Old, Dim Light
by SMYGO4EVA
It was better this way.
There was no shadow of a doubt they were enemies, those who were reborn Ruler and Saber. As long as the conflict had existed, they were bound to do battle, to reignite what hatred and passions had fueled the flame. One thought that it was destiny to die a second death, while the other would be forever young, impossible to kill.
Ruler, or Jeanne D'arc, could easily have made peace with herself, to save herself, but she knew she was needed, she knew she was to fight. With one simple confession, she didn't have to fear death in the first place. She refrained nonetheless. She burned for what felt like eons, only to fight and burn again. She knew what it was like to suffer and to still stand her ground.
Saber of Red was too proud to admit that she hid more, that she felt more than she cared to admit. She had worthy opponents, only those who could push her to the edge, to prove she was strong, that she could prove herself more than human. There were none so damaged or frightened as herself, and she knew that.
They fought. They tore the fear and regret from the blood running through their veins, to the end, whether it was for their own means to an end, or a higher purpose.
Though they knew they were living on borrowed, no, stolen time, Jeanne was aware. Deep down, Mordred felt it too. She felt it in her bones.
Their words were as clear as crystal as soon as they were uttered. Whatever lay ahead, locking blades and their ultimate weapons, to reach their shared dream, they would go from there, far from the old, dim light.