Hot flashes of pain tore all her body as she lay unmoving, eliciting a gasp from her lips that echoed throughout the entire cave. Her back felt like needles kept poking needlessly through it as she stayed laying on the uneven surface of the cave, but there was nothing she could do as her body motors seem determined not to cooperate, thus leaving her eyes squinting in pain as they focused on the damp ceiling.
She doubts she even has the energy left to make a move of standing, much less sitting up right. Not with her armor pinning her down, getting stickier by each passing second as her blood continues to pool underneath her battered body.
It's a good thing there is nothing left for her to do. She has done her duty and served her purpose. There is no more point in living. Not with her playing the part well. Too well.
All that's left to do is wait for the inevitable. She supposes that she should be scared and fighting the urge to remain there, lying and waiting for death to come while surrounded by bodies of her enemies mercilessly slaughtered in the battle. She knew that. But somehow, the thought of dying doesn't scare her. In fact, she finds it relieving.
She doesn't have to encounter any more deaths or loss. She is finally free. Or, she soon will be.
Liberty in death is what they call it.
She can still hear some swords clashing and some spells being casted from the outside though. Everyone outside the cave is probably cleaning up by dealing with the remaining enemies, no longer at high risk of losing their lives to protect something they care about.
It was all up to them to finish the mess they were all involuntarily thrown into, to destroy any slight chance of their enemies finding a way to come back after them years after this. Otherwise, all of her effort, her sacrifices, the lies she told… All of them would be in vain.
But…was it all really worth it?
It makes her wonder as she feels her body growing colder by the second, slowly but consistently being drained of its life source that leaves her already fair complexion paler than recommended. Her mind drifts off to the past, to the deeds she could have done, to the deaths she could and should have prevented, to the time when her life was at peace.
Before life became a living hell and she became nothing but an actress playing a role.
Her choice was taken away from her. She can't say that she had an actual chance at life and prevent all these because she has an inkling she didn't. It was stripped away from her the moment she faced those damn pillars.
A bitter chuckle leaves her throat, followed by a strained wheezing caused by the stab wound on her torso where a cursed knife was previously embedded deep by the now-dead figure laying meters away.
Oh how cruel Fate is. She's already gone through so much and yet here she is, lying pathetically on the ground in her own pool of blood. Hasn't she suffered enough?
With clenched teeth, her walls came crumbling down as hot tears flow down pale cheeks. No one was around as they were too busy killing the rest of the resistance. None will witness this losing battle, much less these feelings she rarely lets out. It is about time she finally lets them out, considering how she's lying in her own death bed of blood.
Or should it be called the Pool of Death?
She laughed hoarsely at the joke she made, wincing and wishing that she would stop tormenting herself minutes before her death. She's dying, for Guardians' sake. The last thing she needed was drowning further in more dark humor.
Though after everything she's done, maybe she deserves it — the misery, the loneliness, the guilt… Does that make her a masochist? Does she have enough time left to repent for her sins? Probably not.
It was time.
She knew she only has a few minutes left before she passes into the Spectral Realm. The cave isn't a pretty sight for one's passing but she will have to take it as it is. It's not that bad. Not when she could have been dying in a dungeon from wounds inflicted on her, much less having her soul slowly ripped out from her body by some sadistic reapers.
Yep. A dirty cave was definitely ten times better.
The coldness has finally enveloped her entire body as her vision dims to the point where nothing but blur through her tunnel vision could be seen. Her organs, along with her limbs, have already failed as broken ribs poked deep into her lungs. Shouldn't she be already dead in her state of injury?
"Oh Guardian," Great. She just heard someone gasping, probably from the sight of her. She supposes that if she were one to witness her own bruised and broken body lying over blood too red to be healthy, she would be doing the same.
Looking through heavy lidded eyes, blurry figures came into view. There are probably three of them, or five. Six? She can't be sure. Her ears were roaring from the harsh beating of her heart failing to pump blood to her head or any part of the body with its already limited source.
She tried to let a smile form, but the connection she feels has already close to snapping. She tries to tell the others this, but all that comes out is a pitiful cry of pain as her literally drained body gets lifted up. As she feels her head gently being rested on the person's shoulder, a sweet and familiar scent overwhelms the last sense she has left to depend on. At least she feels comfortable in this person's arms.
Because as she took in a shallow breath, eyes fluttered shut as every remaining tension lessened.
It was when her body fell with a thud to the ground after the cart she was placed on stopped abruptly for the people who was taking her to a village to treat her injuries, for everyone to realize what they have failed to do so the moment her head loosely settled against the neck of the one who carried her.
It took half an hour after someone carried her for anyone to notice that they were all too late. There was nothing they could do.
Not when she was already gone.
To be continued in Chapter One: The Troubled Heir...