AN: So, a new fic, and a series this time. *gasp* Please be patient with me on this, as uh. First time I've attempted multi chapter fan fiction in a long while, so. Bear with me? Ah. Niveum Fatum is my feeble attempt to be clever, and is Latin for white death, white utterance, or white fate, among other things. (Roughly, anyway.) Yay for ambiguity. But let's see how this goes. My newest torture Zelos scheme--...I mean, newest fiction. Enjoy~. XD
White and red. Bright reds seeping into cold white, staining the frozen ground. His body enveloped in that cold white, slowly turning red.
Red... Red and white...
"Zelos! Oh god... Zelos!"
It wasn't often that Zelos saw such a grim, frightened expression pass across his bumpkin's adorable face. But then again, it wasn't everyday that Zelos lay blood covered, an arrow deeply embedded in his heaving chest, another wedged in his right leg. Hahah... Nngh... He'd screwed up good, that was for certain. To be surprised by simple human bandits? Pretty pathetic.
"Ze-Zelos. Hold on. Just. Hold on..." Shaky, frightened words, a soft touch to his cheek... The redhead forced a small, wavering smile, casting that smile to the teen hovering by his side.
It hurt. The thick wooden rods penetrating his flesh, the... It was hard to breathe, hard to think, hard to... A funny place to die. In a cold, snow-ridden mountain pass, a few miles outside of Flanoir. It.... The Chosen cast a quick look about him, the... Red. Red snow everywhere. Only this time... The blood was his own. Fitting, really. A spasm rocked his slender frame, and the redhead was unable to hold back a pained cry. "Lloyd... Hunny, I..." He'd screwed up. And now, now.... That adorable bumpkin of his had tears in his wide brown eyes, his face...
Blood. He could taste it. Smell it... His breaths gurgling and short, his vision murky at best. It... Was frightening. How strange. Until recently, this... Would have been a great... Dream.... "...Lloyd..."
"Hold on. I. I'm getting you out of here. You're... Going to be fine," the fiery teen's shaking voice held a determined tenor, despite the fear in his teary brown gaze. "This is gonna hurt, but just. Stay with me." With these gentle words, the red clothed swordsman gently moved to place a supportive arm beneath the Chosen's impaled upper torso, pulling the man into a sitting position. "I've got to move you, it-it's going to hurt, but you gotta hold on for me. Just for a few minutes, alright?" The brunette's voice trembled, then broke, and again, Zelos felt warm fingers gently stroking his cool cheek.
It was far away, beyond the red snow, beyond the cold numb slowly washing upon his shuddering frame. Warm fingers, cold snow, and the taste of blood. He was drowning, choking on blood and snow. "...I...Nnn..." A soft whimper escaped his bloodstained lips, nothing more. What was it he had even wanted to say? The disorientated Chosen wasn't certain. Lloyd... Lloyd, I...
"L-look, drink this first, huh? The gel will probably slow the bleeding and-and then, I'm taking you to Flanoir, that doctor will fix you up, and the Professor, we'll find her too. She'll heal you, so just... Zelos? Zelos! Open your eyes!" Lloyd's frantic words drifted over the redhead, his voice sounding far-off and distorted, especially considering the guy was right beside him and all. Not a good sign, obviously. And... Were his eyes closed? He could have sworn his eyes were open...
"...H-...hunny..." His world was fading, the white engulfing him. The pain distant, the spasms traversing his body so far away. Lloyd. The arm wrapped about him, the smell of a healing gel pressed to his lips... It was...
All of it was engulfed. Engulfed by white.
"Z-Zelos? Zelos!"
White, spattered with red.