Am I too young to die?
How many times have I asked that over the past few days? Highland in its final days, and yet I think of myself, rather than those whom I have failed, whose hopes I've let die. Automatically I begin to run through the list, a painful manta of apology. Seed, Krugan. The people of Highland. Pilika. Jillia.
I want to feel a stab of guilt at the last, but in my weakness I've let myself become numb. Not wanting to admit this shame even to myself, I begin a silent apology, as if words she will never hear could somehow lessen the pain I've caused her. Jillia, I'm sorry. I wish that... we could have become friends. You say you loved me, but I hardly knew you. You deserve a better husband, one who can love you, one who won't use you. One who won't widow you.
I'm too young to be married, I add bitterly, mocking the voice that tries to excuse my crimes by my age. I'm too young to have killed, too, but I have. In cold blood. With my blood. Even if I try to justify it, I can't, not even to myself. Yes, Luka on the throne would have brought even greater ruin and death than I myself did. Yes, I did so intending to bring peace to the land. But even so...
I shiver slightly, the familiar chills brought on by the toxins in my blood. The poison used to kill King Agares, flowing through my veins; what greater metaphor could there be for my inner taint and corruption? I look at my hands, ever dirty with the blood of those whose deaths I've caused. They look clean enough, but no amount of scrubbing would remove the stain I see in my mind. I turn them over, studying these hands that have brought about such crimes, and see the mark that has grown so familiar over this year, yet remains so strange. The Black Sword Rune.
The Black Sword Rune. Not a True Rune, not quite. Not strong enough to be a True Rune, as I wasn't strong enough to-
As if knowing I think about it, the Rune pulses gently. I double over as sharp pain tears through my body, rushing in my ears and cutting off my air. This has happened uncounted times in the past few days, but even the familiarity of these seizures isn't enough to damp my instinctive panic. This time, however, I welcome the pain, even though I know it means my life is all the more nearer the end. Or perhaps I welcome it for that very reason; death is all I deserve. This is the price for power... I remind myself, clinging doggedly to consciousness, although I long to escape the excruciating agony. It fades slowly, and I gasp for breath after ragged breath, knowing I can't expect to survive many more of these fits. Masato, please, come... make an end to this. It's fitting that you be the one to end my life, to mete out my punishment. You whose name means "Just," bring me to justice for my crimes. Your Bright Shield to my Black Sword, we've been destined to fight each other ever since taking these Runes.
Or were we? Even though I saw him many times, face-to-face as well as across the battlefield, Masato had never raised his weapon to me. And Nanami.... Nanami, you said you didn't believe in destiny. You said it was just a load of crap, no reason at all for me to fight Masato. Did you really believe that, Nanami, or were you just saying that so we wouldn't fight? I close my eyes, exhaling slowly. No, you were speaking the truth you believed in your heart. But I believe in destiny, Nanami, I must, or else...
... or else I've been wrong all this time, and everything I've done has been for no reason at all. There must be destiny! I think fiercely, gripping my staff as tightly as I can. There must be, so I can be punished for my crimes. My hands and arms feel so weak that I am forced to loosen my grip, the staff slipping slightly. Sudden fear grips my heart; could Masato have forgotten our promise? I turn my head to glance at the scarred rock. Masato, why haven't you come? It's time for me to meet my fate... destiny is too strong, you'll have to fight me now.
Unless.... unless... I struggle to get hold of the vague, wispy idea that has blown into my mind. Unless there is a power stronger than destiny. But what could possibly be more powerful than fate?
Nanami... even though fate decreed that I must fight your brother, you still shielded me from the arrows, at perhaps the cost of your own life. Why? Why protect me, even though I may hurt, or even kill, your brother? Why give your life in exchange for mine? Why did you save my life at all? Why, Nanami?
I know the answer, but I refuse to accept it, refusing to allow myself any small comfort. Everyone has always loved Masato, no one loved me, I shout in my mind, bitterly denying what I so wish could be true. Even though we were related by blood, my family still hardly felt like a family at all. No one loves Jowy.
But that's wrong. Jillia loved you. And Pilika, my mind tells me. Seed and Krugan, too, had sworn loyalty me, had given their lives to buy me a small space of time. But I didn't deserve it. I betrayed their trust, used Jillia, couldn't protect Pilika. Seed, Krugan, I'm sorry your dreams and ideas for the future had to die. They were such glorious dreams... I might wish you hadn't been so loyal to me, so you could have escaped and still lived. But...I killed your dreams, didn't I?
Oh, Pilika.... if it had been possible, I wouldn't have left you. Uncle Jowy won't be coming back. I'm sorry you had to learn all this. You're too young to have to had known grief and loneliness... I'm sorry...
...Maybe you weren't really protecting me, Nanami, maybe you were protecting the Jowy I used to be, the friend you had before this ugly war claimed all our childhoods. We were too young for all this.... You were too young to...to... It hurts too much to finish the thought. I'm too young to be King of Highland. Masato's too young to be leader of an army... but yet, here we are.
I'm the King of Highland, Masato. Even if you don't believe in destiny, you must still fight me, because to leave the King of Highland alive, to leave your enemy alive...
...we're too young to be enemies, I think despairingly, suddenly aware of how terribly precious the years are, how maddeningly short a time we lived and laughed together. Masato... do you ever wish that time could have gone on forever?
But wishes don't change facts, this I have learned. If I could have brought peace to this land by the strength of my wish alone... there would be no need for kings and armies.
I tremble slightly as my vision starts to blur, my senses dimming then becoming clear again. Time is running out. Masato, where can you be?
Masato, Masato... We were fighting for the same thing... can you create the land I dreamed of, Masato? A land where there don't have to be any more Pilikas or Jowys. A place without Lukas and Leons, a place where Seeds and Krugans can see their plans for the future live rather than die. A place where friends can laugh together, where little girls' dreams aren't shattered by cruel war. A place where people don't need to die by violence, where Nanamis don't need to fall protecting Masatos. A place where Masatos and Jowys don't need to fight...
Where would we fit in such a world? I allow myself a last luxury of one impossible dream. ...Nanami, Masato...we'd live together, the three of us, in Genkaku's dojo in Kyaro. You two would teach at the dojo, and I'd... I'd learn to cook and do chores, and maybe we wouldn't have much money, but we'd be happy. And we wouldn't be related by blood, but... we'd be a family...right, Nanami, Masato? ...And once a month we'd go to visit Pilika in Toto, because her family would still be alive, and the town would still be as it used to be, and maybe we'd go to Muse sometime for her, and buy a wooden amulet with fish and stars on it. And we'd...
I break off that thought, hearing the sound of footsteps. As they draw nearer, I look up.
"Masato, you came. You remembered our promise."
For the space of one moment, I am happy.