kinda sorta graphic maybe ?!

Maple 60 Mins Prompt: Death
Words: 1310

uses fanmade names;
Red!Warrior: Henry
Red!Thief: Jyu
Red!Mage: Anne
Red!Archer: Lilia
Red!Pirate: Serena

Revamp!Wind Archer: Matthew

A hand grasped tightly and painfully in his hair. There was a warning growl as he raised his head slightly in pain, and he let out a little breath.

He checked his injures. A cut on his eye that would likely scar, and he kept that eye closed as he blearily looked around. There was a cut on his side that hurt whenever he was forced to stretch - the same with his shoulder - his ankle was probably sprained or even broken by how much it hurt whenever he shifted on it … A multitude of bruises and minor cuts covering his body … And he was pretty sure that his wrist was broken, and some of his fingers too.

Around him, he could smell blood. In front of him - he could see the Adventurers that came to salvage the defeat the Cygnus Knights had suffered. Most of the injured had escaped - Matthew insisted they get everyone out before they thought of touching him. He had even refused healing, and Henry had reluctantly asked Anne to start healing others.

It was his mistake - the Black Wings had come back as the Cygnus Knights were almost fully retreated. They grabbed his brother, ignoring the sharp cry of pain as his injuries were jostled, and they forced him to his knees - something he didn't really mind, but …

Henry stood in front of him, about a few meters away. Behind him was Lilia, who had a look of barely held anger on her face, if the tight grip on her bow said anything. The thief - Jyu, Lilia had told him once - was shaking in rage. Anne had a concerned, but fierce look on her face, and Serena seemed almost … upset.

They were all mad - Henry and Lilia, he could understand, but the other three …? That was just strange. He wasn't really friends with them … But they were all worried for him, and for what would happen to him. Was it because he was the youngest? He was four years behind most of them, and he didn't that was much of an age gap … But - he was also Henry's loved younger brother, and from what Lilia had told him, Henry talked about him a lot.

There was a sharp voice, and his brain registered it as his commander's, Lady Irina. He must've looked awful - he surely felt so, a throbbing pain in the back of his head, blurred vision from all of his wounds … His right hand was broken - it would take awhile to heal, and he wouldn't be able to shoot a bow for a long time after …

"Von Leon," Irina's voice hissed, "Let my student go."

The hand twisted, and Matthew winced, slightly leaning backwards in an attempt to lessen it. "Why should I?" The man spoke, pulling at brown locks. "You didn't let my wife go. Why should I let this child free?"

There was a clank of armor, and he figured that Henry took a step forward in warning. Matthew was shoved forward slightly, and there was a shift in the wind that told him a blade was drawn - and presumably, placed above his neck. It worked - Henry went back to where he was standing, but his face was pale and his grip on his sword was suffocating.

"If you don't want children to get hurt, Commander, perhaps you shouldn't put them on the battlefield." Von Leon's voice was cold, and his grip loosened just a little bit. It was obvious that he didn't think of Matthew as a threat - and he drew his lips into a thin line. He would not be pitiful. As a Cygnus Knight, the first rule was clear - fight until you die.

He took a deep breath. And another. And he closed his eyes to focus, to gather the soft wind around him. He had no regrets - but he can't let the others here get hurt, so he channeled all of his hatred for the Black Mage, his anger at ruining his relationship with Henry, and drew all of it into one fierce storm.

The wind exploded around him, forcing Von Leon to fly back and collide against the ground, and Irina countered with dispersing it before it could hit her or the Adventurers.

Henry ran towards him, and he felt himself being gathered up in warm, gentle arms. He could see green eyes above him, a shade so similar to his own, and tears falling on his face. Green hair entered his sight on the other side, and he heard the tail end of a scolding.

"What was the first lesson I told you, Matthew!" Irina spoke harshly, but her hands were gentle as they tried to hold him together for Anne to heal him. "Don't use your wind when you're so heavily injured!"

Matthew gave her a weak smile, trying not to close his eyes as exhaustion ran over him. "But … It worked, didn't it…?" He spoke faintly, feeling warmth flow through him as Anne tried to heal him. Pain lessened - but he wasn't sure if anything started healing. Coughing lightly, he stared up into Henry's worried face.

"Commander - he's not healing," Henry spoke, worry evident in his voice. "Why is … he not healing?"

Irina swallowed - and Matthew gently stroked his brother's arm where he could. Both of them knew the answer - but it didn't make it any less heartwrenching.

"When we summon our own wind," Irina spoke, a hand brushing out Matthew's fringe from his eyes, "we use part of our soul to do it. It's imperative that we don't when we are heavily injured … But this idiot here decided it would be a good idea."

She took a deep breath. "If we do, there's a chance that we will never heal. And Matthew's injuries are much worse than most."

He gave a weak smile, shifting where he was. It was silent - likely, the five were digesting the information, and Henry seemed shocked to silence. His brother was dying. His little, baby brother, was dying.

Henry gathered his brother's face in his hands, brushing at his cheeks and sobbing. "Matthew …" His voice broke, and he gently pulled his brother to him. "Matthew, shh … It'll, it'll be okay, alright? You'll be able to see mom and dad …" He brushed his hair away, tears running down his cheeks as he desperately wished for it to be otherwise.

Henry let his head rest on his knees, holding his brother's healthy hand gingerly, as if he was about to break. Matthew's grip was weak, and he was barely warm. Likewise - his eyes were hazy, a little glassy, and he blinked up into the sky with blurry vision.

"Henry … Is that … mom?" He mumbled, voice distant and far away. "She looks so much like us … But we got dad's eyes." His grip slackened a little bit, and Henry fumbled to keep his hands together. "They're calling me … They want me to go." Matthew let out a quiet breath, closing his eyes … "I'm so tired."

Henry brushed his hands through his brother's hair, tears running down his face as Matthew stopped breathing, and his hand fell limply from his grasp.

A warm breeze waved through the meadow, and sun shone, despite the light pattering of rain.

A week later, he stood in front of a white marble gravestone planted near a patch of bright sunflowers - white marble sticking out heavily in the field of yellow. Lilia stood next to him, red hair flowing in the wind, a slim hand reaching to meet his own.

Matthew Solas ;
Lieutenant of the Wind Archers.

Beloved leader, teacher, student and brother.

And just like that - he was the last one left.