Wow, longest oneshot ever. I wonder if anyone likes this pairing; my friends and I came up with it only because we don't support gay and incest, and we prefer WilxRebecca over RavenxRebecca (I do, at least). And KarlaxBartre is completely horrible. You have to assume the nonexistence of FE6 to enjoy this. I seriously wonder if this is unique…
I was supposed to post this a long time ago. Ask DarkBlaziken about it. Enjoy, anyway…
I n m y L i f e
The sun finally fell below the horizon in a burst of bright blood that stained the skies and painted every town house in its sanguine hue. Hearing the gathering call of his tactician, Millenia, he ran through the city, through the blaze of the sunset, to where they had promised to meet after the stocking of supplies was done.
The final battle was arriving; the Dread Isle was only a two week journey away, on horseback or not. He had no horse, and neither did many. Just as well. There was two weeks of time to condition his mind and body for their last battle, one which might go to the death.
Millenia had told him that he would be one of the few she could bring along to the battle—she didn't want to risk more lives than were needed. Besides, Nergal would probably have few guards with him. He wouldn't be expecting their attack. They were to take him by surprise.
Again, he glanced about at the tall, high-standing buildings, the armouries and vendors of Ostia. Again, it drew up the memory of the former glory of his hometown, his birthplace, Cornwell. He recalled the way he had seen buildings of the very same stature as the ones here, burning down in the flames cast by this very city—by that megalomaniac, Lord Uther.
Again, his blood boiled with anger, with sheer fury at their reasons. "Your city is guilty of corruption, of stealing from the Lycian League, and we cannot allow it to continue to stand in Lycia, as a punishment for its treachery." And for that, that untrue excuse, his home, the place he had dwelled in since birth, had been burnt to the ground.
His family, once the wealthiest in Cornwell, had lost all its riches. And to save themselves from these dire straits, they had sold his sister to Caerleon.
Raven shook away his anger before it made him do stupid things. The exactment of his revenge would come soon. It had become the reason for his life, the sole reason he continued to stay alive through each battle; his food, his air, everything he lived for. Every effort he put in to raise his skill was in anticipation of the day he would kill Uther's last heir and destroy the house of Ostia, for destroying his.
As the army came to gather around the tactician, they noticed the new, unfamiliar person standing next to her, as did Raven. In contrast with Millenia's brown hair, hers was striking and black, stark against her plain white dress. It shimmered under the evening light, such an eye-piercing red, lighting her hair like a cascade of water, which fell over her back. Her right hand held a graceful sword of eastern descent. And her face, it was Sacaean—and her features were fierce and beautiful. Someone in the army might possibly fall in love with her just for that.
"This here is Karla," the tactician introduced the young woman. "She will join our army for the final battle."
Suddenly, Raven recalled where he had seen that face before. He thought of Karel, the other swordmaster in the army. They were too much alike—even their names were similar. Was it possible that they were siblings? Was it possible that the army had reunited yet another pair of siblings?
Karel had never come across as a brother. He would never have considered the possibility, but now he saw how likely it was.
If Karla knew Karel, she didn't show it. The moment they left for their camp, she walked to the back of the crowd, not bothering to meet Karel, nor anyone else.
Somehow, she made the Hero curious. Hanging back slightly so that he drifted to the back of the army as well, he turned to her. "Good evening, Karla," Raven attempted to start a conversation with the seemingly quiet woman.
"Good evening, sir," she answered, not turning her gaze to him, or away from the patches of grass on the roadside.
"Please don't call me 'sir', if you don't mind," he answered, reminded of Wil's silly antics. "I was wondering…are you related to Karel in any way?"
Those words must have triggered something, a memory, perhaps, for she suddenly turned back to face the front, and sighed.
"He went mad. Our tribe's rule is that only one of each generation can survive to carry our blood. Karel wants to be the one. He went mad with the desire, and I ran from him."
So they weren't the close family he had expected of them, very much unlike his own. Priscilla had been so close to him, and they had all understood each other, loved each other. Karel and Karla were mortal enemies, in a one-sided rivalry—and that was why they were apart. It was so much worse for her.
"Oh, I'm…sorry."
She smiled, shaking her head. "But well, since I know that I'm going to die sooner or later, I realised that life is really beautiful…"
Suddenly, he wanted to tell her the secret of his life. Could she be trusted with it?
"I'm going to die soon too. I'm going to kill Hector. His brother ordered my hometown to be destroyed, and it was. He made me lose my livelihood, my home, my sister—" At that, Karla's eyes widened. He sighed with the effort of getting that off his chest. "I don't care what they do to me after that. It's right, it's revenge, for what they did to us."
Karla didn't look surprised. Perhaps nothing could surprise her anymore. "But think about it," she counseled, in a way that Raven didn't mind, when he would normally have been annoyed. She was just a new acquaintance, after all. She couldn't know what he thought of being counseled. "Hector isn't his brother. Does he deserve to die for something he didn't do?"
Raven closed his eyes and thought. Yes.
"Yes, it is," he replied. "It wasn't just him. It was all of Ostia. I hate Ostians for what they did. And killing him will end their line of marquesses. They'll fall into ruin, like we did. And till that happens, I won't rest. It's why I live—it's my purpose. My life is going to end some day soon, too. But not before that is done."
"I won't stop you. It seems that we are alike in a few ways then, isn't that so?"
For once, Raven saw this, and he realised how right she was. "Yes, I believe you're right," he said, warming up to her personality and way of thinking already.
"It's been nice talking to you. You're quite friendly," Karla said, as they came to a stop near a forest, where some were already retrieving their tents from the baggage train and setting them up. She bowed, then went away towards the tactician in the darkness.
Friendly? No one, not in his entire life, had ever said that of him before. The word sent a strange thrill up his spine. Friendly. He liked being thought of as "friendly".
Half a week days into the journey, the army ran into a minor battle against Black Fang guards. When Raven had once had no one to talk to other than his servant Lucius, he found it easy to converse with Karla. She seemed not to have befriended anyone else.
"How's it been so far?" Karla turned to her left as the Hero asked his question, the two now standing in the back line, the inner defence for the army. This was a battle in mountainside, and they wouldn't be able to help much in it.
The swordswoman saw that it was an invitation to start a conversation, and she took it.
"You could say that it hasn't been very eventful, except for the battles we've been fighting," she replied, thinking on everything that had happened in the course of the last two days. "I think it's actually more comfortable in the army than it was living on my own."
She wasn't afraid to speak her mind, only to him. It was inexplicable, really. Maybe it was the fact that he had been the first person to approach her. Maybe it was the fact that she could identify with him, somehow.
She had spoken to many of the rest—Sain, who hadn't seemed to have an infinite number of compliments stored in his brain, Eliwood, the kindhearted lord of Pherae, whom she had always heard of. Hector, now to become the Marquess of Ostia, another one whose name she was acquainted with, shy Florina, towards whom Karla had had to make the first move in conversation. They were all nice, but for some reason, not as easy to talk to.
Maybe it was because Raven himself was dying to have someone to converse with. She had never seen him talk to anyone else; his features were always set in that brooding frown that never left his face. It was as if the only thing he could see was the end of his life, and that had probably guaranteed his lack of friends.
"Glad it's not too hard being accepted, then," he said, implying something in his words, something which she picked up.
"You mean…you weren't accepted…why? You're very…nice."
Raven turned away and shook his head. "Do you think they'd trust me?" he replied. "With that Ostian lord leading them. They know my intentions, but they think now that he is under too much protection for him to be attacked. Oh, but mark my words, I'll get him. Sooner or later; it's all I've ever lived for, since that day."
Karla had been about to retort, but she saw all the powerful, desperate anger and rebellion in his eyes, and chose not to. So many wished to be freed of their fates, or of the past—he was just another. If this was his way, she had no say in it. Even if Hector was innocent of any crime against Cornwell…
"I…see. But you really should have tried to earn their trust, then they—"
Her words froze in a gasp as she saw someone she had not seen in years. Had she been imagining it? She had seen him. Karel, somewhere in the lower parts of the mountain, battling a man. She had seen how fast he had defeated his enemy, how one plunge of his sword had been enough to take a foe's life.
He was so different now. So much taller, so strong, his skills and strength honed by years of mad killing, not by true training, as she had trained her own. His sword hand was faster than the wind, and so cruel, his sword now drenched in dark, dried blood.
Suddenly, the past echoed through her mind, recalling what he had been before everything had started. She remembered the glimmer of concern in his eyes when he had found her injured in the midst of the plains, after a difficult training fight with another of the tribe, the golden depths more human than anything she had seen before.
He had loved her so much, been her protector, kept her safe in her early childhood. Where had that gone? It couldn't have vanished completely from his soul…
She knew that she would have to face him, one day, to fulfill the rule. She knew that there would be no changing that, and that when it came, she would accept her fate willingly, allow death to claim her, for her brother's sake. She had no qualms about it.
"Karla? Can you hear me?" She was suddenly brought back to the conversation by Raven's voice. "What is it?"
She shook her head. "I saw my brother, that's all," she replied. "He's—different now."
For moments, Raven wondered what Karel had been before, but realised that his old self would probably never return, and didn't bother thinking about it.
For a while more, Karla looked shaken by her glimpse at Karel. Had he changed that much? Was it that his new personality frightened her so deeply, and did that mean that, somewhere in the past, the swordmaster had once been…more human? Even kind and loving?
Imagining him that way was impossible for the Hero. But yet again, Time could change so much, so easily. Circumstances might have moulded him into what he was now. As Karla had said, it had been the rule of the tribe that had turned him into this. Maybe…there was a chance that he might actually return, if he could see past this crazy desire?
"I'll…I'll have to face him, one day. He'll battle me, and I'll lose. I have to do it soon…before we part. I had to tell you…"
Raven rested a hand on her arm, making her glance his way. "Don't worry," he told her, realizing that this was the fate that awaited both of them. She sighed and looked at the ground.
As they approached the port of Badon as they had half a year ago, Millenia's army was confronted yet again. He had been talking to Lucius and Karla, suddenly finding that he enjoyed conversation with the swordmaster, and that he had never understood a person more.
He had found her to be a deep person with so many dimensions and characters, found out the reason that she had risen to such skill with the sword—it had all been for the sake of finding her brother, whom she had lost eight years ago. She hated this life of violence, she had told him.
The conversation broke up abruptly as the enemy soldiers appeared from the buildings of the port, weapons seeming out of place in the market city. Raven drew his sword and Karla drew hers. Around them, the crowd of army members moved their hands for their weapons, tomes and staves.
There was a roaring command for the foe, and Millenia similarly called for them to attack. That instant, Kent, Sain and Marcus were riding out ahead of the group, flying units soaring into the air with the beat of wings. More enemies were teeming from their hiding places, unnoticed earlier but now surging in their full numbers.
"This looks like it's going to be interesting," Raven said, the usual exhilaration coursing through him. Karla nodded, assessing their situation as the mounted units moved to lead the attack and the range attackers fell behind them, Serra and Priscilla staying by Merlinus and Millenia.
Three lance-carrying soldiers decided to come their way. No matter. Raven had experience with dealing with those, and he was sure that Karla did. Millenia had forgotten give him any axes before the battle, and he would have to trust his heavy sword.
Karla went forth first, taking two on at once. Her moves were too swift to follow, and in a matter of seconds, they were scored through with wounds, their armour scratched. They stumbled past her as she went forward to face the third, and Raven faced them on, sword ready.
Their lances flailed about, as they had done to Karla earlier, but now with less energy. Drops of blood spattered themselves over his face as he held off the attacks with his blade. It was a matter of reflexes with this kind; they were slow with their huge weapons and lack of mounts.
One left an area of defencelessness for him to exploit, and he did so, curving his sword blow upwards into his chin. He staggered with the blow and fell off the end of the Hero's sword. The other had managed to knock hard at his shoulder, but he turned in time to take the soldier during his few seconds of recovery. He, too, went fast, and more blood splashed over the ground, dirtying his clothes even more.
Raven turned and saw that the swordmaster had already finished off the third of their attackers, and the two took another cautious look around. The rest seemed to be doing well against this attack force, and they were free for now, being in the back lines again.
"How do you attack with such a heavy weapon?"
Karla was observing his sword with interest. He glanced at hers, so much slimmer and yet even more deadly. He wondered himself how she fought with such a weapon.
"It just takes practice, you know," Raven replied, swinging it a few times. "I've gotten used to the weight. As for yours…how do you direct the force of the blow properly if it's so light?"
She smiled, then began to laugh, for no reason at all. "We have different styles," she said. "Want to switch?"
The idea seemed quite interesting, so he nodded and took her slim sword, its edge seeming sharp enough to slice even bone. He passed Karla his sword, and smiled at the way her slim body staggered with the weight, which she must have found surprisingly heavy.
Raven twirled the sword around, so light it might have been his scabbard. Karla attempted one of her fast swordmaster swings in a circular motion, the inertia of the weapon suddenly throwing her off balance. She reached out and grabbed the Hero's shoulder tightly, and he helped her stand. To his surprise, he found himself blushing.
"Hm, I'm never going to learn to use that," she commented, brushing herself. Raven turned away, realizing that he was finding it harder and harder not to look at her. "Here." Nervously he turned around to take his sword, returning her own to the swordswoman.
She was smiling again. He had never noticed how beautiful her smile was. "Not easy, with yours," Raven said, trying to keep himself from stumbling over his words. "It's—light. How does it do any damage?"
"It's all about the technique," she answered simply, giving it a short twirl. Every of her movements caught onto his heart, like a piercing thorn. He shook his head.
Suddenly, Karla whirled around to face him and cried out in alarm. She swept past him and he turned just in time to see her go into a battle with a Pegasus Knight. Raven stepped forward and added his attacks to hers. Their foe was speedy, and had the advantage of flight; she swirled through the air on her mount's wings, and they dodged in opposite directions, trying to keep themselves from being hit by her flailing lance.
Raven saw Karla fly forward, too fast to follow. As the knight dodged hers, he stood there to intercept her, and with one sideways blow with his sword, she fell off her Pegasus, lance flying back and clattering to the cobblestones, practically defenceless now.
Karla reacted instantly. She had the Pegasus Knight in her power instantly, and a in a moment, she had knocked her unconscious.
"Why didn't you…kill her?" Raven questioned, walking up to her, fully conscious of the fact that she stood next to him.
"I won't kill, as long as it's not necessary. She was forced into battle. It's not her fault that she's in battle. I think…she doesn't deserve to die."
He agreed with her choice. Maybe…he shouldn't think of killing all the time. There wasn't really any need. And yet again, his life would be over in a week at most. Why should he care about the choices that he made?
He glanced at the troubled swordmaster at his side, and he asked himself. Why would he start to have feelings for someone, so close to his death, and to hers? This death would be so untimely. But then, why should he question something he had lived for since the day his home and livelihood had been taken from him?
In their next week or so of journeying, Raven's feelings for Karla only grew. He didn't know how, but she was the only person who knew what he was thinking, the only person he dared to turn to for conversation and comfort. And yet, now, he found it so hard to talk to her, to meet her gaze, to stand with her. What good was this going to do, knowing that both their lives were going to end so soon? He was helpless against it.
The final battle had finally come. Up the stairs to the Dragon's Gate they ascended, up towards the shining light beyond the ringing stone, knowing that their challenge lay waiting somewhere beyond. Suddenly, the gates clashed shut, and they were alone in this unworldly, glowing stone world, the rest of the army shut off from the fifteen who stood within.
"We'll get out of this alive," Karla promised. Her voice was all it took; he believed her words, and turned to face the source of the bright light, feeling reassured by her presence.
Millenia gave the command for the battle to start, and they stepped forward, not caring for what fate awaited.
Every move counted. Millenia wrote and rewrote plans on the spot, changing their strategy every minute to accommodate the drastic surprises that Nergal's morphs sprung on them. Every one of the fifteen played their part, knowing that the tactician's strategy counted on their success.
"Raven, to the northwest," she called. The call of his name made the Hero turn, and he followed the command, his heartbeat growing loud in his ears. A bishop stepped forward from the doorway, beside which Lucius stood. His servant smiled to him. "Lord Raymond, try your best," he said. For those moments, he was thankful for the presence of his vassal.
Raven swallowed, turning back to the other bishop. He recognized the face—Kenneth. But he was so much paler now, and his eyes were lifeless, actions unnatural. He had been turned into a morph.
Their battle lasted a while. Every light spell seemed to burn through his skin, but he allowed the pain to die down, before attempting blow after blow at the morph's chest. When he finally drove the blade through his robes into his flesh, there was no blood; Kenneth suddenly lost his pallor and smiled. Moments later, he fell to the ground, smile still lingering on his lips. Raven shivered.
"Lucius, take on the druid!" Raven stepped back as the second magic user exited the room, and Lucius moved forward to face the darkly-robed druid.
He turned momentarily to watch the rest. He heard a command shouted to Karla; she went ahead to face Uhai's morph, Raven sure that she woule be able to take the nomadic trooper down on her own.
Then he saw another's shadow cross the ground beside Uhai, and at once he saw danger. She hadn't seen the archer, and deep in hiding, he was drawing his bow, aiming an arrow…
"Get out of the way!" he yelled despite himself, soaring over the stone floor to knock Karla aside, in time to allow the hidden archer's arrow to fly from the alcove and clatter to the ground on the other side of the huge stone room. He looked down to find the swordswoman in his arms, her eyes wide with terror. He hoped that she couldn't hear his heartbeat.
"R-Raven…"
"Lord Raymond!" This time, Lucius took the second arrow, Uhai's arrow, out of the air with a blast of Aureola. The heat flared across his face, and he quickly turned back to Karla.
She stood again, smiling and looking about at her robes. "Sorry about that," she quickly said with a small laugh. "I should have been paying more attention."
Raven breathed out with relief that she was alright. But Millenia didn't allow any more than those few words. "Alright, both of you, attack Uhai!"
It didn't take long; as Karla faced the strongest of the three bow users there, Raven kept the other two at bay, picking them off before they had managed to string any arrows.
Two hours, two long, grueling hours later, they left the Dragon's Gate, sweaty from the repeated blast of flames on the rock, from all the effort spent on their fight—their last fight. As Karla appeared from the doorway, she breathed in and laughed—but her laughter was cut short as she recalled what it meant.
Karel. Swallowing hard, she left Raven and Lucius, and walked nervously towards her brother, half amazed at herself for being afraid to face her own kindred.
"Karla, you have finally come." Karel wasn't even looking at her, but the voice, in all its power, was directed at her. "Meet me tonight, midnight, in the forest. I will be waiting."
Waiting…to end me.
Without having to consider, she knew what was going to happen, and she accepted it. What more had she in life, anyway? For eight years, she had lived to find this man, to finally see him face to face, to die at his hand—why should she fear now?
Her first thought, only thought, was Raven. All of a sudden, she didn't want to leave this world…for him. She had always thought her life worthless…but this single soul had given her something to smile for, shown her a purpose for which she could live. She wanted to be with him, she realized. She felt something for him, something already deeper than friendship…
Karla shook her head, as the rest proceeded down into the field by the forest to meet the rest of the army. She followed, unsure all of a sudden.
Raven looked up grimly at the evening sky. Today would be the last day they would spend together, and today was his last chance to do what he had planned to do for more than half a decade. He didn't care what happened after that; only that he would succeed.
Then he thought for a few moments. Hector…never really did anything. Karla had said that. Suddenly, he didn't know whether to believe the swordmaster, or himself. What was the truth? Was he really doing what was right, in giving up his life just to get rid of the last Marquess of Ostia? And over all…he had fallen in love. He didn't want to give it up, all of a sudden…
Don't be stupid. She's dying tonight too, for her brother. We'll do what is right, and we'll never regret it, either of us.
Even he didn't believe that, when he would have two weeks ago.
The night had fallen a few hours ago, and as the last few sleepy members of the army went back to their tents for what was their last sleep together as Millenia's army, Raven lingered behind to think. The calls of the owls and cicadas rose gently to replace evening birds, and the trees of the forest swished gently.
He heard a breath from close by—he looked in its direction to see Karla, her eyes cast at the dying embers in the center of the area where the army had just eaten.
"Karla—"
"Raven…"
She stood and came to him. "Our last night, isn't it?" she said, not looking at anything in particular, as if averting his gaze. "It'll…be alright, I'm sure. It's what we both want." She turned to the tents meaningfully. "But before…before that," she was crying silently, Raven suddenly noticed, the tears not reaching her voice. "Before that, I want to—to hold your hand…"
He didn't hesitate to take her hand in his grip, trying to transmit the message I love you through the pressure of his hand, for he found that he could not say it. She smiled and stood up, sighing again, turning to the forest. "It's close to midnight. I'll—go now." Then without another uttered word, she entered the darkness, vanished from his sight. Raven realized that that was the last he would ever see of her. How much his heart ached with his painful feelings, wishing he had said something earlier. But she was already gone.
And it's my turn too.
Carefully, in the midnight, he slipped through the shadows towards the tent of the blue-haired lord. He was shaking with nerves, but also with something else. He recalled Karla's words. He recalled how she had given their enemy, the Pegasus Knight, a chance to live, for she had been innocent. Then, again, the calling of his past came back, haunting, egging him on.
Who should he listen to?
Fighting everything, knowing that he had waited long for this chance, he reached the door of Hector's tent. The lord's loud snoring was audible even from here. Raven slipped in, sword silently drawn in his right hand. Now was the moment, the time to avenge his family, his friends, his city.
As Karla walked through the shadows, she heard the wash of the leaves over, the crunch of twigs below her feet. All the while, she looked out for signs of another human in the vicinity.
He gave no warning. Suddenly, a blur shot down from the branches and caught her around the neck. Karla blinked, heart pumping crazily, as she saw the face of the one she had sought—hardened by cruelty, but still carrying some of the familiar features it had held in the past.
"You're here…finally. I wondered if you would be brave enough. You are strong, and I long to test you myself, with my own blade."
"Karel…all I've wanted…all my life, is to see you face to face, once more. Take me now; I have all I have ever wanted." A pang shot through her heart. Except for love.
Karel smiled. "Oh, without a fight? I would have preferred to see your skill." He let go, and Karla stood, nerves not ceasing, knowing, ready for the moment that her life would end. He lost his smile. "Fight me."
Reluctantly, the swordswoman drew her sword Wo Dao, grip shaking. "But…you must be victorious, promise me that."
"Well, but of course. You didn't have to ask."
Raven's mind was whirling. At the last moment, at what should be the moment of victory, he suddenly felt uncertain. Why? Why did he fear to do what he had always wanted to do?
His hand was shaking, the sword refusing to enter Hector's chest and end his heartbeat, no matter how hard his mind persuaded it to. Again he asked, why do I fear to do this? Is it because of…her?
Karla. Her face ran through his mind again, and he thought of what she had taught him. He realized, in those moments, that this was wrong.
Let this be the right choice…
And he turned, sheathed his sword. Treachery was ringing in his ears. And he ran, ran deep into the consuming darkness of the forest.
Once more, he asked himself the same question, leaning on the trunk of a tree.
"WHY?!"He didn't care if the entire army heard him and woke up. He had wanted to kill Hector all his life. He could have ended Ostia's line of heirs, done to Ostia what they deserved. He had had his chance, and he had thrown it aside. What would the rest of his family think of him? Unforgivable, he knew. And it had all been because of a girl who was already dead…
Already dead. Suddenly, he remembered, and tears filled his eyes, tears he had never shed for years. Raven's life had lost all meaning, from the moment Karla had walked away into the forest, without hearing his confession. Now, he had truly no purpose. Why should he keep living, if everything had gone wrong for him?
Blood roaring in his ears, he pulled the sword from its sheath, its blade clean. It would taste blood today. But not the blood of his enemy; the blood of someone just as deserving.
Karla had fallen to the ground, battered and accepting defeat. Her brother had grown too good, even for her. She closed her eyes, ready for the final blow that would steal her last breath and plunge her into the darkness. She was ready for the burst of pain, for the touch of tearing metal—
It never came. She glanced up, suddenly curious. Karel stood there, emotions warring in his expression, in his eyes. His own sword was not moving.
"Karla…I can't do this to you. I don't want to hurt you. Run from me, before I do anything!"
She breathed in, suddenly aware that she had a chance to escape with her life. Then she realized that in leaving, she was only prolonging the wait. Someday, they would face each other again. But for now, this was enough.
A shout from a familiar voice shook the leaves. "Raven!" she gasped to herself, and fearing for what had happened to him, she took off in his direction.
"No! Don't do it, Raven!" Karla screamed suddenly, seeing the position he was in. He had the sword pointed to his chest, and a look of painful submission in his eyes. He glanced up momentarily and blinked.
"You're…here? Am I dead already?"
"No," she answered quickly, knocking the sword from his hand. "Are you mad?"
"I deserve whatever I do," he growled back, seemingly beyond talking out of it. "I failed. I didn't kill him. I am useless!"
Karla took in what he had just said and knelt beside him. "You—you don't have to do it," she said desperately, heart wrenched by his guilt, by his anger at himself. "Hector isn't your enemy, don't you see? He never did anything. You can't—kill yourself over the fact that you didn't kill him—it was the right thing to do."
"Oh, really? How do you know it was the right thing to do? My life has no purpose anyway. I told you, all I've ever lived for since that day is Hector's death and Ostia's ruin. And because of—because of you, I didn't dare to do it! Why should you care what I do to myself?"
He reached for the sword again, eyes dry and wide. It glimmered in the dim moonlight sifting through the treetops, as it came closer to his heart, to pierce it for once and for all.
"No," she breathed, head spinning. No, she didn't want Raven to kill himself. She loved him. How could she make him understand?
Doing all she could think to do, Karla took hold of the sword, and using the great weapon's weight, managed to tip it out of his had once more. He glared down at it, then at her. "What's your problem? Why won't you let me die?" His shouts shook her nerves, but she faced him bravely.
"I'll never let you die, Raven! You mean too much to me. I—" She looked away for the first time in their jarring conversation. "I really—love you. I—I don't understand it either!" She stood and stepped backwards, shaking with terror, tears already pouring out of her eyes. "No one's cared about me before. But you did…and I—"
He was standing now, just as shocked as she was at her own admission. Moments later, she found herself in his embrace. "No, I don't mind at all," Raven replied, al trace of his former fierceness and apparent hate gone. "I love you, too."
With those words, Karla felt her limbs go weak with emotion and surprise, and she, half fainting, sat down upon the ground, the Hero following after, smiling for the first time she had ever seen. "You were right about Hector," he went on. "I should have realised long ago…but you helped me realise." He paused and turned to her. "Thanks, so much."
Raven turned to look at the swordmaster, to see her sleepy gaze meet his. In a few instants, her eyelids drooped shut, and she was fast asleep. He had never felt so happy before, sitting here next to Karla. Who cared about what was going to happen the next day? He didn't really care now, as he slowly fell asleep as well.
The next day dawned. Raven was walking around in the dewy air of the early morning, looking for Lucius. The monk sat at the fire site, eating his breakfast. There they waited for the rest of the army to arrive.
"You seem a lot less troubled than you did yesterday, Lord Raymond," Lucius commented. Raven smiled.
"Yes, of course," he replied simply. "I've finally gotten over something that has been plaguing me for years."
During breakfast, Raven met Hector by chance. "Morning, Lord Hector," he said. The Ostian lord turned in surprise and returned the greeting. "I'm sorry about holding you responsible for what your brother did…I hope you'll accept my apology."
Hector grinned. "No need," he answered cheerily. "My brother has always been too serious about anti-corruption for his own good. Was, I mean."
For some reason, he didn't look too upset about his brother's death, the Hero noted wryly.
The members began leaving after breakfast. Many said their last goodbyes as they parted and left on their separate roads home, some breaking into tears, some going wordlessly. Raven finally found Karla watching the sky close to the forest, and he called her back to where Lucius and Priscilla sat on the logs, Raven's sister in endless tears.
"Let's go now," he said, and Lucius stood, assisting a tearful Priscilla. She mounted, and the others began to walk towards the main road to the port of Valor Isle.
Raven turned. "Karla?"
She was lingering shyly behind, unsure of what to do. Raven called out her name again. "It's fine! Just come on here!" He held out his hand, hoping to make her feel more secure. She took hold of it, and a little more confidently, she headed down the road, after Lucius and Priscilla.
In his life, Raven had had so many blessings, so man curses. But one had helped him make sense of it all, and finally see, for the first time, where he stood. Perhaps his life would make a turn for the better, with her around—who knew? I've never met anyone more amazing in my life, he thought as they headed down the road to Araphen, their home, which would be different from now onwards.
Perhaps, someday, they would rebuild Cornwell?
Heh. I'm not sure about the usage of the word "love" here. But the point is that it goes a lot deeper than infatuation, so I could only find that one word for it.
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