I tried to kill my pain, but only bled more

I lay dying, and I'm pouring crimson regret and betrayal

I'm dying, praying, bleeding, and screaming

Am I too lost to be saved?

Am I too lost?--Evanescence, "Tourniquet"

I walked out into the rain, and wondered at what I had just done.

"Good Evening Lord Eliwood." A cheerful voice with underlying mischief greeted me.

"Good Evening Matthew." I smiled habitually, never betraying my thoughts. My cold, bloody thoughts of death.

"Lord Hector was looking for you." Matthew said with a smile that guilty people often wore. He had just done something he was going to get in big trouble for if he was caught.

"I'll see him soon." I lied. I had not intention of seeing him again, or anyone. Then why the note? A soft voice that was becoming more and more nagging by the day asked. I smothered it bitterly, and walk off. The wind threw cold drops of rain against my face, the weather mirroring my thoughts. My sword clanked at my side, a familiar weight I had brought with me purely out of habit. I wouldn't need it. Why would I, when I was just going to die. I slipped up, and leaned against a tent, watching Erk shift from foot to foot as he watched the horizon. I grabbed my sword to silence its jangles, and walked softly up behind the sage. With a quick movement the sage was toppled over onto the ground, and I rolled him over to keep him from suffocating in the mud. I pull his hood over his head to keep the rain from drowning him, and started off.

I needed to leave, and there was nothing that could stop me. The things that had begun to bother me was that I seemed to be two different people. It was supposed to be just me, but it seemed to be two people battling for control. One wanted to leave, to go away and never come back. Never see other people again, and hate them while they were there. The other person wanted to talk. It wanted human companionship, and was nagging me to talk to Hector, listen to what he had said about caring.

I couldn't listen to the second person. Hector couldn't care. He would have said something before now. Before I was so dependant on my pain for escape, before I had sunken so low. If he truly was my friend he would have seen the pain when it first started. He would have known why I had turned out this way. I knew myself now, and it was painfully obvious to me. Why couldn't he see it?

He was a cold-hearted noble, just like the rest with more of a temper. He only looked out for my interests when it suited his mood, and his purpose. He didn't really want to know what was wrong with me, but wouldn't it be nice to say he had dragged the Marquess of Pheare out of his own personal Hell? Wouldn't it bring attention to him to exploit the sickening behavior he brought down?

I clenched my hands, and barely noticed where I was. I was set in my resolve. I couldn't break through the cold first person to the second even if reason had allowed. This was truly who I was it seemed. A cold heartless being who only lived for their pain, but why did I care about so many things? Why had I wanted to prove them wrong? To do something right? I growled in frustration, and slipped in the mud. I sat there, feeling like a out of place child. My legs sprawled out in an undignified position, and my face wearing the shocked of someone who has yet realize they've fallen.

I pulled myself up, my white pants covered in mud, and trudged on a little further. I finally stopped, more for the need to get it over with then anything else. As I sank down to the ground I felt weary, and regretful. I looked up into the falling rain, smiled my hollow smile into it. The mask that had been my refuge for so long, and it still clung to me even after it had betrayed me. Betrayed to the one person I hated the most. The one person maternal love hadn't warded off the attempts to hate and replaced them with a burning desire to please. I laughed, the masked laugh. Seemingly so full of life, but underneath a hollow shell. I drew the dagger from my sleeve the blade shape as it had always been. I placed it in my lap, staring at it. Something slipped on my head, sliding in my soaked hair.

I reached up and absently turned the object off my head, and held it in my hands loosely. The thin circlet of gold I wore to remind me who I was. The light, minuscule etching of the Phearen crest on it made my heart leap. It dragged my thoughts to home, the high castle wall, the sprawling gardens. That was who I was. I was Eliwood of Pheare. No, I was Eliwood, Marquess of Pheare. My father was dead, I was the leader of Pheare now. Off to seek revenge. Others could do that. Someone else could right Nergal's wrong. I just wanted to leave. I would rather die, then face what I would have to living. I was weak, and simpering.

I dropped the circlet to my lap, and picked up the knife from where it lay. Water slid off its smooth surface, running down the hilt into my sleeve. I shivered, soaked to the skin, cold, and alone. I slid my sleeve up, baring my wrist. I knew all to well where to cut. I had spent time beyond count playing with the idea, letting my knife rest on the place, toying with how quick it would be to just do it.

This time was different from all those other times; this time I was really going to do it. No toying, no second thoughts.

I lay the knife across my wrist, pressing down gently, feeling my skin give away under the keen edge. I watched in morbid fascination as the blood welled up, and was washed away by the ever falling rain. I drew the blade across my wrist quickly, bringing forth a fresh spray of blood that mixed with the rain and ran quickly off my hand. I switched the knife to my cut hand, and clumsily bared the other wrist. I drew the knife across it, and dropped it from my hands. The rain numbed the pain, making hard to feel anything. I was wasn't wearing a cloak, or anything that would keep the rain off me. I was soaked to the skin, and shivering.

I watched the blood drip onto my circlet, and saw again Pheare, my home, and the many smiling faces who had greeted me when I was there last. I shook my head. This was how it was to be. Nothing could change that. Nothing could save me now. I hunched over my bleeding wrists the knife falling from my lap, but the circlet stayed there, pressing into the bare flesh of my arm. I laughed softly, and found it hard to stop. Something was funny, but I couldn't see why.

The hysterical giggles died away, and I was left feeling tired again, light headed, and foggy. Something brushed against my nose, and a figure walked stealthily by. I wondered who they were; I didn't recognize them. The figure stopped, and stooped down. It held a book in it's hands, muttering to itself about something. I wondered if they knew I was lying here, so close I could have killed them. But I was dying myself, and dirty, mud and blood covered child cowering away from life.

Why did I keep comparing myself to a child? I wasn't that any longer, and would never be again. What child lay bleeding from wounds they had purposely given themselves? I wasn't a child, and I couldn't go back to those days when I had been happy. Oblivious to everything, and smiling truly. How long had it been since I'd really smiled? How long had it been since I laughed in pure mirth with out a shadow hanging over my soul? Far too long, and it would never happen again.

"Eliwood!" Someone yelled. I jerked my head up, my breath hitching in my throat. The figure crouched away from me never looked at me, and stared intently in front of it. I heard the frightened, shrill whinny of a horse, and a cry from a human. I rolled forward to the balls of my feet instinctively, and waited with held breath. I couldn't hear much now, the rain was falling harder, and I was getting dizzy. The figure moved from its cover and into the open.

"Thunder." The figure commanded, spreading its fingers out. Magic crackled on the fingers, and flashed to attack. In the brief light I saw a tall armored figure with blue hair. I gasped slightly as he went down, my heart suddenly in my throat. I hated him, but it hurt something to see him attacked like that. Dirty underhanded while he was preoccupied with another surprise attack. It was just a fighters honor, I tried to tell myself, but as the mage raised his hand for another attack, I couldn't sit there.

I jumped to my feet, and staggered while the world went black. I slammed into a tree, and blinked furiously to get the spots out of my vision. My knees gave out, and I fell to the ground. I couldn't just sit here, and not do anything. I had to get up. Something was prodding me, yelling for me to get up right now. I watched in terrified fascination as the mage held up its hand to call down another attack on Hector. My heart was pounding, blood leaving my body faster then it had been.

"HECTOR!" The cry was ripped from my mouth, the pain in it my own. I pushed myself to my feet, and drew my sword clumsily. The mage whirled around, meeting my blade with his own attack. I slipped in the mud, and went down. The attack flew over my head, and I twisted over. With a lurch I pushed my rapier up, and through the mage's stomach. Blood sprayed across my face, arms, and I hissed in pain as the body landed on top of me. I rolled it over, shaking with the effort, and cold. I left the body lying there with my rapier sticking in it, and crawled over to where Hector lay.

Why did I want to know if he was alright? I hated him, and even then as I looked at him, and knew I had just saved him, I hated him. I clenched my hands, and sat staring at him, hating him, knowing it was my last time to hate him, to look at him, or anything at all. The last person I had killed had been to save him. He wasn't even going to thank me. He looked at me with wide eyes, but his pupils were too wide, and I smiled. He had been blinded the attack. It wasn't but temporary, and I knew he would be able to see me soon. I swayed, and caught myself unsteadily. I couldn't stay awake much longer. I chuckled mirthlessly.

Hector blinked, and stared at me. "Eliwood?"

I laughed, it was fringed with humor. "No you dolt, I'm an angel come to take you away, who do you think I am?" I asked hoarsely.

"Wha-, did you just." His mind was slowly catching up with what had happened.

"I did." I smiled, and fell forward slightly. "I hate you." I muttered.

"Then why did you just save me?" Hector asked, his voice strained.

"Because, something told me to, and I'm not going to carry out many more whims then that one. That was my last one." I blinked as Hector became very fuzzy around the edges. "It's done."

"Eliwood." He grabbed at my arm, but I fell back. "Stop it, I can still get you help."

"I just saved you! Can't you give me one favor and let me die?" I asked harshly. "Can't you just let me go? I hate you!"

"I know that, but I don't know why! You have to stay alive so you can tell me that." Hector snapped, grabbing my arm, and yanking me forward. In my weakened state I fell forward, nearly collapsing in his lap.

"No," I chuckled, the world fading fast. "It's too late, just tell them the truth. Maybe you should have told everyone to begin with, but maybe's don't fly in winter."

"Eliwood, don't!" I smiled, and let my eyes drift shut, the world was gone anyway.

A/N:Ehe....... So, thanks for all the reviews, and if you review for this chapter I'll get the next chapter up PDQ. No, it's not the last chapter, at least two more, not counting the epilouge. See you! .