Velvet felt something warm hugging her chest. It felt like an eternity since she woke up. Liking being lost in memory. Her senses returned, feeling about. Loving wraps curled around her body, around her shoulders and her hips, spreading warmth about her body. It was a hug unlike before. Not like Laphicet's brotherly love. It was embracing, cool and tempered like a cool summer's breeze. A hint of rosy meadows wavered and trickled down her nose, peaking her to take another sniff.
And there it was again. Like pitter-patter of water splashing down a river, or the wild-flowers of the forest in full bloom, Velvet wanted it to herself. Her eyes flickered with life, gazing down as its source.
Curled up, hugging closely, just underneath the bedsheets, was Eleanor.
Unlike the stern, reserved and heroic mask she wore, she was calm. At peace. Her hardened expressions faded away, leaving nothing more than a young maiden. It was unlike her soldier expression, a delicate young woman, etched by the hardships she endured and lived through. She was, in Rokurou's own words, a blade not only tough, but flexible.
Velvet paid the scar across her chest no mind. They've talked about it earlier. It was a part of her, a memory of something that made her, her. Just like her own daemon arm. Opening the sheets a little, she gazed at her arm. Still wrapped in its bandages, seething bits of power. More importantly was yesterday's mishap. Gone, as if it never existed.
The Lord of Calamity breathed, pondering the consequence of yesterday. Her hand brushed down the naked Exorcist's body, stirring her. Her hand pawed just below her stomach. It felt warm, but it was no doubt just her love's warmth.
Thoughts all alone, the therion had her doubts. Not of love, but of her revenge. Pay it no mind, this was not backing down from it. The man known as Arthur, her brother-in-law, was killed three years. The Shephard, the man who replaced him as Lord Artorius, was nothing more than the shell of a title of a shell of a man, to be slain by the hands of the Lord of Calamity.
But beyond that… The knowledge imparted by them at the Heavenly Steppes, by the malakhim who watched and waited as the world changed and betrayed her trust. Brunt as she may be, Velvet felt what the malak felt. This world, was polluted by malevolence.
"Malakhim, humans, daemons, dragons and malevolence." Velvet whispered. These curses, brought upon a sect of beings that could not and now would not understand living with their kind. No, Eleanor's kind.
And in return, they sealed their home from the traitors and forsake a curse. One that would breed malevolence in the form of daemons and one that would consume all in the form of dragons. A never-ending spiral of fate, all stopped by Innominat and the Four Elemental Empyreans. But, what Zui Fuu said… Thousands of years without nothing to bear.
Eleanor moaned, pulling herself closer against her naked body. Even in a resting state, she felt the slightest movements. Her hand shifted, finally resting on her butt. Velvet held her breath. Was it conscious? Was it just something she wanted? Questions revolved around, twisting, and turning like a whirlpool before her love's eyes flickered.
"Good morning…" The redhead yawned, arms pulling away for a moment before resting where they were. Her eyes focused. Resting just in Velvet's bosom. And yet, she gave a small smile, radiant as the sun itself. "That was something last night huh?"
"Y-yeah…" Velvet didn't know how to respond. It was something neither of them knew, huddled under the sheets. She held her arms around Eleanor, eyes staring into the distance.
"Velvet? Is there something the matter?"
"Just thinking about what Zui Fuu told us at the Heavenly Steppes."
"I didn't think you'd be hanging up on that." She raised an eyebrow. Her mask was slowly piecing itself together like a veil.
"I gave it some bigger thought." She pulled herself up from the sheets. Eleanor did the same, leaning on her shoulder.
"I… I just don't know what else will happen."
She felt there was something else. Something that she was hiding from her. What was she getting at?
"What do you mean?" She asked.
"I… really don't know. Brooding for three years, experiencing all the things that happened on our journey. Our mistakes, our tragedies. Our triumphs, and victories. All that time, I've been certain. I called you up last night not just in case something happens to me but the first time in such a long time, I never thought I'd feel something like that ever again…
"I'm scared.
"I'm afraid of what'll happen next. Even if we seal Innominat, when we kill Artorius, even if the Elemental Empyreans are awake, what… what will I do afterwards?"
Eleanor slumped. She was right. Just as many people had, it was always the immediate future, one easily grasped by their hands. But she was still so keen on revenge. On stopping the end of free will. From being stripped of a happy life.
Where does hatred go when it is done?
Velvet turned to Eleanor. Her hardened eyes watered, wavering like grass in the breeze.
"Nobody can ever know the truth. Nobody will ever know the truth. The traitorous Exorcist will be redeemed, slaying the Lord of Calamity… And then… And then she'll…"
Nothing permeated the room but the splashing of water. Her words lost like dust washed off the deck. Like an orchestra waiting for their conductor to rise, they never said a thing. Mutual understanding was their memo, trusting one to the other. Their feelings reached deeper. They were in love. A brief reprise for their dearly beloved.
Yet, the Exorcist combed her hand through Velvet's tangled hair, hugging tighter all the same. Naked, exposed, vulnerable, weak. In the end, humans and daemons were just that.
"You don't need to worry." Eleanor finally whispered. Her lips only a breath's away from hers. "Don't talk as if you're not going to make it. We've travelled from one side of the known world to the other. All these titles forced on us… I don't care for a single word of that. I guess I learned to be selfish.
I don't care for Shephards, daemon lords, hellions, or dragons. All that can fly far, far away. The thing that matters here, right now, is the girl I love. The one person who's oath helped me see. That let me grow. You, Velvet Crowe."
They kissed, tugging, and pulling as they had last night. The same passion, the same fervor, the same carelessness as they sunk into the bed. Raspy breath passed, hushed by sniffles and creaking.
And through a small peep hole in the door was the green eyes of a malak. Precious, innocent, and hopeful. His face was glowed pure red coals, seeing the events displayed before his eyes. He turned away from the view, leaning against the door. While he held his breath, he knew. He knew the burden that Velvet gave to them. Whether she'd make it or not, maybe she's just negative. They were connected to Innominat. Maybe, just maybe, there was small lining in all of this.
"This is where you were Eleanor." Laphicet whispered. Even embarrassed, he perked a smile nodding happily. "We will Velvet. We both will. This silver flame may falter, it may waver. But shall never go out."
-.-.-
This is how it feels to be Lord Artorius Colbrande at the end of his life.
Your senses peel back at reality, stripping away the fog of pain and soot. The last events replay in your mind. You unleashed the despair in your heart, armatizing with Innominat before engaging your sister-in-law and her band of renegades.
Despite the reach, despite the power, despite all the advantages you obtained, Velvet managed the impossible, biting the Empyrean out of your body and stabbing your body into the ground below.
Your lungs burn hotter than the magma of far off lands, and your heart is crushed, figuratively and physically. They say that at the end of your life, your memories flash before your eyes.
The one thing that pins you down is 'Where did it go wrong?'
The days of training with King Claudin flow in. The Mayvin clan always stood by his side, the right hand of his duties. But even so, they were burdened with heavy tasks. Tasks that were too large for any one man to tackle on his own. But between the daily lessons and magics taught, you always had questions. Questions about the nature of things and how they simply are.
'Master,' You asked, 'If the curse of Malevolence is so eternal, why do humans fight against it?'
He'd turn and said, 'That is only for the perspective on those that look down upon others. Humans are very stubborn people indeed. For such a curse to ever be broken, a miracle should occur.'
A miracle. Miracles brought about by human hands. People need guidance.
For as long as King Claudin fought, he saw the many follies of humanity. War being the major one. For in return of hurt, they hurt back. It is an endless cycle of pain and killing, only broken by the lucky few. Sometimes those few were strengthened by the malevolence that humanity was cursed with.
These thoughts, these dreams only lasted for little time.
King Claudin sacrificed himself. So that you may live. As he laid dying in your arms, he still smiled. 'Carry not the tears on your face Artorius…' he breathed one last time, 'Hope is eternal'.
You cried. You wished against the world to bring him back. Through the flames of destruction, through despair, you wandered from land to land, eyes down and dried of tears that fell like a hurricane's rain. You could never be like King Claudin, you couldn't even be half the man he is. It drilled into you, biting harder and harder each day, almost to the point your bones snapped. It was the end…
Until at last, you found the end of the storm.
Celicia Crowe.
From despair, she carried you up. Rebuild your faith. Showed you a new light. Life sparked in your eyes. Little Velvet and Laphicet Crowe, two spitfires that exploded in such a small village. To think that something so small would exist.
This was a little patch of paradise, away from duty. Your duty.
But such things could not wait. Could not escape.
Just as life gave you hope, it easily took it away. You remember the cold, blank stares of Celicia's reincarnated malak self. The same emotionless expression from your unborn son reincarnated.
You were betrayed. That was what you were told.
And in your hate, in your rage, in your heart, something grew. A seed of doubt that laid buried under the warmth and smiles and love given to you. The dark returned, binding you.
Fate does not care for you. Fulfill your duty as Exorcist, as King Claudin's successor.
There is no other way. There is no other way.
But the pain. Yes, the pain.
Malevolence is a poison to humans and malakhim alike. Digs deeper than any blade, hotter than the sun, and quicker than a hurricane, it breeds within you. Hours, sometimes half days spent, loosening that strain. Those daggers digging deeper still. A single moment, and you'd rage against the world, its people, your remaining family.
Yes, that's right. If there was something, if armatization worked, maybe… just maybe… the pain would go away.
Yes… To pull yourself from the equation. No attachments, no fears, only necessity.
For them. For you. For yourself.
In the shadows of your eyes, figures finally form. A sword impaled through your chest. Velvet standing just above you, holding on that cursed blade. The rest of her entourage at the ready, surrounding Innominat. Surrounding Laphicet Crow…
No, you dare not think of that name. You've lost that right years ago. Memories and dreams, it does not share the same warmth or kindness or… or family.
What feels like an eternity blazes together in one moment of clarity.
Claudin loved humanity and the malak.
Even if an ideal is correct in principle, people cannot be forced to follow it.
For all its wrongs, for all its evil, for all its damnable, destructive, immature, self-centered self… He cared more for them than anybody else could. In all its horrid acts, and all its ruinous powers… They had managed to return. That was humanity's greatest strength.
A strength that few malak could see.
Welling up the last bits of your strength, your lips quiver, shaking with your last few words.
"On that day… Of the Opening… Velvet, the Arthur you knew died that day… It was always there, in the back of my mind. 'If it hadn't been Celicia and my son who were killed that day. If only it had been you two that day…'"
Her eyes soften. Her grip loosened. Those same kind sisterly eyes she had the morning before the Scarlet Night.
"… I thought the same thing. So many times, if it had been us instead then I know… You… I know you would've fought to save the world for us."
"I know… I wanted to save everybody…"
You shake your head as you speak. Yet another lie. One last lie that you bare.
Even if the events were reversed, you'd still blame yourself for their deaths. Melchior would've told you the same.
Would it be any different if Velvet was Seres and Laphicet as Number Two?
… What would Celicia think?
In the end, you realize it all at the end. The words you spoke at the castle that day weren't for them.
It was for yourself.
It had always been about yourself.
It was an ideal you pushed. It was an ideal you pursued, it was an ideal you grasped, held on for closest time… And in that ideal, you forgot about yourself.
The equation of life… Cannot exist without you.
You forgotten about the people around, the family you had, the chance you could've done, to run away from it all, to teach Velvet and Laphicet all the things you know and have them grow and prosper…
And you robbed them of all possibility.
History will come remember the name Shephard Artorius Colbrande. People will come to remember the title of Lord of Calamity. But they will never know the life of Arthur. They will never know the thoughts, feelings, emotions of a man. Just anecdotes and thoughts based on the many they believed they saw.
Nothing close to the truth.
Nothing more than a simple, insignificant speckle.
Nothing more than a man no different than any peasant, knight, or lord.
Nothing.
They never touched your heart. Oscar Dragonia, Teresa Linares, Ichiro 'Shirgure' Rangetsu, Melchior Mayvin. Maybe the closest companions you had.
All gone.
As you turn to see the last few shackles of the Empyrean break, you can only think of your family.
You've destroyed one.
The events that play as the darkness gathers around you
You've destroyed another.
"… Such a pity…"
This is how it feels to be the Lord Shephard Artorius Colbrande.
And now, nothing else matters.