Blood will have blood, they say.
They say it will have blood.
Blood splattered across the thirsty red earth, splashed across the faded tabard and stained the worn, dented mail that protected him.
She was so tiny...
Why was there so much blood?
The sudden question made him jerk, the movement bringing forth more blood, the tortured look on her looking more and more like... agony and defeat with each passing second.
Their heartbeats...
Her labored breathing...
The hollow screams that echoed around them here as they stood, knocking on death's door.
"Kin...slayer." She gasped, and he warned her to save her breath.
His arm twisted...
Death surrounded them here... blood was swiftly pooling, quenching the thirst of the earth.
They were the last.
This twisted lovers' embrace was all they had left.
His sword inside her.
Her fists clenched around his arms, as if to push him away, or pull him closer.
Her breath heaved.
The look in her eyes was unforgettable as she took in the coloring and markings of the ones who lay dead all around them.
"Kinslayer."
She kept whispering it over and over again, past the crimson life that leaked from her, trailed down her chin and neck, making a path that led down between her breasts, soaking into her leather armor.
He lifted a hand and touched her face, her haunted eyes starting to become unfocused. He dragged his thumb across her lip, stared down and into her eyes, the hand that held the sword, steady.
He barely breathed...
Moving, breathing meant stealing more of what little life she bore from her.
"Time... time to die... die poor mates." She whispered to the others, more life flowing forth in a thick crimson stream.
He still held a hand to her face, a smile touching his lips.
"You made me what I am." He told her. Her whispers grew frantic, her pounding heart spilling blood forth to soak into the ever thirsty earth.
"Your praying is in vain. It'll be over soon." He stroked her cheek gently, gently, the hilt of the sword twisting in his hand. He didn't twist it hard... he twisted slowly...
Slowly...
She choked something out through a fresh spray of blood, something that made his heart ache with rage and agony and regret.
"Kinslayer."
"You called me lover once."
"Kinslayer."
"You'll die with that word burned into your skin."
"Kinslayer..."
She died with the word she uttered again and again passing her lips once more, as he slammed the sword forward, into and through her broken body.
When she lay limp and lifeless in his arms, he wished he had kissed her then, wiped the word away.
But no.
It was he who was branded now.
Blood will have blood, they say...
They say it will have blood.
Soaked with her blood, her human blood, the sword that had torn her from him clutched in his hand...
He answered the call of the whisperes there, screaming all around him.
Blood will have blood...
"Kinslayer."
The sword parted flesh easily, ate through bone and entrails.
"Kinslayer."
The whispers persisted... he couldn't escape them.
"Kinslayer... kinslayer... kinslayer"
Wounds tried to heal.
Flesh and blood to regenerate.
Teeth grit and gnashing as he let the blood spill, twisted the sword to keep it flowing, he obeyed the call.
One left, only one left... no kinslayer let a single one go.
"Kinslayer... kinslayer... kinslayer..."
A little more to the left.
Twisting the blade.
Blood spilling...
"Kinslayer..."
The sword slid up without difficulty, his strong arms guiding it.
"Kinslayer!"
His heart cleaved, and with a jerk, a single spasm, he crumpled forward to join her.
"KINSLAYER!"
The whispers died.
It was as though a sigh escaped her at last... a sigh of releif.
No more whispers.
No more whispers, or beating hearts.
Only blood.
Blood, being consumed by the thirsty earth.
Their blood... mingled.
It will have blood.
Blood will have blood, they say.
They say it will have blood.