AUTHOR'S NOTE: Chapter four of In the Abyss, "Remember Me." This entire chapter is virtually a flashback, so sit tight and remember to look elsewhere from the screen or your vision will be slanted (my eyes are aching). Anyways, I hope you enjoyed! I don't know if I should continue or not because of lack of reviews for a story nearly 10,000 words long, but I'll finish this chapter at least.

Write on,

Cranberry Knight-XIII

.:IN THE ABYSS:.

Chapter 4 – Remember Me

I awake from my memories of the past seven years as the sounds of bombs going off in the distance reach my ears, though muffled like an explosion underwater. Screams promptly follow, piercing the night as sirens go off in the general direction of the district slums. I vaguely wonder what could have happened in my absence. Nonetheless, I remain where I am seated, drifting back into the past.

I know these next memories are painful, but I have to endure them.

Any guidance will help me if I really am to leave my empire. I will need to make a decision by nightfall if I am to travel in the darkness, my best cover.

And so I close my eyes again.

I'm taken back to two years ago after Aulstyne had scoured long and hard and discovered us two, ordering an elite band of soldiers to take us out swiftly and silently.

["The Scavenger's Camp" – Tomb Raider 2013]

"We need to leave. Now," Rokuro panted as he burst through the door with his bow still gripped firmly in his hand. His eyes were bright as always, yet guarded something behind them.

I had been sharpening my hidden blades when he entered, still angry with him about refusing to allow me to accompany him on his outings. I stood quickly, retreating the blades inside their braces once more.

"What? Why?" I said, confused.

He spoke to me as he began to gather our things, food and extra weapons, his speed simply a blur. "They're coming, Crona. We can't let them trap us here…we'll head for the woods and stay there until the coast is clear. Maybe even move out of Milites…"

Following his lead I gathered all the supplies we could store under our hooded cloaks: three canteens of water, and various foods. It could last us a few days if we rationed, Rokuro said under muffled breaths. I used a leather strap and fixed a small dagger into the inside of my boot, and Rokuro did the same. His longsword rested in its sheath at his side and his bow over his shoulder.

Shouts came from a block away, and we were on the move, sprinting in between shadows of buildings. All that remained between us and freedom was a long road, one end leading to the gate out of the empire, and the other into the 13th district of Milites, where we had lived.

I called to Rokuro, our heads low beneath our hoods. "We can come through here," I whispered, and he nodded.

A dark alleyway separating a closed-down weaponsmith story and armory gave us cover and we sprinted, our feet hardly making a noise.

I thought we had made it out safely. We had reached the outskirts when I spotted a sniper at the same time he saw us. Our eyes connected, and for a brief moment, I saw pity in his eyes…regret. I halted and so did Rokuro. It was a stupid thing to do. The sniper leveled his rifle to his shoulder and took aim. For a brief second I thought this was what it was like to die, but whether by the faltering aim of that marksman or regret, he didn't go for my head.

Instead, I felt a bullet rip through my shoulder, ricocheting inside until it exited through the front of my body once more, tearing through nerves and muscles. I couldn't help it – a shriek escaped my mouth as I leaned over, clutching my limp shoulder in pain. Rokuro whirled around and was shocked to see the mess my shoulder was, anger lighting in his eyes.

"Rokuro…up there!" I panted, nodding my head towards the sniper's position.

He took a stance in front of me, shielding me with his body…and his life. At the same moment that my brother let an arrow fly, the sniper unloaded another bullet, but this one was aimed for Rokuro. Still hefting his mahogany bow in the air, the bullet clipped his side and entered into my thigh. I could feel bones grating as the bullet dug further, but it moved no more. I fell to one knee, gritting my teeth and exhaling heavily. The blood that spurted from Rokuro's side dotted my face, but it was nothing compared to the blood that leaked out of my leg and shoulder. The sniper fell from the roof, but we didn't stop to inspect.

Despite his own injury, Rokuro immediately threw my arm over his shoulder, shielding me from any more attacks.

"Hang on, Crona, we're almost there."

"Damn this hurts," I said through closed eyes as we stumbled into the woods. Rokuro clenched his jaw; I never complained about an injury, and when I did, he knew it was serious.

He set me against a rock and I slid to the ground, feeling faint from loss of blood. My fingers shook as I cut a piece of my shirt with my hidden blade. I tried to concentrate, but my vision became blurrier and the cloth was slippery with blood.

Suddenly firm hands closed over mine and Rokuro bandaged just above the wound to cut off any more blood loss. There wasn't much we could do about the shoulder, but Rokuro pressed his hand firmly against the wound. Feeling was lost in my leg and I could hardly see through the blood and the searing pain that had exploded in my injuries.

Weakly I raised a hand to stem the flow of blood on Rokuro's side, but he simply grasped it and clasped it firmly.

"You're…hurt…" I murmured, trying to make out his face through the distorted vision that fogged my eyes.

"It's nothing," he snapped.

A sudden burst of shouting began to come closer and closer from the district, nearing the edge of the forest. Rokuro's eyes widened; how had they tracked us here?

Although I could hardly see, I knew Rokuro well enough to sense his change of posture and how he grew tenser. His plan was a dead giveaway the moment he glanced up at me and placed my hands over my shoulder wound.

"What are…you doing?"

He dipped his head.

"I'm going to make sure those bastards never do this again," he replied, steel in his voice. He meant it.

I believed in Rokuro's power and strength, but we both knew he couldn't take down a group of soldiers with snipers surrounding him. The idea was stupidity.

I attempted to push myself up, unlocking my blades. I would never abandon my brother in battle, no matter what the condition I found myself in.

He gently pushed me back and instead took my face in his hands, his own just inches away. For a few seconds my vision cleared enough to catch the last glimpse of his intelligent eyes, and then he pressed his lips firmly against mine, pouring every ounce of trust and friendship into that one touch. I could do nothing but sit and wait as what seemed to be an eternity passed. A sad smile reached his lips as he stood up, casting his bow to my side, the bow that was every bit a part of him as his own heart.

But my head had fallen to the side slightly, even as I tried to look at him, trying to move.

"I've always wanted to do that," he said regretfully as he backed away. "Don't ever stop fighting, Crona."

This can't be it. It can't be.

My weak arm lifted as I tried to reach out for him, to hold him tight once more. This wasn't fair…this couldn't be happening. I strained against the black spots clouding my vision, the weakness making my hands shake. I couldn't die. Not there, now now, not ever. Now when Rokuro needed me so.

Damnit, Crona, rise! Stand on your feet! Rise!

"Please…Rokuro," I whispered, but collapsed into the grass.

And then he was gone.

Many painful seconds later I heard the sounds of gunshots and screams. Slaughter. Murder. Death.

I couldn't bear it. I would rather have faced an entire wall of bullets tearing through me than be forced to listen to that torture, tears running silently through the mix of blood on my foul cloak.

Goddess, if you haven't heard my pleas before, hear me now.

Let this be my final breath, I beg you.

I passed out for hours, yet when I awoke two days later to find myself alive, a part of me died back in that clearing. Indeed, maybe I had lost part of myself there, in the grasses stained with my and Rokuro's blood.

I crawled out of that forest, holding my shoulder with a bloodied cloth. My head, shoulder, and leg still throbbed painfully, but I was going to live. As I emerged out of the forest, my eyes immediately fell on the paved road and I stumbled forward, falling to my knees besides two familiar pieces of steel.

Rokuro's beautiful sword.

The hilt was stained red, the blade cleaved in two. Shells were scattered everywhere.

I held them to my chest, fighting the tears.

They came anyway. I sobbed, more than I ever had before. More than I ever will.

I opened my eyes and finally surveyed the area around me. The road was stained a permanent red, a fan of it spreading everywhere, glistening in the early morning sunset beneath my boots. I simply stared in shock until the realization settled in. I could do nothing but bend over and slam my fists on the ground, sobs racking my body as I screamed in anguish, anger blinding me. By the time I straightened there were no tears left.

I wanted to kill, wanted revenge, wanted to take back what had been ripped from my grasp. The pain wouldn't leave, like a constant thunder in my mind, reminding me of him. Rokuro's face flashing through my mind, the feel of his hands guiding mine as he taught me how to string an arrow for the first time, his smile when he introduced me to him. His blood on the streets, happy memories shattered in an instant, the bullet shredding through the two of us, delirious.

My thoughts were erratic, not my own. I knew I wasn't thinking straight, but I did not care. After swiping a few vials of Potions from a merchant, I made my way into the heart of Cid Aulstyne's camp for stationed city guards and the like. I knew Aulstyne had sent soldiers from there, and if I wanted to find who had killed Rokuro, my best bet lay in enemy territory. I wondered if it was what Rokuro would want me to do, to kill in his name.

My wounds were healed, yet I would have two small scars on my shoulder and thigh, forever. As I perched on a clock tower, gazing out above Milites, I wondered if Rokuro was watching over me. I would do him justice. Three hours had passed since I had woken up. Awoken to a world now blackened by darkness, a world without a friend, a world of death.

Truly, I lived in the abyss.

It was during the following night that I realized I remembered Rokuro. Everything about him, I remembered.

I had been lying in the clearing once again, unwilling to leave the only safe haven in the entire country. Though Rokuro was gone, I had ears everywhere, and soon learned after emerging from my stupor that our home had been burned to the ground, reduced to a pile of ashes. I felt a pang of loss, but it faded quickly. I was never suited to stay in one place for long.

Just as I had nearly fallen asleep, Rokuro's face flashed behind my eyelids, and my eyes shot open in surprise. It shouldn't have happened. I shouldn't have remembered him. It was in everyone's blood in Orience. No one remembered a person's death. The elderly were forgotten, lest they be written about. Nothing about the past was set in stone, for no one remembered those who had died.

"Rokuro..." I breathed his name, sitting up quickly and holding my hands to my head, pushing my hood back. Dark hair fell in my eyes. "Why does your memory remain?"

I wanted an answer, to hear Rokuro's laugh as he patted me on the back and told me I was crazy.

Nothing.

Even when I had killed Milites soldiers, I didn't remember their individual faces, only numbers. How many I'd killed. Their names? Not important. Rank? Irrelevant. Rokuro had been the same way, and only until that night did I realize I was cursed.

It was a both a blessing and a curse to remember Rokuro's name, who he was. For months and years I relived that night, over and over again. I did not know why I was able to remember his death, but it haunted me, still haunts me.

And to think, before everything, we had lived a relatively peaceful life. I remember the day Rokuro found me, nearly caught for thievery. He had taken me in, given me a home, something I never imagined could feel so wonderful.

Then Aulstyne came, sending his magitek soldiers into the very corners of our Empire, preparing for an international world. This we knew. We represented a threat, a chance of rebellion. So we were to be extinguished. Aulstyne succeeded in taking out Rokuro, but I swore he would never catch me. Byakko crystal was no longer a symbol of strength and might; instead, tyranny and dictatorship replaced it.

I have been stripped of almost any sign of life, this I know. I am Crona, but at the same time, I am not the Crona I was named for.

I kill to live on with Rokuro's memory and survive, but for what? What reason have I to stay here, wallowing in memories and darkness? What stops me from moving on? To the glory of Rubrum, pride of Concordia, steel of Lorica?

The question lingered in my mind for eons, years.

Now, I think, I've found the answer.

Rokuro knew it all along, and I know what I must do...I will follow the path that he has set for me, the path that has been waiting for me to ascend it for many years.

I will travel into the fiery heart of the Suzaku Fiefdom of Rubrum, the land of powerful magic and strength, and I will fight alongside the people of Rubrum, retaliate against Aulstyne and rip the false rule from his spoilt hands until the world is rained upon by the cremated ashes of his body.

It has been many years since my eyes, a dark brown and crimson color, have alighted with such excitement and anticipation as they do now, my blood courses thick and strong through my body.

Crona has returned.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Things probably dipped into the clichéd a tiny bit, but I just wanted to get the damn thing done, since it's been sitting in Word since 2012, holy crap. Enjoy or not, feel free to review! Not sure if I'll continue (are people oppose to OCs, lol?) but we'll see. I have the entirety of the plot already sorted out, so it'd be a shame to stop now.

And no, I will not be removing the music recommendations. They're minimal and always beneath the spacing line-thingys, and I didn't put them in bold. Really, they're not all that distracting, as I've asked a few of my followers. Don't like, don't read, that's all I can say, sorry!

-Cranberry Knight-XIII