Polka massaged a small pulse of power deep into her lungs, easing the painful pressure coiling deep within it. She breathed a sigh in relief when it retreated, an uncomfortable heat in her chest. She almost hadn't expected it to work. Most days it didn't. As the source of her magic, it was naturally very resistant to it. Every day now, she could feel her magical power strengthen as the contagion's hold on her did, but so, too, did her power to hold it at bay weaken, doing less and less to hold back the pain. She feared the day when it would do nothing at all, for that would mean that her death was fast approaching.
If she wished to, she could use her magic to see inside herself to the heart of the unnaturalness inside of her, and watch its tentacles writhe in her lungs, killing her by slow degrees to feed the ball of white-hot magic at its core. She never did. It was enough to know that she was dying. She didn't need to know the details.
As frightening as the darkness was, however, what she most feared was that knot of light coiled in amongst the darkness. It seemed an abomination, feeding on the life-giving energies the disease gave it, just as the darkness fed on it, a ruinous cycle that could only end in her death. She couldn't help but think of it with a horror that bordered on revulsion, wondering what would happen to it upon her death. Will it burst out of me like one of the demons in the sea of lava beneath our feet? She wondered feverishly. Her breath sped up. What would she give birth to, in the end? A ball or pure magic, neither white nor black, that would kill, and kill, and kill, until there was nothing left except a world of the dead-alive, pitiful creatures that would die drowning in their own blood. Like she would.
She'd tried to heal it completely once, as a child; her powers hadn't matured yet, but they had had their greatest strength over her killer back then, and she'd thought that it might work. The effort involved had nearly killed her anyway.
The contagion curled restlessly under her fingertips, as if awoken by her dark thoughts, and sent out a snarl of pain that made her stagger, gasping in pain with breaths that crackled wetly in her chest. Then it was gone again, leaving her alone in her own thoughts.
She took her hand away even as another, long-fingered hand settled on her shoulder, and looked up at Frederick Chopin's face, startled. He had lines beneath his eyes that he hadn't before, she noticed, and no wonder. He was running himself ragged. It was hard enough keeping watch of his own safety, let alone that of children, as well, even children such as these, who had seen too much and gone too far to really be children anymore. She didn't count herself in their number. She had never really been a child. "Are you alright, Polka? You seem distracted." In pain, was what he meant. He was intimately familiar with the dark beast that lurked inside her, killing her by degrees. He had fought with it before, and lost.
Polka smiled slightly, and averted her eyes to the roiling sea of flame just beyond the edge of the stone bridge. Father was down there somewhere. "No, I'm fine, thank you Frederick. I was just thinking."
She could feel the frown-line crease the clean lines of his mouth. He was going to say something -argue with her, perhaps- but he backed off, as he always did, shaking his head a small sigh. She felt moderately guilty about doing this to him, but it was the only thing she knew how to do. She was not especial strong like Alegretto and the others, even in magic. All she had was her death, and she would use it to lighten her special someone's burdens, not add to them. It was hers to bear.
--
What to say about Eternal Sonata… Cute game, very cute, but not terribly deep. If you're looking for memorable characters and fantabulous plots, cast your gaze elsewhere -I like my games to have meat on their bones, gorramit!- but if you're looking for a quick round of Final Fantasy for n00bs, well, you're in the right place. Still, it made up for it with character designs and sheer WTF-ness at times. A tie-dye keep? Seriously?