-Man does not, under any circumstance, belong to me (sadly) . -_- Neither do its characters. This story is written from each (main) character's perspective. The main action can be seen "through the lines", and it basicly happens at the same time. I'll start with the first most well-known characters, and continue afterwards, it depends.
This is my first attept at publishing a story ever, so pardon my grammar (non-native English speaker, thank you) and um...yeah, enjoy !
*A nice background (well, a suitable one) would be Counting Crows - Colorblind, if you'd like to check it out :3
A small, black and white ruffled card. It bears the sign of the joker. It's discarded somewhere, in a kingdom of sand and dust, like an anonymous cross over a grave of what was once there, casted into oblivion. Sometimes the wind blows harder, rippling through the air, but the card remains unmoved, half-buried in the remainins of a building. It's like the stubborn shadow of the past is pulling it down, like an ancient call of the earth. It's merely the fear.
Fear was nothing. Fear was a silent cry compared to the tremollo of violently played pianos that waltzed inside his core at that moment.
He had innocence, yet the true one was lost. He had himself within the grip of a strong arm, yet he never belonged to himself in the first place.
He had a name, yet it wasn't the only one. He had a single body, yet two souls found desperate shelter in it.
He had friends, yet seeing what he saw made his mind crawl.
He had a past, embed deeply in his soul like the pentacle on his forehead and the scar over his eye. Yet, at that point in time, he no longer had a past, because that past had no soul to belong to. He was void of anything, mostly words, while watching, unmoved, as a wall was standing tall in front of the path he walked on all his life. He never thought that the ivy that had grown along the wall would ever become so beautiful.
It was death, but oh, how beautiful it was.
Allen shivered as another breeze of cold air passed him. His bleeding right side ached, his feet felt like shaking sticks and his hand merely reacted because of the activated innocence. His right hand was almost crushed. This was it, he was facing everything he was pepared for to face most of his life. The end of the battle became his purpose, the purpose of peace. He sacrificed so many things, lost so many things because of the faith casted upon him by God.
Pacing along, reaching the closure of the enemy, where his friends were crumbling in front of his eyes, his mind started to linger.
I'm sorry, mother, father, for never meeting you. I would have enjoyed talking to you though. They say there's nothing like the advice of a parent. That is why I have taken my own advice. Forgive, and I forgave you for forgetting me.
He raised his sword once again and looked at the enemy in the eye. The Noahs kept their forces gathered, even though they were weakened too. The earl no longer held his usual stupid and large grin, the face that would scare away small children. He held a lingering deep gaze, like a razor held over a fresh healed wound. His smile could only be seen in his eyes, as he said slowly:
-Come, Allen my boy.
It smelt a little of burnt flesh, and the earth was smeared with blood. Fog was slowly rising, because the sun was about to rise. Almost. Allen felt like he fought for an eternity. From time to time, he would scream - not so calm and collected - , to see Lavi's hand raise into the air and signal, to hear Kanda scowl somewhere alongside him, to hear Lenalee utter a trembling "y-yes" between silent flowing tears, to see Miranda choke out a smile, or to witness Krory's small smile, with eyes closed, right when he himself felt like closing them, clenching his teeth and crying like the first time Mana left him.
Come, teach me another sad song.
This time, don't forget the last note, because it will make me even sadder.
Because I know that the song will be incomplete. The ivy has become so beautiful, that I never got to notice how tall the wall is. Friendly smiles blossomed on the ivy, and I treasured them, thinking this was the right path to choose. And it was, it just seems that the last part of me, the child, refused to open the other eye. Because now, the war is going to end, and this will be its ending.
Teach me another sad song, but end it quickly, make everything go silent and peaceful afterwards.
Sing it gently, as if it came from inside my own soul, from where you are...
Sing gently, from my own soul, where you are..
Gently, my own soul, where you are...
My soul, where..are you?
The wind blew and fluffy white flakes making a thick white veil over the land, letting it rest at last. The cold breeze tucked out the frozen card and discarded it in the waiting arms of winter.
Quite obvious, the italic words represent Allen's inner voice. I know it's short and...well, not very detailed, but I promise to try and work harder on the next one. Please review if you read - any word is appreciated, critique most of all, because I'm such a no0b at writing and stuff...
Yep. There goes. Thanks and good luck to you people ~ (goes of wondering on the Internet like a big, bad, dangerous...Coke-addicted kitten O.o)