- Hi! This is my first story for Eternal Sonata, and my second story ever. It probably has some mistakes because I am the only one who edited it. I assure you I tried my very best! I know quite a bit on Chopin so I am deducing that the women in his room are supposed to be his older sister Ludwika, and possibly his ex-lover's daughter Solange. Although, I am not sure about Solange, but just go with it. If I am wrong I didn't meant to! Warning, I change a lot of the ending. Also, this isn't what happened in real life. Therefore, it is not historically correct , and I do not claim it to be. Enjoy! -

*I do not own Eternal Sonata, the characters, or the setting.*

Last Moments

Paris, France

Ludwika sat in the upholstery chair at her brother's bedside. All her life she has been with her sick family members, and took care of them when they had no strength left to do so. She had seen her brother sick before, but this was different. This was familiar. It almost reminded her of when their younger sister Emilia passed on.

Just like Emilia she could see his cheeks grow more hallow, pale skin, raging coughs, and fatigue. She was no foreign to these symptoms. She knew her brother's end was near, but prayed that it wasn't tonight.

The Destroyed Field of Flowers near Tenuto

"Sunslash!", Allegretto's blade flew through the air at the top hatted composer.

Instead of retaliating Frederic stood there bent over holding his gashed stomach. The group stared at him in shock. All of their hearts were weighed with regret. They watched him while he struggled for words.

Frederic stumbled forward and coughed, blood flecking the ground, " I am glad... That I was not able to beat you..."

He swayed again, "To save you... Polka," and with this last statement he fell face down in to the dirt.

Paris, France

"Doctor, he's calming down again," Ludwika said.

She was dozing into sleep at her post by Frederic when suddenly he began to have another fit. His muscles convulsed and they had to put him on his side for fear that he may choke on the blood he coughed up. In the corner of her eye she could see Solange fidget nervously. She had right to do was the second time in one night he had done this, and this time Ludwika couldn't blame it on a storm.

She looked on at he brother's thin, sickly face. It was calm and somewhat peaceful. She sat on the edge of his bed as her hand placed itself on his cheek.

"Frederic, my brother," she cooed softly.

Almost as if in response his eyes open.

She gasped, "He's awake!"

In her hands she clasped her brother's left, and leaned over him," Your awake!"

Solange stood up quickly and walked over. Her dainty hands over her mouth, "It can't be!"

"Impossible," the white haired man mumbled.

Ludwika squeezed her brother's hand again, " Frederic, can you hear me?"

Frederic's violet eyes were glazed and staring at the ceiling above them. In his mind the two worlds he came to know were intertwining at once. He knew he was in Paris, but all he could see was Polka. He needed to save her from this repeating dream. She was dying too and deserved a chance to live on a full life.

"Polka, it's your time to blossom," He mumbled.

Ludwika followed his gaze and saw nothing. She leaned in closer to him," What did you say?"

"Polka... I choose to call it Heaven's Mirror ," he whispered

Ludwika looked at the at Solange who was staring back at her with the same confusion, "Frederic, what are you saying? Who is Polka?", Ludwika pleaded.

Frederic blinked his expressionless eyes, and inhaled deeply. Then he closed his eyes and exhaled for the last time.

"No, Frederic..." Ludwika's eyes watered.

The doctor grasped his right wrist. After a minute his head shook side to side. Ludwika let out a cry and buried her face into the blankets of her dead sibling's bed. She let out quiet sobs begging that it wasn't true.

Frederic's spirit rose from his his corpse and looked on with sadness. He then turned to his piano and began to play. The song was melancholy and happy. It was a summary of his entire life. As he played the world around him turned once again into the colorful, strange world that he ventured into earlier. Here he would play an eternal sonata.