A/N: So, um, there is only one chapter left after this one. And just as a warning, this chapter is going to be pretty graphic.

"The hopes were high
The choirs were vast
Now my dreams are left to live through you"

Higher Than Hope – Nightwish

Chapter 11

The sun was warm upon their faces. It poured into them; no cloud or mist blocked them from the light and warmth. The land here was strange, no tree could be seen anywhere, they were greeted only with rocky mountains and dusty hard ground. The ocean roared to their left, the coloured mimicked by the sky.

Mr. 114 threw his arms in the air, soaking in the light and the unfamiliar land around him. If he didn't know the village lay beyond those hills he would've wished to be back with the grass and woods of the Mist Continent. He saw Mr. 239 squinting in the light; he sighed deeply and appeared more relaxed now that the tunnel was behind them.

"Which way do you go now Mr. 239?" Mr. 114 asked, his voice adopting the naive playful tone of Mr. 57.

Mr. 239 smiled under the veil of blackness and shifted the bag on his shoulder. "I'm not too sure, nothing here is on that map. But I think we should go through the passage over there, but lets rest first."

He dropped his bag onto the rocky ground and was about to sit when he heard something that didn't seem right…

"Do you hear that?" Mr. 114 asked hearing the same sound, gazing around to find the source. Mr. 239 listened hard and heard what sounded like breaths, footsteps… no, not footsteps… What was that…?

Mr. 114 heard the sound behind him, and turned slowly. All that met him was the darkness of the tunnel's exit, but he could hear that sound…

And in one movement that seemed to rip into time and sanity, a giant animal leap from the dark cave, its dark wings spread behind it as it threw its long, black talons straight into Mr. 114's chest. The giant griffin squeals a high tone and all the mage sees is a white flash as he is knocked flat onto the ground. His weakly made body shattering as it makes contact with the rocky ground, his spine shattering in a single painful millisecond. The talons release themselves from the lung, rib and flesh of the mage as a sudden burst of fire blinds the beast's eyes, sending it screaming back down into the black tunnel.

The sky was still a perfect blue, Mr. 114 noticed, as he lay there broken on the uneven rock-strewn terrain. His eyes close for what seems like hours, he feels the open wounds in his chest as the wind stings them. His lungs struggle to take in air as they slowly collapse, broken ribs spread into his lungs, stomach and other organs he was not aware of. He opens his fading eyes, the sky was spinning it seemed, he tried to turn his neck to see the damage but was awarded only with white hot pain from his shattered spine. All feeling is suddenly lost from his lower body, and rises like an advancing wave. Although he felt the blood pouring into his mouth and the lungs collapse, he felt almost no pain.

Suddenly a figure moves into view above him, it is shaky and blends in with the sky. It seemed to be alive and panicking, its breath fast and erratic. It speaks words that don't have meaning as Mr. 114 coughs up dark blood onto his hidden face. But the voice is familiar. It is Mr. 239 isn't it? Yes… Mr. 239…

"Holy shit! Mr. 114 can you hear me? Oh god, please be okay…" He cries, tears falling into Mr. 114's face, his body is shaking and the look in his yellow eyes cannot mean anything good.

"I can't feel anything… Mr. 2-3-… Am I…" Mr. 114 whispers, between gasps of air and coughs of blood, his eyes growing brighter then darker, his body seemed completely erratic. "Do I look… okay…?"

Mr. 239 looks over his body in disbelief, panic growing stronger as the seconds passed. How so much damage could be done in one blow in beyond his understanding. He cannot bear to look upon the broken body of what was Mr. 114. He cannot bear the thought that he may lose him too; he could not fail them both. Oh please… not Mr. 114…

"Don't worry about that…" Mr. 239 tries to be comforting as he tries to keep his tears within the blackness of his face.

Mr. 114 could hear the ocean. He watched on through fazed and dizzy vision as Mr. 239 ripped through his bag, throwing potions this way and that. He heard the bottles shatter against the rocks. Shatter the way he had. Nausea began to kick in as his organs twisted and struggled against the open wounds and broken ribs. He only had just realized, that he was so hurt, he could not move at all. He wouldn't move would he? Was he to join Mr. 57?

"Mr… 3-9… A-am I broken?"

With that he feels his eyes begin to fade into the rest of the hidden existence. Mr. 239 starts crying out to him. But his voice is far away now, because Mr. 114 was falling into the sky. Up into the mist-less sky. He waded slowly through the ocean of the sky, waves of cloud and mist brushing against him. He emerges through the water of the sky and onto that beach, ocean air rushing past in giant gusts of wind.

The beach suddenly erupted into smoke, smoke so black that when he saw the fires burning he saw the black mages face: Inky, black smoke of a face, eyes of raging fire. He raises his hands to guard his eyes from the sting. And there emerging from the fires he could see the burning mages, all without faces as they march hollowly through the smoke, all of them on fire.

Mr. 114 turns to run, he runs through miles and miles of endless plains and twisted forests. Mist hangs low to his face; he feels it as he inhales the gas, twisting his mist-filled body. And there is Mr. 239, lying on the forest ground. He is yelling words he can't understand, words that belonged to humans. Anger and sadness are all that surrounds the yelling mage. Mr. 114 turns away sadly, he never understood Mr. 239.

He watched through unseeing eyes as stone rose from the ground, forming the unmistakable scene of a human village. Lightning was striking the buildings. And in the middle of the town stood Mr. 57. His mouth opened and gasped air, and he cried out as loud as thunder "Mr. 114! Mr. 114! Come back! Come back!" His broken voice is stained with fear. Mr. 114 runs to him, but Mr. 57 has snapped, his mind filled with incomplete programming. Fire bursts in a world of ice and Mr. 114 feels his hands burn, burning through his skin and down, down to his bones.

But Mr. 57 grabs his hands, and they are healed. Stone surrounds them now. Mr. 239 was glowing with knowledge nearby. Mr. 57 beaming and laughing, his cheery voice echoing throughout the stone forest. Mr. 239 comes to Mr. 114 and runs his hands down his arms, and Mr. 114 feels blood pour down as the wound opens. His hands slip out of Mr. 239's and Mr. 57's as he is suddenly pulled upwards through the sky, droplets of blood rising up like reversed rain. And he is pulled back onto a plateau, soldiers with gleaming swords and armor all around.

Mr. 114 feels himself become rigid, as his body is suddenly their tool. He is pushed down dark tunnels that never end, whispers of war, killing and laughter are all around. Flashes of sun pass his face, he reaches out of it but it escapes him. The stone tunnels twist and distort as he passes through, pushed by the grinning guards all holding the gleaming swords at eye level. He marches in time with the soldiers as the castle appears around him. The Queen is watching from high above. The cold man smiles cruelly at him. Soon he is descending down flights of steep stone steps, remembering the beginning he tries to turn and flee but cannot control his body as it following the crowd of soldiers escorting him further and further down.

Finally, he is thrown into the storage room. He hits the hard, damp ground and feels himself shake, the eyes of everyone on him. He is surrounded by empty black mages, all sharing his face. They all stand around him as he stays lying on the cold floor. He finally pushes himself up off the floor. His eyes are met by the special guard. Her one eye glaring at him, she raises her sliver and red blade and points it to his face. He closes his eyes fearing the worst. But nothing comes.

His eyes ease open to find he is in the room all alone. All the soldiers and mages have disappeared and so has the door. In panic he rushes around the room, trying to find a way out… there must be, where can he go? He has to get out! He can't stay there…

He collapses into space. Supported by the comforts of sleep, he drifts through dreams. He sees the dead forests, the owls, and the invisible wall of water. He moves in a trance, eyes sleepy and tired. He enters the village. There are black mages all around. They laugh and talk, living in cozy homes. Growing plants, opening shops, playing human games. He sees them cry and laugh, they are real. They are free. He closes his eyes in wonder, and he thinks this is where we belong.

Soon the dream fades and he feels air passing into his broken lungs. The sun is still pouring down upon him, lying in the rocks, Mr. 239 is crying. No time has passed although it feels as if he had just relived his entire life. His faded yellow eyes rest upon Mr. 239, torn with guilt and sadness. The ocean is roaring somewhere near.

"Mr. 239." Mr. 114 speaks, surprisingly clear. "Don't let this get in the way."

Mr. 239 raises his face in surprise, his eyes wide with pain and confusion. He opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out but stale air. But his question is heard without speaking it.

"Don't let this get in the way of getting there. That is where you belong. Where we all belong… I can't… I can't continue on. But don't stop now. Please, go there. Be happy. None of this was your fault."

Mr. 239 stares on in shock, his mind soaking the words in, words that will never be forgotten. He closes his eyes, fighting back tears. "I understand… I think." He whispers slowly.

Mr. 114 smiles against the advancing pain, "Thank you Mr. 239, for everything…"

Mr. 239 looks up, he wants to scream, to stop Mr. 114 from leaving. But it's all inevitable, he understands. He takes Mr. 114's hand to try and comfort himself. Choking on tears, he tries to smiles against himself.

Mr. 114 holds the hand tightly, his eyes fade, and the pain was leaving.

The eyes disappear into the mystery of darkness, the breath ends, the soul moves on. Mr. 239 lets go of the lifeless hand and scoops the body up into one last embrace.

A/N: ….I promised I wouldn't cry! Sorry, sorry about all that. Wonwingangel called it. I guess my writing can be predictable.

So while I'm at it, if anyone wants to send me messages for either Mr. 57 or Mr. 114's graves send them! I'm going to have a joint funeral for them sometime in the future. But hey, at least they are together eh?

One chapter left, please review!