Blood stained the smooth floor in petals of red, dripping slowly down an elfin woman's torn side. Eun was no stranger to blood, and yet the sight of Mercedes bleeding had his stomach twisting, even as he dodged, ducked, dived to escape chains of black magic. It was distracting, and Eun Wol couldn't afford to be distracted.
He nodded to Freud. Go to her.
And Freud ran, dragging the queen behind a ledge that was away from the battle.
Afrien was a blinding blur of onyx and glowing gold, his talons swiping at the Black Mage furiously. The man, thing, had hurt fellow royalty, and that was unacceptable. A slash of his powerful tail, and the chains, aiming for Eun, were knocked aside.
Eun had no time to thank the king of dragons. All he could do was desperately fire slashes of magic at his enemy, blood and sweat beading over his brow. The magic was draining on him, making his limbs feel heavier.
Afrien flew straight up, torn wings stretched to show all of their pale battle scars, and in one single movement he ducked down, wings folded, and dropped. The Black Mage roared in fury, staff stamping against the ground. Fire erupted from the tip.
A folly, considering that Afrien was a creature of fire. In a flurry of rippling muscles and glittering inky scales, Afrien swiped his talons across anywhere he could get to. The back of the Black Mage's head, his back, his hand- yet all that was managed were pitiful tears in his black cloak.
Eun scowled. Of course the Black Mage would have enchanted his cloak for defense.
Just then, Afrien managed to pull the cloak off the head of the struggling mage. With a triumphant bellow, he was dashing away. The opponents, all three of them, backed away, breath coming heavy while they eyed each other to wait for the next move.
The sight of the Black Mage chilled Eun to the bone.
His face was skeletal, a picture that matched his hands. Gaunt cheeks dipped in from his cheekbones, and thin lips scowled at the world. His eyes were red, and perhaps that should have felt cliche to Eun, and yet it made his stomach turn. A sickened feeling settled in the pit of his stomach because this man felt evil, it was a feeling like no other. Like he was being forced under in an inky black pool of tar, which filled his lungs until they ached and slid down his nostrils nauseatingly. The Black Mage's aura brought to mind roadkill; entrails spread across the road, vacant beady eyes, the smell of something rotting and the knowledge that this had been something beautiful, full of life, once.
Eun gagged, wiped his mouth, and looked up. There were the chains again. Was the Black Mage a one trick pony? He grunted and dodged aside.
But this time, it wasn't just the chains.
With a malformed grin, the Black Mage shot a bolt of lightning at the ledge under which Freud and Mercedes perched. It happened all too fast and gods, he should have expected it.
Eun ran, tired muscles screaming in protest, a scream tearing from his throat. He was too late.
In a flash, Afrien was there, wings spread out in a protective shield of leathery hide. Blinding light, and a roar of pain.
The smell of burning flesh.
Freud clutched his own head in agony and all but screeched, the most panicked tone Eun had ever heard from the man.
Eun Wol wrenched his eyes away. He had no time to watch the heartbreaking scene. Instead, fueled by his anger, he attacked the Black Mage again and again. The man just laughed, easily blocking the magic.
The fight dragged on until Eun's entire body ached, felt like lead. But he had finally found somewhere to call home, and he had to fight to keep it, keep them.
Freud was chanting something, eyes like steel, and the mark on the back of his hand was glowing like the last struggling embers of a fire. Luminous all but ran through the grand doorways of the temple of time, out of breath and cut up, and Eun wondered if Phantom had told him to go on and help them. Such characteristic bravado from the thief, handling the commanders by himself.
"Freud, Mercedes!" Luminous shouted in surprise upon seeing the injured heroes.
Strangely enough everything around them froze. The Black Mage was suspended in motion, one hand outstretched and the other clutching his staff. He 'watched' on, unblinking.
Eun was startled as Freud's voice echoed in his head, and judging by Luminous's facial expression the light mage's, too.
Listen to me, Luminous, Eun. I'm talking to you telepathically. Do you remember the seal spell I told you about?
You intend to trap the Black Mage? Luminous's voice rang out through their minds hesitantly.
I intend to turn the power he stole from the Goddess of Time against him! But the only way to trigger the spell is to force the Black Mage to use his power against one of us... I set the trap when I saw that we were losing. I don't think he noticed, but he won't use his full power against any of us. Not in this state...
Luminous was determined. Tell me what to do.
Activate the seals. I need you, Eun, to keep the Black Mage busy, but hurry!
It will be done, Eun and Luminous were synchronized in this thought.
Time will unfrozen when all the seals are activated.
In blurs of golden light, Luminous teleported to each seal, activating them with his magic.
But just then, Eun heard a voice that was neither Luminous's or Freud's.
Eun Wol.
Eun glanced around. Luminous and Freud hadn't seemed to have heard the voice.
Eun Wol, the female voice persisted. Freud has called upon my powers to suspend the Black Mage in time. In order to do this, a sacrifice needs to be made.
A sacrifice? Eun whispered mentally.
You will be forgotten. Erased from Maple World, as if you never existed. In return, your existence will be used as power- power to hold evil at bay.
Eun's heart clenched and he inhaled sharply, casting a painfilled look towards Freud.
I'll do it.
The Goddess of Time must have told Freud of it, because his blue eyes were widening, he was meeting Eun's gaze with a pale face.
"EUN!" He screamed.
And that was the last memory that Eun had of Freud.
Years passed. Many years passed.
Eun had woken up on a strange world, filled with fox-eared people who had become his friends and helped him find his way back to Maple World. He was still confused about it all- Wasn't it breaking the contract, if he still existed, if he could go back to his home world?
There, the hero gathered whatever information he could on the war. Information was scattered far and few, but whenever he heard of the war, which had apparently been either a hundred years ago or several centuries ago, the people spoke of five heroes, not six.
It took a lot out of Eun, but he finally mustered the courage to go to Leafre and enter Freud's old house.
It was a wreck of old, dusty wood, crashed book cases and scattered documents. Someone, someone unfriendly, had obviously been here, because this was not the work of the passage of time.
Eun spent hours simply searching through the documents, through the old rooms. He opened the windows, airing out the place, and did his best to repair the bookshelves and desk. He made the bed and found an old broom to sweep up the grit on the floorboards.
It was just like before, except that Freud wasn't there...
In a drawer of Freud's desk, filled with candles and knick knacks, Eun found photographs, black and white photographs of them except he, himself, was missing.
Freud staring across at an empty seat, fingers curled around a white chess piece as he grinned. Eun was supposed to be there, making an expression he refused to describe as pouting as he lost to the dragon master.
Aran holding a forkful of cake to empty air, a loving, sisterly smile on her normally stoic face.
Phantom smugly raising his hands in a so what? Position, Luminous yelling beside him.
Freud, stretching out his hand.
And finally, all six- no, five of them, all with beautiful, carefree grins, smiles, smirks on their faces, but there was an empty space between them.
Eun just curled up on Freud's bed and clutched the photos to his chest, letting the ones of Freud rest on the pillow beside him.
He didn't cry, but the ache in his chest, his throat, the coldness was there and he just closed his eyes and let himself be childish for onceand ask why?
And every night he curled up in Freud's bed, hoping against hope that the man he loved would come home, and he dreamt of him. Of red robes with gold trim and blue eyes that weren't cold, they were warm.
Near or far, wherever Freud was, he would wait. He had heard rumors that the heroes had been frozen in ice, that they would awake after centuries passed, and maybe it was just a childish dream, but it was something to hold on to. And maybe someday, Freud would open the door.
And one day, the door was opening, And Eun just froze, wondering if he was dreaming again, and through the door stepped-
A man in white, white and gold not red and the disappointment was tangible.
"Who are you?" Phantom demanded, readying his cane.
Eun just closed his eyes wearily, "A friend of Freud's."
"And I should trust you, why?" The man's amethyst eyes narrowed. Not a single trace of remembrance was present in those words, in those eyes. He was back at the starting block, where Phantom had asked him that very same question.
"Because Freud's favorite color is red and his eyes aren't azure or crystal or turquoise, they're yale blue. Sometimes he sleeps outside under Afrien's wing and he loves classical music, especially with violins, and he has two left feet."
Phantom just arched his eyebrows, lowering his weapon, and whistled, "Damn."
And then Phantom closed his eyes and sighed deeply, massaging his temples, and it was never a good thing when Phantom started a sentence with, "I'm sorry."
The brunette just blinked and waited.
"Freud is dead."
And Eun emptied the contents of his stomach onto the floor.
Hours after Phantom left, Eun was painting, just letting his hands guide themselves. His eyes were closed.
He blinked them open to the sight of blue eyes and a slender nose and full, smiling lips and he just-
The paintbrush dropped to the floor, trembling hands came up to cup his head. Tears began to drip down his face.
Where are you when I need you, Freud?
Freud.
Freud...
Eun leaned in and clumsily kissed the paper on the painted lips, ruining the face with his tears.
Fury overcame him, and Eun began to tear up the canvas. Amongst shredded paper he knelt, reddened face in his hands, and silently cried.
Although there was no body, the heroes had created a grave for there, Eun knelt, taking a knife in hand, and cut off a lock of his hair. The hair that Freud so loved to toy with, braiding it and putting flower crowns in it, even using it as pubic hair and jokingly asking for a razor.
He used the lock of hair to tie together a bundle of forget-me-nots, and there, they rested on the tombstone.
"Freud... You know I'm no good with words," Through furrowed brows, Eun forced a smile, "But you know I love you. I loved you offered your hand to me. I loved you when you beat me at chess, and... I'll always love you."
Eun closed his eyes.
"You're my best friend, my lover, my saving grace... And do you know why I love you?" Eun swallowed, hard, hands trembling as he traced over the name on the gravestone, "Because your favorite color is red, and you sing, badly, in the shower. You can't cook and your writing is sloppy because you just need to get your thoughts down so much that it doesn't matter whether or not it looks good. Your hair is a bird's nest in the morning and after sex and no one's ever given me a nickname but you," Eun choked out, "Because I'm only Love to you."
"Goodbye, Freud," Eun bowed to the grave and turned.
He didn't look back.