As I was re-watching random scenes from Tales of Destiny in order to strike up my Lion Magnus muse, a thought suddenly struck me when I hit the videos of of Lion's death and the apology he offered Chaltier before the cave collapses. This is little more than a drabble to put those thoughts down somewhere. Originally, I hadn't planned to upload it, but a friend said they enjoyed it and that was enough for me to be assured that I could share it with others and not look ridiculous.
In any case, I've not written for the Tales series in years, so I apologise if this is out of character.
"I'm sorry, you have to come with me, Chal."
If he was human, Chaltier is sure that his face would have given himself away. It takes more effort than he would have expected, but he is able to respond immediately.
A loud crash startles them both, and suddenly his master is obscured by the rushing current before he can say anything. The water swirls around them violently, jerking Lion's cape in all directions and for a moment, Chaltier wonders if he'd been trained in the same artes as Atwight if he'd be able to do anything. Could he have stopped the water? Removed it? Frozen it before it had even reached his master?
If he were more like Clemente, could he have given the elevator enough power to lift itself without Lion needing to remain behind to control the lift at all?
What of Igtenos? If he had the powers of wind, would he have been able to lift Lion up out of the cave after the elevator? Or maybe even have just enough power to send him across the clearing in order to board it in time?
The grip on his hilt starts to loosen and he panics, desperately trying to shout out something, anything, but for some reason his voice won't reach through the water. He struggles desperately, trying to activate the spells he'd once spent so much time practising – he's good with earth-type spells, isn't he? He should be able to make an opening in the cave's hard rock, an opening, a drain, something that would be of use and possibly save the boy holding him, but he knows the efforts are useless.
Chaltier feels himself slowly starting to slide downward and he can only stare up in horror as a pair of violet eyes meet his own ghostly transparent ones and he fights once again to keep his face straight. He's trembling, he's terrified, but he doesn't allow himself to show it. Yet in the end, he knows it's worthless to hide – the other knows him too well.
Lion's lips part, moving slowly and robotically, forming the one word he hoped he'd never hear.
"Goodbye..."
Lion's fingers finally go slack as his eyes glaze over and shut, the last few bubbles of air escaping from his mouth and he goes still. If it hadn't been for the current, the Swordian is sure he would have mistaken the faint movements of Lion's arms and legs as a sign of life. When he hits the bottom of the cave, he suddenly realises that he should feel cold, so very, very cold. But he is little more than a sword – and object – he has no concept of physical pain.
"Are you cold, bocchan?"
Then suddenly, more than anything, Chaltier wishes that he was not like Atwight, Clemente, or even his dearly admired Igtenos, but Dymlos – the hard-headed man of fire. Because then, at the very least, he could kept his precious master warm until he fell asleep.