Warnings: Major character death, Canon character death, Canon-typical violence
I'm pretty sure that's it! Let me know if there are others I need to add.
This was a victory.
It had to be. There was nothing else it could be described as.
The battle had been won.
Meliodas was dead. Finally, after so long, he was dead.
How could this not be a victory?
It doesn't feel like one, though.
Maybe he's just going soft, or maybe they're all feeling like this, but… seeing Meliodas' mangled body brings no joy. Only a vile taste rises in his throat as he stares at the fallen demon. The bruised and bloodied corpse of his eldest brother. Zeldris doesn't feel an ounce of satisfaction gazing at it.
It looks wrong. It looks oh so wrong.
Meliodas wasn't supposed to look like this.
As annoying as it was, Meliodas had always been full of life. Even before he had met Elizabeth, and she had brought about the warmth Zeldris had grown to secretly admire and outwardly despise, Meliodas had never looked like this, had always been itching to move about and do something. Even if that something was destruction. After meeting Elizabeth, that had changed, of course, but that liveliness was always there. And, as far as Zeldris knew, it would always be there.
Except…
Except now it wasn't.
There was nothing alive about this husk. Missing an arm, and skin more black and blue and purple and stained red than it was pale, green eyes dull and not shining with a teasing glint, silenced. Chest completely still. Seven hearts in tatters just below seven slices.
Estarossa's swords had long since vanished, as the nine of them just stared at it.
Nine, because Galand was missing.
He should find out what happened to him. He wasn't dead, he couldn't be. Who could kill a commandment?
Zeldris' stomach churned. Meliodas used to be a commandment, was most definitely stronger than one. And here he was, dead.
He'd check later, ask Melascula about it later.
He spared a glance at the others. No one had moved, not after Estarossa had declared Meliodas dead. They'd have to go soon. Melascula was in no condition to fight again, one heart beating so slowly Zeldris could barely hear it. He did, though. It was utterly silent, the wind even falling still, the world seemingly coming to the realization that something great had happened.
Expressions all around were easy to read - as much as they all had prided on appearing numb, emotionless, even they weren't immune to slipping up.
Relief, because their worst enemy, their biggest block to achieving their - no, the Demon King's - goal now gone.
Mourning, because Meliodas wasn't just nobody, he had been a friend, a brother, someone they had either looked up to or cared deeply for.
And shock, because he had seemed untouchable, unbeatable, said to have been one of the strongest demons to exist and now here he was, dead.
Zeldris swallowed, and then took a deep breath, eyes back on Meliodas.
They should leave.
Meliodas' friends would come for him, for his corpse.
He felt even sicker, feeling the eyes far away watching them intently.
They had been watching, and are still watching. They had seen them slaughter Meliodas. They had seen the moment their only hope of winning was demolished.
The commandments had just cemented themselves as a force that couldn't be stopped. A force that should be feared by all. There wasn't anyone else who could have taken out someone like Meliodas, after all. Not in the eyes of the people in this age.
He couldn't bring himself to feel anything positive about that.
Zeldris looked to the others again, this time more closely.
Gloxinia and Drole were still, too still, and the light of the moon flickered against glassy eyes. Right, they had been friends with Meliodas. Close friends. They cared deeply for Meliodas, even after switching sides. Zeldris knew this, they had admitted it long ago one time when very very drunk. Beyond the tears they refused to let fall, though, Zeldris saw exhaustion. They were about ready to drop right beside Melascula. It only made sense, they had fought against Meliodas before everyone had gotten there, and would have possibly been beaten too.
Zeldris couldn't see Estaross's face, but Zeldris could hear his breaths shudder, see the way Estarossa's shoulders rose and fell unevenly every so often, arms drawn tight to keep himself from completely crumbling. If it wouldn't have been seen as weak, and if Zeldris wasn't afraid of what their father would think, always watching, Zeldris would have hugged him. Not even to comfort Estarossa, but to comfort himself.
Grayroad… Zeldris could never tell what she was feeling. There wasn't exactly an expression he could read. But Grayroad wasn't floating so high at the moment, Zeldris would even use the term drooping to describe her. Pulled close and tilted forward ever so slightly, as though bowing her head and staring at the ground, not looking at the demon prince.
Derieri wasn't looking at Meliodas either, staring at the ground, an odd mix of relief and shock on her face. The anger from before seemed to have completely dissolved, her aggression taken out in the punches that had helped in bringing Meliodas to this point. Monspeet stood beside her, hand twitching to reach up and rest on her shoulder but he resisted. He had always been attached to Derieri, and even when he looked so conflicted himself, maybe unsure whether he was supposed to be grateful or grieving the fact that Meliodas had been ended, he still seemed to want to comfort her first.
And Fraudrin, Zeldris didn't look at him for too long. But the look of disappointment, and a twinge of sadness, was on the human's face. Human, because Fraudrin was still inhabiting that body, for some reason. He was unharmed, completely unharmed, and the sadness couldn't have been from Fraudrin himself, who really had no reason to care for Meliodas. It had to have been the human coming through, maybe they had been friends once, or something like that. Fraudrin though would definitely feel disappointment, of course he would, maybe he was hoping for more of a challenge, or another chance at beating Meliodas further into the ground before Estarossa had killed him.
Zeldris took another deep breath. They had overstayed, now. They had to leave.
You weren't supposed to leave right after a victory.
You were supposed to celebrate, right? Zeldris thinks he remembers celebrating victories, so long ago. Big parties as they cheered over the deaths of enemies. Lots of drinking and food and conversation as stories of increasingly grand battles flowed about.
Maybe this wasn't a victory.
Zeldris couldn't imagine celebrating this.
"Let's go," he murmured, making no motion to move just yet. He had looked back to Meliodas. Dull eyes stared up at Estarossa, and something selfish in Zeldris was glad he wasn't the one who had dealt the final blow. He understood why Estarossa would cry, standing there, having those cold eyes that were supposed to be warm no matter what forever frozen on him. Zeldris knows if it were him, he'd do worse than cry.
Fraudrin was the first to move, walking quietly to carefully rearrange and pick up Melascula. They'd have to be very careful. As much as Zeldris may not like her, she's too annoying sometimes, even he would feel bad if she died. She was still a close comrade, losing her would hurt too.
Estarossa moved next, turning. Gloxinia floated down to land on solid ground. Grayroad prepared for the feeling of teleporting to overwhelm them all. Drole reached down to let Fraudrin place Melascula in one of his hands. Zeldris took another breath, also turning.
As they began to teleport away, Zeldris heard her. Elizabeth. Calling for Meliodas.
Tears finally stung his eyes.
The commandments all disappeared, and Zeldris, though miles away, could hear the heart wrenching cry when Elizabeth finally found Meliodas.
His hearts hurt, and as he moved to help his comrades prepare for healing, he lets just a few tears streak down his face.
This wasn't a victory.
Not by a long shot.