Title: Savior
Author: Antigone
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: AU, Character Death
Summery: The road to hell is paved with the best intentions.
Warnings: Character Death
A/N - I apologize for the extended leave of absence I seem to have taken. If anyone remembers that I once frequented ff.net, I'd be rather surprised. But, in hopes of remedying that - a new fic. Short, naturally, but a start (ignores fact it was written months ago). A bit dark, but I hope you enjoy.
* * *
I saved the galaxy.
I saved it and yet will never be recognized as the preserver of the Republic. My name will be but a blip in the history books - if that - but I am not bitter. I served my purpose well and will be rewarded amply later.
They who called me insane, mocked my visions - their descendants will survive because of me. If they only knew what fools they are, what they owe to me, they would not relish in my injustice. But it is not their fault, for they know not what I know. They are not blessed with the sight.
I knew he was coming years before I first laid eyes upon him. I could feel him - in my mind. The touch of his presence I knew as well as I did my own. I knew his thoughts. And I knew what he would do.
Seeing them, those innocent beings, feeling their fear…I felt it as he felt it. I felt his apathy toward those in pain as if it were my own emotion - and it sickened me.
He is why they deemed me crazy. It was his fault! If he would have just left my head alone…
In the beginning, I felt his life and wept for him. Always surrounded by such suffering…I pitied him. I pitied him until I realized he was the cause of the suffering, not the sufferer.
The visions came with more frequency after my epiphany. I felt him kill countless beings. I saw them through his eyes - the visions were always through his eyes…Those faces will haunt my dreams for eternity. Even now, their likenesses remain, covering my walls. It is my tribute to those slaughtered - my duty to sketch them.
There are so many…my house is blanketed in paper and my fingers will never lose their charcoal tint.
I need my paper, there are more to honor…
How could one person cause so much pain? He had no remorse, slaughtering sentient creatures like nerf, one after the other.
I could feel him as he walked out of that spaceport. I knew that signature; it was a part of him and thereby a part of me. I knew I must act.
I searched the town, following the presence - and later the crowds. My mockers, in their sanity, were paying homage to this murderer. I pushed my way through the horde to the center - to him.
There were two, but I had no doubt which was he. How many times had I seen that damned braid whip through my mind?
I reached fluidly down into my right boot, not breaking my stride to unsheathe a small dagger, careful not to contact the blade. Immediately I saw his head perk up and blue eyes dart to his companion. The man - older, clad in the same brown robe - put a hand on the evil one's shoulder and whispered something - a warning one might guess - into his ear. I knew I would have to act quickly if I were to succeed.
Forcing my way to the front, I quickly lunged for his hand, bringing it to my lips in a gesture I'd seen so many of my fellows perform. Then, with a flick of my wrist, brought the short blade against his skin and pressed.
A small gasp escaped his lips as he jerked his hand back, bluish-gray eyes wide with surprise. He took a fraction of time to examine the superficial wound before turning attention to me - and by that time, I had slipped back into the throng.
I then watched - from a safe vantage point - the situation unfold. I saw the companion gently take his wrist and examine the wound - I could almost hear the words being spoken - his pigheaded assurance that the cut was minor and the companion's reluctant agreement. I watched as his footsteps faltered soon thereafter, the poison coursing through his system. His companion turned, brow creased in surprise, and caught him as the toxin performed it's task marvelously - and the demon collapsed. They sunk to the ground, the companion stunned as that sith-spawn began to convulse in his arms.
I looked with satisfaction as his chest fell for the final time, his life snuffed out in a matter of minutes. I felt no pity for him; he was a monster. His companion's reaction was what twinged my conscience…Utter confusion and pain…I do regret his suffering…The companion's silver hair spilled from its binding as he rocked the body, petting its ginger spikes rhythmically, composing himself before taking a final gaze into the thing's blue eyes then running his fingers over the lids, drawing them closed.
The mob had formed a circle around the two, morbidly mesmerized at the sight of the man's death. The spell, however, was soon broken and the people, thirsting for blood, came after me - perhaps my words had had an impact.
And they found me - laughing at the irony. I saved them all and in gratitude, they locked me away. Condemned me to death.
In the hours since that creature departed this world, he has seen fit to torment me with more visions. Payment for his death. This I will accept wholeheartedly, as I know now they will now never come to pass. I rest easy in that fact, resigned to my sentence.
I would, however, like to continue drawing the faces in my visions. Now my art will be not a monument to the dead, but a compilation of those who were saved. It seems wrong to neglect those in my most recent visions - a woman, her two children, and that man - the companion - from the pages.
* Fin *
Author: Antigone
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: AU, Character Death
Summery: The road to hell is paved with the best intentions.
Warnings: Character Death
A/N - I apologize for the extended leave of absence I seem to have taken. If anyone remembers that I once frequented ff.net, I'd be rather surprised. But, in hopes of remedying that - a new fic. Short, naturally, but a start (ignores fact it was written months ago). A bit dark, but I hope you enjoy.
* * *
I saved the galaxy.
I saved it and yet will never be recognized as the preserver of the Republic. My name will be but a blip in the history books - if that - but I am not bitter. I served my purpose well and will be rewarded amply later.
They who called me insane, mocked my visions - their descendants will survive because of me. If they only knew what fools they are, what they owe to me, they would not relish in my injustice. But it is not their fault, for they know not what I know. They are not blessed with the sight.
I knew he was coming years before I first laid eyes upon him. I could feel him - in my mind. The touch of his presence I knew as well as I did my own. I knew his thoughts. And I knew what he would do.
Seeing them, those innocent beings, feeling their fear…I felt it as he felt it. I felt his apathy toward those in pain as if it were my own emotion - and it sickened me.
He is why they deemed me crazy. It was his fault! If he would have just left my head alone…
In the beginning, I felt his life and wept for him. Always surrounded by such suffering…I pitied him. I pitied him until I realized he was the cause of the suffering, not the sufferer.
The visions came with more frequency after my epiphany. I felt him kill countless beings. I saw them through his eyes - the visions were always through his eyes…Those faces will haunt my dreams for eternity. Even now, their likenesses remain, covering my walls. It is my tribute to those slaughtered - my duty to sketch them.
There are so many…my house is blanketed in paper and my fingers will never lose their charcoal tint.
I need my paper, there are more to honor…
How could one person cause so much pain? He had no remorse, slaughtering sentient creatures like nerf, one after the other.
I could feel him as he walked out of that spaceport. I knew that signature; it was a part of him and thereby a part of me. I knew I must act.
I searched the town, following the presence - and later the crowds. My mockers, in their sanity, were paying homage to this murderer. I pushed my way through the horde to the center - to him.
There were two, but I had no doubt which was he. How many times had I seen that damned braid whip through my mind?
I reached fluidly down into my right boot, not breaking my stride to unsheathe a small dagger, careful not to contact the blade. Immediately I saw his head perk up and blue eyes dart to his companion. The man - older, clad in the same brown robe - put a hand on the evil one's shoulder and whispered something - a warning one might guess - into his ear. I knew I would have to act quickly if I were to succeed.
Forcing my way to the front, I quickly lunged for his hand, bringing it to my lips in a gesture I'd seen so many of my fellows perform. Then, with a flick of my wrist, brought the short blade against his skin and pressed.
A small gasp escaped his lips as he jerked his hand back, bluish-gray eyes wide with surprise. He took a fraction of time to examine the superficial wound before turning attention to me - and by that time, I had slipped back into the throng.
I then watched - from a safe vantage point - the situation unfold. I saw the companion gently take his wrist and examine the wound - I could almost hear the words being spoken - his pigheaded assurance that the cut was minor and the companion's reluctant agreement. I watched as his footsteps faltered soon thereafter, the poison coursing through his system. His companion turned, brow creased in surprise, and caught him as the toxin performed it's task marvelously - and the demon collapsed. They sunk to the ground, the companion stunned as that sith-spawn began to convulse in his arms.
I looked with satisfaction as his chest fell for the final time, his life snuffed out in a matter of minutes. I felt no pity for him; he was a monster. His companion's reaction was what twinged my conscience…Utter confusion and pain…I do regret his suffering…The companion's silver hair spilled from its binding as he rocked the body, petting its ginger spikes rhythmically, composing himself before taking a final gaze into the thing's blue eyes then running his fingers over the lids, drawing them closed.
The mob had formed a circle around the two, morbidly mesmerized at the sight of the man's death. The spell, however, was soon broken and the people, thirsting for blood, came after me - perhaps my words had had an impact.
And they found me - laughing at the irony. I saved them all and in gratitude, they locked me away. Condemned me to death.
In the hours since that creature departed this world, he has seen fit to torment me with more visions. Payment for his death. This I will accept wholeheartedly, as I know now they will now never come to pass. I rest easy in that fact, resigned to my sentence.
I would, however, like to continue drawing the faces in my visions. Now my art will be not a monument to the dead, but a compilation of those who were saved. It seems wrong to neglect those in my most recent visions - a woman, her two children, and that man - the companion - from the pages.
* Fin *