Well, I wrote this story originally in Seventh grade, at a tender age where I didn't know shit from shat in terms of grammar. I'm gonna try to fix it. Cut me slack if it sucks, I'm under a massive English homework load and this is procrastination at its finest. :3
As I spun my sword through the insubstantial body of a Hitodama Soul, the enchanted blade wounding the wisp-like entity, I wished again for this to be over. With a final cry, my opponent faded into nothing, releasing a blistering wave of intense heat which washed over the bodies of Sierra, and Clive (my pet land dragon), and I. Despite the thrill, the exhilaration at defeating this, the final barrier between us and our goal, we all mentally sagged with severe fatigue, intensified now with slight burns over most of our bodies.
Ahead of us, the ceiling of the subterranean corridor met with the walls to form a gateway of sorts. Barred by an array of tooth-shaped stones, we needed only to approach for the fortifications to slip away. "Are you ready?" The white dragoon inquired, slipping into an offensive stance, bloodstained knives at the ready. I nodded, not sure the words would come out if I'd tried to utter them.
Too long, I'd been bound to this place. Literally, I had died and gone to hell, though there had been the promise of resurrection at the end. Only out of desperation had I agreed (the choice was, in fact, made for me by the circumstances) and it was time for my rebirth. I missed my brother, our apprentices, the Jumi, all of them. I couldn't go on this way. Sierra, my companion, had her own motives for accompanying me here-the devil himself had stolen her brother's soul and killed all the wise, ancient dragons of Fa'Diel.
We were here to defeat Draconis.
At great length, we proceeded into a cavern of hyper-spatial proportions. Thin tendrils of smoke curled around sharp pillars of stone, away towards the distant ceiling. The entire room smoldered with heat from the very fires of hell, leaving us drenched in an uncomfortable sweat. Bloody bones and bloodstains decorated the floor beside fresh corpses and tarnished weapons, testaments to soldiers long since fallen to the master of this place.
The deep red scales of Draconis gleamed in the hellish light, and his eyes shone with their own burning madness. He towered stories above us, and upon noticing us began taunting us, wondering out loud what we would taste like and how filling we would be. His words sent Sierra over the edge into blinding rage and she made a mad dash for his exposed underbelly.
With an irritated snort, he knocked her away casually with a single claw and turned his attentions to me. I had drawn my sword in the wake of Sierra's attack, and fortunately was poised well enough to parry the swing and thrust of his claws. Regrettably, I failed to realize at the time that he had two claws, and he swept me off my feet with his off hand, slicing a ragged gash across my lower back. I screamed involuntarily and swung blindly in an attempt to fend off his next blows. To my amazement, my sword connected with the flesh of one unprotected palm and he bellowed something awful.
I struggled to my feet, wincing as the heat stung the open wound. When I regained my senses and reoriented myself, I realized that Sierra had climbed atop the dragon's skull and was hacking crazily at the back of his knobby head and was shrieking her bloodlust and finally dealing damage to the monster. Staggering back to my feet, I dove in and proceeded to hack at a chink between the armor-like scales of his belly, satisfied by the wave of blood that splashed over my body.
Without warning, a massive claw caught the back of my tunic and hoisted me to eye level with the hideous beast. His massive eyes were dulling with inevitable death-but he was preparing to go out with a bang. I realized that Sierra was still mounted atop his head, and screamed at her, demanding that she continue until this master of hell was dead. Wordlessly, she obliged my wish, with a final burst of resolve burying both daggers so deeply into his skull she scrambled his brain.
With a horrible scream, the dragon began tottering. With a final inhalation, the beast took his vengeance. He blew a burst of flame directly at me, simultaneously conjuring a whirlwind of flame which ripped large sharp chunks out of the floor and hurled them chaotically. Sierra was knocked from his skull, but I was too far lost the white hot intensity of burning pain to notice. As he fell, he dropped me into the epicenter of the gale and I was thrown about until I no longer knew or cared which way was up. Just as I felt the winds dying, and knew I would probably die from impact with the ground, my consciousness faded at the edges. I fell for an eternity.
Mercifully, everything fell to black before I hit the ground.
I awoke to the gentle probing of something soft, cool, and damp across my forehead. My head ached like it had been split open, which I eventually found out it had. Every bone in my body felt as if it had been shattered, ground into equally agonizing muscles, and then mended by an unsteady hand. The only reason I was alive was because I had already been dead and bound to hell before the ordeal that would have killed a mortal hundreds of times over. Thankfully, some magic or another had healed me, and I could move my leaden limbs ever so slightly.
Most worrying of all were my eyes, which, try as I might, with all my might, refused to open. I could feel that whatever magic had healed me had restored my skin from what must have been burns too horrible to imagine, and so being, my eyes should have functioned normally. But they wouldn't budge, not even when concentrated all me efforts into trying.
At length I gave up, leaving it for a later concern. I assessed next the tenderness of my lungs, realizing that I must have inhaled the fire in the depths of my screams. Finally, sure I was safe, I came to realize not long later that I had no idea where. Logically, then, I decided I would test my horribly dry and sore throat for a change. I was satisfied when "Where am I?" came out without faltering.
You are safe. Vadise, the White Dragon, replied. To reassure me, he slid the silken fur of his tail against my hip. I sighed a little-breathing had never hurt so much in my life!-and relaxed.
"Did Sierra make it out?" Sure every other part of my body was restored, I resumed trying to open my eyes. It was like fighting a battle I had no chance of winning, and they refused to open.
She is in very good health. I believe she is visiting her brother at the entrance to the Underworld. Something in his tone frustrated me. There was some hidden note of compassion, or understanding, a random emotion I couldn't quite place.
"Why can't I open my eyes?" The question sounded futile on my lips, but I was out of pertinent conversation. Though I denied it at first, something akin to panic was building, causing me to tremble slightly.
I do not know child, his tone was thicker now with that infuriating emotion, but I think it is better you not worry now. You are tired; you should rest a while longer before you worry. Your wounds were healed; we have done everything we can.
This refutation infuriated me more than he had intended, and I struggled harder than ever, finally succeeding to opening one eye. I was greeted with darkness. Though for a moment, it soothed me, as soon as I opened my other eye and tried to look around, the infuriating dark began to concern me. The White Dragon had always exuded a pale aura that lighted the world around him, so even at night I should have been able to see him.
I could not see him.
"What's wrong with my eyes?" For the first time, my inner turmoil leaked into my voice, and it trembled weakly. "Holy Goddess of Mana and Fa'Diel, what's wrong with my eyes?" The panic rose in intensity until my throat burned. My breathing was erratic and shallow, and each pant burned terribly.
There was nothing we could do…I read the tone in Vadise's voice for what it was; pity. He had known long before I had awoken that I would never see the light of day, but hadn't been able to tell me.
"No!" It was pointless denial, and all it did was release the floodgate holding my emotions back. I screamed like I was in more pain than I had ever been (which was quite a considerable threshold now) and shook so violently I knocked the back of my head against the ground and lost consciousness.
When I returned to my brother, he had already learned of my loss. He has since taken care of me entirely, and I have learned to cope with a cane and trust I had never required before. Even one of Flourina's precious tears failed to restore what was lost (though it restored my horribly scarred skin to its former pale, lovely glory), and though she offered to try again, I declined.
I saw no reason for such a selfless beauty to waste another ounce of her life on such a lost cause as myself.
Since then, I have made regular trips to the Sparkling city, so confident of the path and my beloved pet succubus I could have gone on my own. On this night, my brother was with me, and we were walking in amiable silence. We had just mounted the flagstones that paved the final yards to the gate of Etansel when I was greeted by the familiar call of Rubens and his apprentice Esmerelda.
We hailed them in return and the gate slid open. Immediately inside, a familiar stride approached, and I turned towards their source and smiled. "Pearl!" I exclaimed in delight, briefly embracing my dear friend. She giggled softly as we parted, petting my hand and taking a few steps toward my brother. I heard him mumble something hopeless followed by Pearl's bright laughter before turning my attention away towards the sound a more deliberate gait.
This newcomer stopped out of reach-not that I would have touched him without permission. Elazul had never been a very touchy-feely person, and this occasion was no exception. "…Hello Elazul." I managed at length, face tipped slightly down (in the past, it would have been to avoid his distantly piercing blue-green gaze, but now was just a habit and expression of body language). I heard the rustle of his clothes, the clatter of a single step forward, but had no time to wonder what gesture had been made before another, lighter foot approached.
"Welcome back!" Esmerelda the knight-to-be announced, hugging me as Pearl had and popping a little kiss on my cheek. She and I had been close after we had together gathered the cores of her then-deceased sisters, and she always tried to maintain some physical contact with me when she walked with me. I didn't mind.
"The top tier was just settling down for the evening meal. Follow me." Her voice indicated a smile I knew was firmly plastered on her face. She was almost never unhappy, something I had long envied about her. She led us into a chamber filled with the murmur of voices and the luscious scent of an incredibly palatable meal and seated me next to the head of a table. To my right, I listened to Pearl and my brother chat and flirt, while to the left, the silent Jumi of Lapis Lazuli took a seat. The significance of this was lost on me at first, but as we settled down for the meal it began to dawn on me that he almost never sat near me.
By the end of the meal, Pearl had dragged my brother away to show him the sunset from the ledge outside her room, and most of the rest of the jumi had retired to their chambers for the evening. When I believed myself alone, I rose and followed memory and instinct to a little niche overlooking the water. A small bench had been installed there for people wishing to enjoy the view-though I was sure they had not intended for a blind fallen heroin to one day reminisce about the beauty of the Bejeweled City. As I sat, I closed my eyes (pointless as it was) and recalled an old memory. After I had shed a tear and reborn the entire race, they had welcomed me as a guest free to come and go, and many evenings I had watched the sun set over the nearly emerald waves, flamboyant orange radiance setting the water aflame.
"I bet it's beautiful…" The words slipped out unconsciously, as did the solitary tear. I drew my knees up to my chest and hugged them, staring out at the seascape I would never again admire. I believed I was alone, and allowed more tears to flow. I never really recovered from the crippling mental blow of losing my vision.
"It is," a voice like silk half-whispered from only a few feet away, startling me. I dropped out of my vulnerable posture, erecting myself at once and wiping away the tears. I listened as he settled himself about a foot away from me on the bench. I said nothing, hoping I did not look as terribly pathetic as I felt.
For the first time I could remember, he broke the awkward silence between us. "I wish you wouldn't come to our city to be alone." I heard some underlying hurt in his voice, and wondered why he was even talking to me. He had never been one to bother someone when they wished to be left alone.
I felt my posture deflate until I was as closed in as I could have been, and habit had led my sightless gaze to the floor. "I would hate to ruin someone else's night," I managed, though the words sounded weak even as they passed my lips.
I felt as much as heard his body shift as he pulled closer to me-he came so close I felt the warmth of his body radiating against my own-and nearly jumped when he placed his heavily callused hand on mine. I admired its size for a moment, having never before realized how large his hands really were, then wondered at why this distant man had decided to reach out to me in a way he had never tried before.
"Maybe," he seemed to falter, obviously rethinking carefully what he was trying to say, "I worry more about you when you escape to wherever you go in here," he accented the comment by caressing myskull and hair and wiping a fresh tear away. The contact was unexpected and made me tremble slightly, even after his hand dropped back into his lap.
"Why is that?" The pathetic words had some hopeful undertone they both agreed with, and as I asked, I sought out his hand, testing his reaction. I gripped his fingers slightly, and he reacted (as they both hoped) by switching the grip into a more familiar gesture of closeness.
His other hand reached out and lifted my chin until he was looking deep into my dull green eyes. "Because I care about your pain." The words cut into my mind but before fresh tears could form, he had leaned in and kissed me gently. I complied in shock, kissing back, using my free hand to pull us closer.
Eventually we stopped. "Thank you," I murmured, resting my head against his shoulder, holding his hand, shaking, and unspeakably happy.
"You're welcome," he replied, the barest hint of sarcasm underlying the adoration in his voice.
And we fell in love.
Most crap ending ever, I know. Don't care either. Tired. This was fun. I like it much more now. Peace out.