Let's just say I was in the middle of writing and then this little idea hit me like a truck (not literally, but the mental effect was the same.) Planned on making this a oneshot or something, but a happy conclusion's in my mind for the moment, so it might be two chapters. I'm also terrible at writing stuff like this... does this even qualify as angst? -shrugs- Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Stays Eternal

How long has it been since he was thrown in the dark?

How long has it been since he had last touched the ground, smelled the scent of forest and fresh air, or tasted food or water?

How long has it been since he stopped hearing his comrades' screams, giggles, and crying of insanity?

The red-haired man no longer had an answer. He tried to estimate how long he floated in this dimensional rift, this accursed prison that the Queen of Darkness threw him and his fellow Trackers into, but he lost track at around... five months? A year? It was so hard to tell; food, drink, and sleep never felt needed, as if time stood still for his body, but not his mind. All that was left were his memories, precious, fading memories of what he once knew and fought for.

My name is Elscud. I am a Kanavan Tracker and member of the Ruby Knights. I fight for my daughter, Elesis.

He remembered the battle with Kaze'aze. They had finally found her lair, located on the northernmost tip of the Ellian continent. Her Anmon soldiers were dispatched with relative ease; of the twenty-seven elite soldiers that were in the unit, only two had died, one by the hammer of a Guard, the other impaled by the long reach of the Scouts.

Scouring her castle was a far more terrible task. Every hallway had been rigged with deadly traps of a twisted mind: neurotoxins that did not affect Anmon, but caused muscle paralysis and slow suffocation in humans, enchanted blades that shot from the walls, ceiling, and floor, stone carvings that shot bolts of lightning and waves of fire, and corrupted monsters that hunted in the labyrinth of paths in the fortress. By the time they managed to finally find the demon witch, ten of them remained, Elscud included.

What happened next... Elscud still shuddered at the memory as the woman doubled over, bulging in discolored, misshapen forms until she displayed her true form, a massive canine demon of blue, white, red, and teal, armed with horns, shoulder and leg spikes, terrible claws, and two tail-like appendages from her back. Seeing the terror in his comrades' eyes, he unsheathed his sword and confidently yelled, "Fear not, Trackers! We will succeed in slaughtering this beast! Think of those who died to get us this far! Think of those you still wish to protect! That will bring the resolve you need," even if he was just as terrified.

The clash was fierce, yet slowly, it seemed as if they were capable of subduing the demon; her movements slowed due to her wounds, she was no longer as ferocious when attacking, and not a single man had died, although they were all exhausted. "Press on!" Elscud shouted, leading what would hopefully be the final charge to victory.

Kaze'aze unexpectedly leaped over the troupe, and roared as an immense surge of dark magic surrounded her, repairing her cuts and renewing her strength. "Ahhh..." Kaze'aze sighed in comfort and nonchalantly said, "It's been fun, but humanity will never defeat me. How could you, when it costs half of your most skilled merely to enter my domain? By the time you can even think of attacking me again, my army will be large enough to destroy Bermesiah twenty times over!" She laughed, a thunderous barking sound in her true form. The Trackers slowly backed away in terror, knowing this battle was lost. "Ah, killing you will be too fast, too merciful. I will make you suffer. I will drive you mad. I will make you wade in despair for so long, you will return as nothing but a shell of your former self, if at all!"

With a howl, Kaze'aze infused her claws with demonic energy. She swung in front of her, tearing a massive rip in the middle of the air. It slowly started sucking everything in, increasing in power. The demon screeched in peals of laughter as she returned to her human form, watching with sadistic glee as the Trackers desperately tried to find anything to grab onto before being pulled into the void. "Take comfort in the fact that your families will die, not suffer for eternity like you will," she crooned. "And you..." Kaze'aze looked at Elscud in contempt, who impaled his sword on the ground in a final attempt to survive the spell. "I hope you're the last to die, just so you can hear the friends and comrades you commanded silence themselves. I hope you die alone, regretting the fact that you dared oppose and wound me!" She smashed her staff on the ground, and the floor surrounding the sword crumbled, hurling Elscud and his weapon towards the vortex. As he flew in, the image of the cackling witch slowly twinkled out of existence, and darkness enveloped him.

Freefall was his first sensation. In vain, he scoured the darkness, but Elscud could not even see his hand even if he held it up to his face. After an hour of falling, Elscud drew the conclusion that this place was either bottomless or it was merely a feeling. Whatever it was, this was no longer Aernas; no place there could do something like this. It was as if he partly existed; he could not feel or touch himself aside from his sword, now securely in its sheath, he saw nothing, there was no smell, he could not even taste his mouth, and there were no worldly sensations: hunger, thirst, desire to sleep, or the need to relieve himself had all vanished. The experience was so alien, so inhuman, Elscud retreated to his memories of the world he belonged in, the world that he knew.

Hearing was the only sense granted to him. Somewhere, he heard the shouts of surprise and fear of his comrades. He tried to get bearings on where they were, but their voices emanated from various directions, as if they were teleported here and there. He heard them call out to each other. He heard them scream out into the darkness. As time went on, he heard them slowly descend into madness, the alien experience seemingly stripping them of their humanity. Their once rational calls and speech twisted into unceasing laughter and giggling, crying, grunts and yells and screams, or a sickening squelch as one by one, each Tracker killed themselves with their trusted blades in insane despair. Only when all was silent did Elscud realize he was alone.

Elscud grimaced at the thought. True to Kaze'aze's curse, he was the last to survive, and he did not believe he could hold out much longer. Even now, he felt despair and insanity tugging at the edges of his mind, inviting him to a sweet release of unrestrained emotion. He frantically retreated back to his memories, like fishing in a clear freshwater stream with his wife Penelope, patrol duty in Kanavan, and training his daughter in the ways of the sword. If only he could live in his memories, maybe his predicament would not be so terrible. However, memories fade over time, and Elscud feared that soon, there might be no world for him to hide in.

The sword on his belt beckoned, promising an end to this ghostly existence. For a moment, it was so tantalizing, Elscud could not resist. He drew it out of its sheath. In this world, only his sword existed with him now , the others' likely still impaled in or next to their bodies. It was his ticket to the afterlife, an afterlife where he would not suffer. Tracing the edge with his fingers, Elscud then turned it around, blade pointed towards him and hilt in both hands. He held the position for a while and prepared to bring it down on his chest.

Thoughts of his family flooded his mind.

In disgust, he tossed the sword as far as he could, horrified at what he was about to do. He would not give up, else his teaching to Elesis of perseverance would become nothing but the words of a hypocrite. He still had something to fight for, and he would continue fighting for it. There would be an end to this ordeal, he believed. He had to believe it.

My name is Elscud. I am a Kanavan Tracker and member of the Ruby Knights. I fight for my daughter, Elesis. I fight for Penelope and Elsword and those who gave and will give their lives to stopping the Queen of Darkness.

In the darkest corner of his mind, he wished he had not thrown his sword away.

My name is... Elscud. I... I was a knight. I fight... for Elesis.

Elscud felt so confused. He no longer remembered what he looked like. He no longer remembered what it was like to feel himself, on account of this world, or his weight, he was falling for so long. He could barely recall anything; it was as if this darkness was sucking his past out of him. In some attempt to remember something about himself, he called to the darkness. Nothing responded, as usual, but he could hear his voice, and that was a relief. He called over and over, taking in the empty joy of listening to someone, something, in this endless world of nothing.

How long have I been here?

He lived in his memories for so long it bored him. Besides, what little scraps remained were so puzzling to him. What was I doing as a knight? Is Elscud really my name? I remember some other names... Kanavan... and Elsword... Where is my home? Here? Where is my family? Did I have a family? And who or what is this Elesis I say I'm fighting for? Questions of his past was how he entertained himself now.

How much longer will I stay here?

Elscud imagined various scenarios of what his life likely was. In one, he was a traveling merchant who sold weapons and armor of the finest make to passersby. In another, he was a champion of his hometown, whatever it was, and was adored by the people. There was one where he imagined himself to be a king, but he quickly brushed that idea aside. Funny how his thoughts were so centered around royalty and soldiers. Perhaps he was a person of importance? He dismissed that thought as well. Likely, he was merely a dreamer, a guard who was a wannabe knight in shining armor.

Will this solitude ever end?

Thoughts like this could only entertain him for so long, and time stretched forever in this place. Surrendering to despair eventually, he screamed and screamed into the black abyss and freefall, desperately wishing someone to end his life or this meager existence, whichever came first, though both seemed to have stretched for eternity. It had been so long, so dull, so monotonous, nothing could be worth fighting for this amount of suffering. Perhaps for this Elesis or his supposed family, but he now doubted them as a hallucination or his imagination.

Will I be here forever?

As he desperately tried to find new memories of Elesis and his family to confirm his sanity, Elscud fervently wished, with all his preserved heart and fracturing mind, that he had not thrown away his sword so long ago.