"Thank you."
Out of nowhere, they came. Joseph, startled by the sudden thanks, stared at the person lying before him with confusion in his eyes. He couldn't understand why they were thanking him, especially now of all times.
"You made my life a little better."
Better? How could they say that? No, no! This isn't want Joseph wanted to hear. Not now! Not when...
"Don't blame yourself. This was going to happen at one point in our lifetime, so I'm not sad."
Why would he not blame himself when he was the reason they were lying in a pool of their own blood? They were dying because of him, and the only words they could utter were words of thanks? Words that told him they weren't upset with him? That they forgave him? He couldn't understand it. He wouldn't understand it.
"You look so pale, Joseph... Are you okay?"
"How can you ask me that now? You should be worried about bleeding out, and yet you're asking about my health instead. I'll never understand your actions, young one," Joseph responded, shoving his hands into the pockets of his overcoat and averting his gaze for a moment before returning his stare to their body.
As if to mask his emotions, the wizard's expression became stoic and void. This was his way of dealing with unwanted and unnecessary feelings. He would pretend they didn't exist until they boiled over, then he would explode and take it out on those around him.
"Don't make that face at me, now, Joseph. That's not the last thing I want to see before I return to the earth." Their voice grew weaker and weaker by the minute.
Joseph gave no response, choosing to simply stare as their life force slowly drained away, leaving the fae's body to fade into dust.
The lonely reality of what he had done would haunt him for the rest of his days.
