rest in death when Mikleo met his so unfairly!” she shouted, grief and hurt suddenly raw in her core, which drew a brief look of surprise from the man. “But it’s not right,” she continued, head shaking in despair now. “It’s not right. You can’t live for another person, Sorey! He’s gone. You can’t live for the dead!” She drew a shuddery breath, eyes stinging. “You’re not keeping him any more alive than you are,” came the final broken whisper.
Sorey stared at her for a long time, unmoving except for the gradual rise and fall of his chest. Entire minutes passed before he finally spoke, “People die the moment their bodies die. It’s the selfishly self-comforting thought of the living that someone doesn’t ‘truly’ die until they are forgotten… is that what you want to say?” The question came off surprisingly light, and it hung almost casually in the air.
The female knight opened her mouth to speak, only to find the affirmation dying on her lips.
The man turned his gaze away from her and towards the sky. It was another long period of silence before he spoke again. “He always had so much faith in me. He rarely said, but I always felt it. Sometimes, it was comforting, a pillar of support. Other times… “ He paused, breath catching. “…I failed him.” A look of regret fell over his youthful features, and he shut his eyes tight with an expression choked in pain.
After a moment, he leveled a meaningful gaze at his once squire, then walked past her, a few feet up the hill from where they’d previously stood. Dropping down on one knee and pressing a hand against the earth, he said softly, “I’m sorry, Mikleo… Please forgive me, as I never could.” He bowed his head, then pressed an arm against the stone marker, in a manner that was their gesture of friendship.
Behind him, he could hear the sound of metal unsheathing, the sounds of an apology and prayer, and from somewhere far away, a voice—familiar, gentle, and chiding.
She’d cried.
She thought she would have no more tears left to spare, but they still came unbidden.
She carried him, slowly but surely, to the edge of the water. It had taken her a while to find a boat, but when she did, she placed him inside, arranging his arms to fold across his stomach. She then walked the boat knee-deep into the water and carefully climbed inside, gently beginning to row.
His shepherd’s attire looked not a day older than when they’d last fought together. It was stained with splotches of red, which she attempted to scrub off with the water. His features were relaxed now, as though they hadn’t seen years of turmoil and anguish. She paused her rowing to smooth out his tunic, and when she reached up to adjust his collar, her fingers brushed against something hard and metallic. Curious, she pushed open one button to reveal a thin golden circlet. Recognition followed by sorrow flickered through her eyes.
When she’d finally managed to push her way into the middle of the lake, she muttered a soft prayer.
“May the two of you meet again in some happier times,” she said. Then, carefully, she pushed Sorey into the water, watching as his figure slowly descended into its depths.
There was nothing magical.
The storms looming on the distant horizons didn’t suddenly stop. The water didn’t suddenly change. There was no light, no bursting of energy, no change whatsoever.
But…
For the first time in many years, Alisha smiled freely.
She smiled so widely, she began to laugh. She laughed so loudly, she began to cry.
Later, she would find the highest cliffs of Glenwood and live out her last moments flying, but for now, she simply closed her eyes and listened as the water gently lapped against her small boat, the thunder rumbling in the distance, the winds whistling a dangerous, yet muted, tune…
… she listened until there was no more to hear.