Chapter 1 - The Last of Us (by Approaching Nirvana) *listen while reading, makes it like 10x better*
"..."
I open my eyes ...and I find myself conscious again, alone, standing on top of a field of countless corpses. I look upon the setting sun. The day is ending.
Gone. Everyone is gone. They took away everything.
*Pant* *Pant*
Out of breath and overwhelmed by fatigue, I drop to my knees. My hands tremble as they drop my swords, eternally fragments of attachment to my home.
"I will avenge you all... I swear to Morrigan. I. will. end. all. Fomors...! Even if I am the last one...!"
Teeth clenched, I struggle to pick up my swords, tainted red by countless Fomors I've slain. They are my last memories of home to remind me that I am a prideful warrior whose identity lies in the midst of battle... And so, I trudge towards...my village. Drained of energy, I struggle to move my unresponsive limbs. My broken leather armor soaked of blood and sweat also make it difficult to walk properly. I slowly and awkwardly slide my feet forward towards my hometown, now broken down in ruins. Ashes drift in the air as the dark night begins its dominion. Tears fall as I hold my treasured swords in a tight grasp.
The village that I have known until now is forever gone. Until the end, my brothers have fought to their death. Toned as vicious warriors in battle and glory in death on the battlefield. That is the way we were raised... And that is the way I will still be living.
Fomors, a mixed race of foul creatures, are mankind's sworn enemy. Morrigan, our goddess, prophesied that when the last blood of the Fomors has been spilled, she will descend and lead us to paradise, an eternal utopia, Erinn...and maybe I'll be seeing them again once I reach the promised land, either that or I will be following in their final footsteps, my demise...
Sorrow shows weakness. As much as I am swallowed by sadness, my comrades would not approve of my behavior. And yet... sorrow envelops my desire for revenge... What could I have done to save them...? Why am I...powerless?
I was in much need of rest. Too tired to think properly, I fall. With my back against a wall, I drift into deep sleep.
And I dreamed, of my hometown in its prosperity.
Born and raised in a family of 3, my mother, father, and my older brother. My brother and I spent most of our days training, practicing with swords, while our father taught us invaluable skills of swordsmanship. My village was not very big and not very saturated, so the bonding between the people were as close as family. We were constantly looking out for each other. And before I knew it, everyone just seemed like brothers and sisters to me.
Before long, we grew up to be courageous and prideful men. My brother, my ultimate role model, has taught me everything I know. From how to dress myself to utilizing agile movements in sword fighting. He was more of a father to me than my actual father...and I love him very much. We've lead a peaceful life... Until the fateful day when the Fomors attacked.
Hordes and hordes of goblins came, catching us completely off guard... All the men rose to battle and had the women and children hiding in the town center... But we were quickly surrounded. They set fire to houses to smoke out citizens in hiding and mercilessly cut them all down. From that moment on, everything went up in flames. And with only so few of us, it was clear that we weren't going to survive...and yet... Everyone fought to their last breath. I was one of the lucky ones to not get cut down at first sight...no, I was one of non-threatening targets that did not pose much trouble...as I was still weak and inexperienced. My brothers on the other hand, fell one by one. All of a sudden, I was tackled to the side by my blood related brother.
"YOU DAMNED IDIOT! DON'T JUST BLANK OUT IN THE MIDDLE OF BATTLEFIELD!"
I lay on the ground, staring blankly at my brother as he slowly gets up. Unsteadily, he then falls.
"Ar-Are you okay?"
"Yeah, no thanks to you, you dunce! What were you thinking? Just standing around like that? You could've been sniped by- *COUGH* *COUGH*."
My brother groans in pain as he clutches his right side of his ribs. A badly carved spear was plainly sticking into his flesh. Streams of blood were flowing out onto the ever thirsty ground, soaking up and spreading out under the area of the injury. I kneel beside him, unsure of what to do next.
"You're hurt! Oh no... What do I do? What do I-"
My brother cuts me off as I panic in a state of frenzy.
"Shut up and listen to me, Lethita."
My brother calmly tells me.
"Take everyone remaining and leave... Don't ever come back..." *Cough* *Cough*
"B-but I've never been outside the village. I don't know what's out there. I can't just leave. And what about you? I can't leave you behind either."
"I'll be fine, don't worry about me. I won't let it end like this. You'll be fine Lethita. I believe you'll like it more in the outside world..."
Even near death, hope and dedication flow through my brother. The one I've admired throughout childhood, is dying in front of my eyes, all because he tried to protect me...
"Look, we can't afford to talk. This is a battlefi- argh..."
I cannot bear to look at my brother as he spews out more blood. His state is agonizing to watch...
"Lethita... Take my weapon... And leave with everyone. I won't live another night, and our friends will not either. We cannot gain as we lose more. This town is no longer our home. It is now overrun by these damned Fomors..."
I slowly reach out my hands to take his blade, even now I still listen and follow his commands... I swore to my self, that this will be the first and last time that I'll feel helplessness. My tears drop onto the finely crafted blade of my brother. Glimmering in the midst of battle, as if the sword is telling me to avenge its master.
Suddenly, 6 flying spears out of nowhere pierces into the flesh of my brother. The impact caused his blood to scatter in the scorched wind.
"Urgh... Kaaa... ... ..."
I stare in shock as the life of my brother ends right before me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a group of detestable goblins chuckling disgustingly to themselves as if the death of my brother was just a game.
"ARRRRRRGGGHHHHHAAAA!"
Enraged, I dive into the mob with my sword and my brother's. Alarmed, the foul creatures attempts to defend themselves, but it was too late. My left arm wielding my brother's sword has already cut through the shoulder of one and my right soon to stab through the face of another.
Startled, the goblins growl and begins their counterattack. But by the time they react, I have already slain 5 of them. Spears readied, they lunge at me. Two swords pointed towards the ground, blood dripping off the blades, I dash towards their right flank. A thrown spear nearly grazed me as I lower my head just an inch.
Neglecting defense, I swing my dual wields in a circular motion right through the ribs of two Fomors, eliminating them immediately. I then jump back and begin again on their left flank. Pitifully disarrayed, they struggle to charge at me. But their coordination and team work weren't exactly top notch. Three of them jump at me simultaneously, their spears aiming at my chest. Rather calm, I step forward to cut down the first one I see. 3 spears aiming at my chest come down accurately gather at one position, so then of course I use my left sword to deflect them to my left side. My right sword slashes through the head of one and my left sword swings horizontally in a circular motion to smoothly cut off the heads of the other two.
The remaining few cowardly run away to regroup with their other rampaging brethren. As do I.
Silently, I join up with the remnants in the village. Most of them are worn out and injured. Upon seeing my arrival, their morale boosted a bit.
"Is...this all that's left of us...?"
"Lethita... None of the women and children were spared. They were either burned or stabbed to death. There is no mercy from these shit faces..."
I am not sure what to do. I can only rationalize that the Fomors have stopped attacking to briefly reorganize and plan a big offense to wipe us all out.
"We...need to leave. There is nothing left for us here..."
"Fuck that, I ain't leavin' til I'm satisfied stabbing these fucks to death!"
"Yeah, I'm not just gon' leave an' let this go. You think we're easy to push around?"
"Live by the sword. Die by the sword. Is that not what we were taught?"
I did not want to leave either. How will I swallow this down? But we all know there isn't any to gain. 'We cannot gain as we lose more.' My brother's words ring in my head. Yet...our thirst for revenge grows only deeper as we wait. There isn't many left of us. And the others aren't willing to just leave. Am I...am I just to leave by myself?
"Lethita, I understand that we should abandon this town, but all of us here have nothing else to lose other than our lives. We can only live to fight another day. What else are there to live for? I can already bet that your brother told you to do this. He is the most sensible of us after all. But, I'm sorry to say, we're not complying."
I remain silent. This internal conflict is splitting me apart. Should I follow my brother's words...or fight until the end?
Teeth clenched. I grip my twin swords tight. This will be the decision of my life. Fight or flight. The human's vital response. The very autonomic element that have gotten us all to where we are today. And now it's letting me decide my fate.
I close my eyes. I hear flames cackling in the background. Heavy pants from my comrades. The smell of burning ashes. The smell of blood and gore. Swearing from the wounded. Swords angrily stabbing the earth. In the distant, I hear movement, large movement.
I open my eyes again to see the horror surrounding us. There IS nothing left to salvage. And the Fomors will be here very soon.
"Well, Lethita? Here's your last chance. They are coming."
He reminds me as he readies his sword along with the rest, composed of the hardened, the veterans, the injured, and the vengeful. This is it. The last battle. The inevitable has finally come to claim my fate. Will I flee...?
No. The death of my brother flashes between my eyes in the midst of the burning town. I cannot forgive them. If Morrigan cannot deliver judgment, then I shall do so myself.
"Let's go."
"Atta boy! I knew you wouldn't disappoint."
"Alright men, let's show them our last stand!"
The mobile forces of the Fomors have finally arrived. The showdown will begin soon. With a thunderous shout, we dash towards the large squadron. In response, they do so as well. Only one victor will rise in this turmoil. And a larger chance is siding with the Fomors. Haha, everyone here already knew that... Yet they are still willing to dedicate their final breathes to exact revenge.
Time passes...
One by one, the fighters exhaust and fall into eternal slumber. The numbers of the Fomors still seem endless. And before I knew it, I am the sole survivor, fighting with my very last breathes to end it all...
Anger surges through me and I gradually lose control of myself. I have lost everything... Everything that I ever had... I cannot... I will not... let any of them live...
All. Fomors. Must. Die.
ALL. FOMORS. MUST. DIE.
As I fall deeper and deeper into my desire for revenge, I lose more and more of my conscious. My twin swords dance wildly on the battlefield, slashing and hacking away at these insignificant peons. I don't know how much longer I will last, nor do I care. The more I kill, the more it sates my bloodthirst. My consciousness is drifting away...slowly...slowly...and slowly...away...into the darkness... This feeling...is exhilarating... Ahahahahahahahaha... I cackle maniacally in the midst of the chaos.
"I WILL KILL YOU ALL!"
Now alone in this world, I have only myself and these swords to keep me company. Nevertheless, I will never. Ever. Show them mercy. As the sole survivor, I am, the last of my kin. I am, the last of us.