A/N: A long time since my last entry to fanfiction. Blame real life. I think we all know what I meant. Originally three separate oneshots, but I merged them since all about Martel's death, though told from different points of view(Hence why the title seemed to be quite off). Dedicated to Fowl67 for all her awesome, inpirational fanfictions.
Tappings of feet competed with the pitter patter of rain. Clashings of swords, clanking sounds of metal armors, occasional spells, blended with noticeably desperate screamings. "I'll never let you unite us with those filthy humans!" He was clearly out of breath, panting harder every seconds passed, but eyes reflected venom. Two men that surrounded him, however, were more enraged by his constantly bitter monologues. They fought back to back, fending off enemies around them without even exchanging glances or words. Both of them were unusually fierce, and this brought slight worry and fear to their opponents, as they know they would do anything to win the battle. "Ha! We'd kill all of you, just like that nasty little woman!"
That was the cue. The young boy at the far end of the battlefield gleamed with strange, deathly air around him. The men, and the boy, took a split second pause to analyze the current situation, and while they were dreadfully holding on little pieces of consciousness left before rage consumed them, they tried to summon the coolness to rule the battlefield, one skill that had been acquired by years of practice in the war, though not deliberately. Clear mind was needed, and they wouldn't give into defeat. Not this time.
One, two, a stab. Dodging and ducking, one of the men slashed their poor enemies, no longer feeling anything (there was a time where he would contemplate the future of people he killed, that they might had family waiting there back home, but it was quite a long time ago), checking that each of them already done before moving to another swiftly. His partner lured the remaining foes out, gathering them into one tight group. They were swirls of brown and blue under the reddening sky. The rain was just stopping.
"Just a little more…Quickly finish the spell…"
The blue haired soldier took a sidestep glance to his companion, noticing his mana gathering into a large mass of power. He couldn't risk being distracted for too long, so he faced the enemies in his responsibility, taunting them. There were too much just for the two of them, so using spell was the finest decision they came up to. But area based spell drained quite amount of energy, so one time was all their chance.
"Kratos, now!"
He and the brunette-Kratos jumped back, leaving a group of men packed on an exposed area.
At once, the young mage open his eyes, unleashing the spell he charged. A loud bizarre explosion, and the rest were blurry sight of red amidst the blinding light. Heart shredding strangled yelp followed soon after, filling the wasteland with stench of death.
The battle was over.
They abandoned the remnants of the battle, all three raced to the corner where a body bathed in blood was laid. Splashes of sand and mud sparked as they ran through the still wet soil, adding even more stains to their armors but the owners didn't seem to care. Eyes that were steel and ice melted into concern and worry, mixed with fear.
"Sis!"
"Martel!"
The said woman coughed. She opened her eyes rather forcefully, facing her three companions. They knelt around her, checking her conditions (all completely drenched, but who cares now?). The blonde boy was crying, as well as the blue haired man. He third man was more adept in composing his feelings, but he couldn't hide that he was also at the brink of sanity. Perhaps, because his best friend did the crying, he held himself to represent calmness.
The blood on the ground, dripped from her clothes and wounds was already dissolved by the rain, leaving her on a pool of reddish liquid.
"Mithos…" she caressed the boy's cheek, erasing the tears in useless attempt as it flowed even more at her touch.
"It's okay. I'm okay…"
As if he would believe her. He was clearly dying, no matter how hard he pushed the fact in front of him. Not now, this was just another nightmare, just like times they underwent in the war.
"Be a good boy, okay? Hear what Kratos and Yuan say…"
"Don't! Don't say anything like you're going to die, because you're not! You'll be alive. The war had ended. We could live together like you wanted. All four of us!"
She smiled. His brother was still shaking. He was still a child, and hardships were all he knew. Martel bit her lips. If only she could make him happy, but now, she had erased the only wish he ever believed in. she knew… they would never had that life.
"Please, Martel…"
Mithos was still screaming on how they would somehow bring her to the nearest town and find a doctor. She knew better, that her frail, broken body wouldn't last much longer. She hated the fact that she had to let him face the world himself. She was failed as a sister, because at the end, it was always Mithos that protected her.
She turned on her side. Yuan was holding her hand, somewhere between needing something to cling on to and wanting to make sure she was still there, and wouldn't disappear at any second. She casted a fleeting look to her fingers, where ring of steel and gold was crowned, and into his pleading eyes. A few more difficult breathings before she could truly savor into the mesmerizing orbs, realizing that she wouldn't be there much longer to see him.
"Don't cry, Yuan, please." Another cough. Her hair was damp and messy, her clothes muddy, and her face and hands were sticky of blood, but the way he looked at her was as thought she was an angel of perfection. She wanted to laugh, as always, teasing him that the only reason he looked at her like that was because he never actually get to know any other girl, but she was already losing the energy to speak. Instead, she looked at him again. Eyes to eyes exchanging virtual dialogues, content with each other.
She was really happy at the time. At least, she was going to die beside her friends. Friends. Word that she never thought would be used. Years had gone since she brought Mithos out the land of Heimdall, and years had gone since she met Yuan and Kratos, agreeing to travel with them. It was perhaps the best choice she had made her whole life.
She turned to Kratos. His tears were apparent, though he fought back really hard to stop the flow. He was silent. Face hardened. Martel had long learnt that Kratos always fell silent everytime he was restless, afraid, or failed to manage his emotions. He was the most clear headed amongst them, one that would almost always managed to be calm and composed no matter what situation they faced. And he was crying too.
Mithos, Yuan, Kratos.
She couldn't be luckier, being loved by three best men in the world.
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Yuan sniffled. He couldn't bring himself into her sight again. Her smile-it was too difficult for him to see that smile along with her broken body (more than once, she had said that body was nothing more than mere container. They would have to leave one day, but spirit would live on forever- he still couldn't fully believe on her, but she said it was Healers that understand)
Lines of his mother's old tales, used to be one of his bedtime stories invaded his mind, and no matter how he tried to run, the lines echoed in his head.
His mother repeated the story after and after, but he didn't give much thought to it before as it was just like any other stories told to him.
It was said that elves believed that a living beings were all composed by the Elements. Fire-bodily warmth, Water-liquids that ran through your body, Wind-breath of life, and Earth, the body itself that would decay after being left by its host. At the time spirit destined to left the body, elements would left the body. What came from the earth would be back to the earth.
Now the story was materializing, and he could see every words came true, haunting him every seconds passed.
He was holding her hand. It was terribly cold, and no matter how much mana he transferred, the coldness didn't cease. She was trying to hold his hand back, but her fingers were now bony structures unconnected to her brain-drooping weakly everytime she initiated movement.
(Fire was leaving)
Stop it! That was just silly story!
It was difficult for her to breathe. Her throats dry with her attempt to keep speaking. Her voice was getting hoarse.
(Water was leaving)
The running, unknown voice in his mind didn't intent on leaving, torturing him. He convinced himself that she wouldn't die, that the tale was just tale, and that it was just another of their countless near death experiences. Just like always, she would be saved, and they would then laughed at recount of today's panic and fear.
But when he felt mana was slowly drained from her body, he gave up and cried more. To hell with his pride.
(Wind was leaving)
He screamed, letting air left his lungs, piercing the air. Travelers, through rare, passed through the area and let out scrutinizing stare at the scene, turning back and forth from the dying woman to three messed up men, all broken and crying.
He cared no more.
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Another fleeting glance, and she was already too weak even to breathe. She wanted to cry at Yuan's outbreak, she wanted to apologize for being a burden for them, she wanted to tell Mithos how much she loved him and how she would give everything to ensure his happiness, so many, so many things were left unsaid, but her lips were already too dry and her body no longer listening to her. It was ironic, that words always came at times where you could never let them out.
Before she closed her eyes, she forced her body to look at her dearly brother, whispering,"I'm sorry…"
The world fell silent and rain once again conquering the land.
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Martel was died. Died. Died. Died.
She was died. Died. Died. Died.
The word echoed in his mind, reflected inside hollow skull. He felt empty inside.
Kratos loved Martel, though not in the same way Yuan did.
She was sister and friend, one of his dearest person in the world.
And as the word died entered him from every direction, assaulting every opening of his heart, he felt empty.
Died. Died. Died. Died. Died.
Martel was died. Died. Died. Died.
It was not the first time he saw someone dying. Being a soldier he was fed up with death, often became the one who caused said death. He had also watched how his comrades fallen one by one, being one of the small number of survivors in his former group.
But why? Why this one caused so much pain?
She was died.
And he could no longer think.
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"N-n-no-Sis, you-you-you're joking, right? Please, open your eyes, sis!"
"…."
"Yuan, Kratos! Say something!"
"Let her go, Mithos, let her go…she's-she's free now. No more fight, no more bloodshed. Don't you think she'll be happier there?"
Mithos gulped. Kratos' words stung him. Although said in tremble and loss, Kratos was accepting. He was as broken as shattering mirror, but he was accepting (maybe still somewhere between acceptance and denial, but to Mithos they were all the same. Kratos acknowledged that Martel had died). But Mithos,he couldn't. He didn't even try to. The very thought of it brought chill to his spine, because every cell in his body fought back the cruel reality. Yuan was a mess, and he couldn't figure out what was on his mind as he toyed the ring on her finger like a mindless, ragged doll, burying his face on hers.
Mithos looked at the darkening sky.
He refused to accept.
Martel hadn't died. She just fell asleep, until they were able to find her the cure.
Right. She hadn't died. He wouldn't allow it.
He hugged the body of her sister, rejecting the fact that mana had gone from her being, and laughed. Hysterically. Desperately dragging himself from the abyss he'd fallen into.
"I'd bring you back, sis. Just wait. Just wait!"
His Exsphere gleamed faintly on the approaching darkness…
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A/N: The last part, Mithos' made me cringe. Eh, I dunno how to depict his cracking sanity better than this. I should be practicing with descriptions more often. The tale Yuan recounted was originally a tale I heard as a child. And sorry if anyone sounded OOC. Perhaps Kratos sounded uncaring? I intended to write him as thought he was just as sad, he tried to be strong for his comrades. It was all my lack of ability as a writer if you think otherwise. Send me reviews so I can get better!
Sincerely,
Moonlight M3lody