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When he was a boy, he saw a star burn out.
-It's only natural that he would end the same way.
The fire roars around him, clawing at the contents of the castle's basement. It claws at his body, too, but that barely even registers at this point. There's a curse in his chest clawing away at him much wilder than the fire ever could. It's painful enough that just staying conscious is a challenge.
-That much is fine, he can deal with that. As far as pain goes he's had worse. No, what bothers him the most is that he can't stand up anymore. Even though last time he tied himself up to a rock with his own insides just to stay standing, he's left like this...
It can't be helped, if he tries that now he'll just run out of mana before he gets himself upright. As frustrating as it is, since he already decided to last as long as possible as one last act of rebellion he'll just have to deal with the sitting part.
“Why did you become a warrior?”
She asked him that, once, about a week into their contract. His Master claimed to have read all his legends, which was flattering in a way, but it also caused her to have a strange interest in minor details like that. He was going to ask why it mattered, maybe deflect the question with an obvious answer like 'well, there was this prophecy you know, ' but she had this way of looking at him that was...
“Hmmm, I think it was before I earned my name? Anyway, I once saw a star burn out-”
Quickly, without hesitation, that falling star disappeared, leaving behind only it's faint trail.
How much time has passed since the little lass escaped? The amount of fire doesn't seem to have changed at all, but that doesn't mean anything when he's having trouble keeping his eyes focussed. Did his fingers start to fade or is that just the heat making the air shake? Across the room, the priest's body has already been charred completely. That also doesn't mean much though, even when he should be dead his runes are just that good. He's just that good.
“I- is that really all?”
“Yeah. I told you it wasn't anything big. Honestly, you worry about the strangest things sometimes.”
The curse reaches his abdomen and stabs him in the liver, dragging him back out of his memories for a moment. It really is too bad he's so stubborn, this would all be a lot easier if he'd just let himself die already. The Throne pulls at his consciousness, telling him it's time, that he has to go back already. He digs his nails into his already disappeared palms and tells it to fuck off. What kind of hero would he be if he'd go out that easily?
Many of his friends saw the sorrow in that moment, but quiet conviction soared in his chest.
A wooden beam in the ceiling collapses, burying the priest's body with debris. Even under the rumble of falling bricks the crack of a body being crushed to pulp was unmistakable. Serves the fucker right.
“Hey, Bazett. Did you see that?”
This body is like that star. I will use up everything in my youth, and disappear.
“Your Servant's really strong isn't he?”
“...But why? I don't understand how a star is enough to-”
Standing up twice with a pierced heart. Avenging his Master. Freeing that lass. Starting the fire that is tearing the castle down with a single rune even after all that. He definitely looked cool in his final moments there, didn't he?
“If I had to say...”
That. That star that he saw when his name was still Setanta, back when he had no idea what was coming for him. The one that burned so brightly he still remembers it, years, centuries, lifetimes later. He definitely lived up that, didn't he?
He sighs, and smoke he didn't even notice breathing in leaves his lungs.
“...I just thought it was beautiful.”
If only for a moment, that one star was the brightest of all of them. He just thought that, if he could shine the same way, then it'd be fine. That'd be a beautiful way to live, right?
When he looks down again his limbs have completely faded already. The last shreds of mana he has left force his dead heart to pump blood on sheer willpower alone.
...Three days. It took him three days to die for real before. His head is getting fuzzy and he can't remember the difference between a second and a week anymore but if he can get another heartbeat in, if he still hasn't used up everything yet, then he won't-
“You don't have to do this you know? You don't have to go this far.”
Emer had said to him once. He doesn't remember when. There had been many times she would have wanted to say that.
“I know. I will, though.”
He realizes his face has relaxed. It's fine, he would've died eventually either way. So, even if being a very good warrior meant he was doomed-
He had accepted that from the start.