Arms reached for help, for hope, as Nyteri drifted along the dead her sword still unsheathed, dripping the poisoned blood of her enemies. She searched for one and one only. Her faith forced her to believe that now he was stepping away, stepping from life.
With every sting of her own injuries she quickened her pace, her panic rising with more familiar moans of the suffering. These were the men she had fought to gain alliance with. The men who had once laughed in the bars and drank in her honor when finally she could lift a blade in this war; the men who lay still now, dying. Nyteri's boots sank in the mud as she came to alarming stop.
Still, her breath hastened as she gripped the slick metal against her side. A harsh wince wrung from her very soul echoed out on the silent area as she fell to her knees. Steel armor clanged together as she forced it off. No air seemed to pass through her lips.
The pain slowly ebbed away but still she remained crouched to the ground. Warmth filled her giving feeling that awoken the depth of her own wounds. She violently vomited coking on breath she tried to cling to.
Morning light broke the dense clouds above, but did not offer any hope to the young warrior. Weakly she came to her feet once more and looked across the sea of dead soldiers. The giver of the warmth laid a hand on her shoulder, but Nyteri was too weak to respond to her panic. The young warrior's eyes were wild as she turned to see her friend Morrigan with just as much blood on her as the ground before them.
"Alistair…" Nyteri's mystical voice rang in the quiet air.
The once Witch of the Wilds only shook her head softly, her pixie cut hair matted with the tainted blood of Darkspawn and Maker knows what else. With a tight jaw Nyteri took a step forward from Morrigan's gentle grip, pain ripping through her body.
"'Tis not a good idea to travel further with your injuries." Morrigan spoke calmly but her concern showed even with what little she was capable of.
"I need to find him." Nyteri forced herself into command again.
With a sigh of regret Morrigan let her go on, keeping her distance but remaining close enough to the Grey Warden for possibly the last time. The cries of the dying waned off slowly as the men who created them slipped from the world. In her heart, Nyteri granted them a prayer to the Creators that these good souls would be forgiven for they had fought their Sins today.
Just off to her left was a shuffle of movement within the rubble of a fallen catapult. The rustling grew louder and with the movement of wood and exposing of what appeared to be a body; Nyteri's weariness vanished with a pump of adrenaline. In an instant her sword was drawn and the glow of magical energy casted her shadow on the being forming from the destruction.
It was with great relief and a sarcastic comment that Nyteri lowered her blade from the throat of her assassin companion. Her small smirk of a smile had no joy but it was a natural reaction around her fellow elf.
"Well haven't we made quite a mess?" Zeveran joked sheathing his blades onto his back. He groaned lightly from the ache of his pulled muscles.
Nyteri only lightly nodded her vision blurring, the adrenaline taking all her strength as it dissipated. She turned once to look for her beloved, her being ached for him. Her heart burned for him presence, but her soul needed his life. Her knees gave out and she thought she heard his voice…
It felt as if she were only fooling herself. Figures moved before her, above her, as she lay dazed, broken, confused…on the hard bloody grave for the many this land thrived with. Her mind urged for her to lift her hand but her body would not comply. The world swirled around her and numbly she gripping her wounded side moaning against pain that wasn't there.
"Morrigan can't do anything." A male voice cracked with emotion as her sank to his knees beside Nyteri.
"The mage left only seconds ago." A large inhuman man spoke a yard away.
A groan escaped her lips once more as she came to the cruel understanding of whose arms she laid in.
"Shh…" Alistair cooed to her, his lips brushed her temple, "It's alright. You're going to…going to be…"
The groan came from him this time, the pain of a broken heart coming down in loads onto his shoulders. Like gentle rain, teardrops dripped down onto Nyteri's forehead, running down her cheek along with her own fresh tears. She slowly regained her sight and her arm followed her commands. She cared little of those who surrounded; she only cared for the strong man who looked at her with such pain.
Her fingers brushed his cheek, stopping the stream of tears, "Don't cry for me…" she moaned to halt the urge to scream, her voice spoke roughly, "I don't want you to cry, Alistair."
His response was oddly violence. Alistair closed his eyes and shook his head with a voice the strained the cuts along his collarbone from his bloody armor. "I…can't." he choked, "I can't lose…you."
Nyteri smiled and pulled his face gently towards hers, the bridge of his nose against her cheekbone. The pain faded her body. It was time.
She spoke softly against his lips, "You never will, Alistair. You never will… I love you Alistair…I…"
Silent mournful tears fell from his eyes, sliding down her peaceful face. She slipped with her words on his lips. His breath taking her final.