A Single Mistake
Dedicated to someone none of you will ever know.
"Leave them." Harken muttered to himself. "They are not my enemy; I must get close to that man and avenge the death of my liege, Lord Elbert . . ." He wrapped his fingers around the hilt of his Brave Sword, and he charged into the bustling melee. Harken ignored several Mages who were striking blindly with several Thunder tomes, and even a Bishop with a Purge tome.
"A Hero?" questioned one, a Mage with a vicious-looking Elfire tome. The purple-haired Mage began waving a hand swiftly over his Elfire tome, muttering furiously. "Fire of the pits of damnation, lend me your strength. Burn this man with e'erlasting incandescence . . . Elfi-"
"Erk, look out!" shrieked a pink-haired cleric. Harken's sword ripped briefly through the magical book before slicing open the chest of this 'Erk'. The Mage collapsed in silence, and Harken was dimly aware of the cleric draping herself across the body of 'Erk', the blood staining her robe a gruesome faded red. The Pheraen felt a minor twinge of guilt, but brushed it aside. The greater good was at stake. He had to avenge not only the death of Lord Elbert, but the death of every single one of his friends and comrades in the Knights of Pherae.
It was inpossible to tell who was Black Fang and who belonged to this mysterious force that opposed them.
To Harken's right, a blue-armoured Paladin was holding off three Wyvern Rider's. This Paladin was truly skilled, as his Iron Axe was making a disgusting mess on the snow, tainting it black. Wyvern's shrieked and bucked, and the bodies of them and their riders were piling up on the snow. Harken proceeded up to the Paladin's unprotected back and carved through the armour, sending the female rider toppling to the ground as her horse collapsed from under her. The Bern Wyvern Rider's wisely bolted, leaving the Hero and the axe-wielding Paladin to their battle.
"I once knew a Paladin as skilled as you." Harken said. "I left her in Pherae when I went on my quest." Behind the visor, the Paladin's eyes narrowed. Who was this Hero? He was her enemy, at any rate, and she slashed horizontally at his chest. Harken quickly manouvered his shield to block, and his sword whirled defensively, chopping through the shaft and effectively destroying the axe. The Knight of Pherae continued his move, his Brave Sword carving across the girl's belly. It wounded her badly, but did not kill her. The Paladin's breathing became shallow and erratic.
Harken raised his sword for the final plunge . . . and buried the sword deep into her heart.
"Harken . . ." she whispered, before collapsing. The Hero seized up, as things began to unravel as to who this woman was. His brain had figured out the identity of the Paladin, but he didn't want to believe it.
"Please . . . tell me it's not you. Please . . ." he whispered shakingly.
"Isadora! No!" bellowed a flame-haired youth, wielding a Rapier. Harken gave a start. Lord Eliwood of Pherae was here! Then the rider he killed . . .
With trembling fingers, he lifted the visor. Isadora's face lay behind the metal mesh. Isadora, the one he loved, the one he'd sworn to protect. He'd killed her without hesitation. His heart froze, and his breath caught in his throat. It was her. His fianceé. Why . . . no, how on earth did she get here! It was impossible! And yet the fact remained; she was here, and slain by his own hands.
Eliwood was rushing over, his Rapier at the ready.
"Get away from her!" he snarled, slicing at Harken's back. The sword pinged off the armour, leaving a score but no mark on flesh. The Hero didn't respond, and Eliwood was puzzled. Instead of countering, his enemy had slumped over Isadora's body and started to cry. Why would a random enemy be so touched by Isadora's death? Surely, it couldn't be . . .
"Harken?" he asked hesitantly.
"Lord Eliwood . . ." he sobbed, his Brave Sword held loosely in his hand.
"Harken!" Eliwood cried, joyous in this chance meeting. "You're alive! But Isadora . . ." he trailed off, when he realized.
"Oh, Harken. I'm so sorry." he said, trying to comfort the distraught Hero.
"Lord Eliwood . . . you don't understand . . ." he explained, his eyes bright with tears. The youth tried to ease Harken's pain further. "Harken, it wasn't your fault . . ."
"I killed her!" he snarled. "I couldn't tell who was friend, who was foe . . . and I killed her!" Eliwood watched, stupefied, as Harken explained his whole ordeal. The self-hate, the pity, the pain, the grief, all the emotions he had felt on this trip were evident in his voice. Eliwood had worked with Harken in Pherae . . . but he had changed.
"The least I can do . . ." Harken muttered. "If I cannot be with her in life . . . I will be with her in death!"
And he plunged the blade deep into his heart.
Eliwood opened his mouth to say something, to act . . . but it was far too late. Maybe it was for the best, he reflected, as the Hero's body slumped into the snow next to the body of Isadora. He had lost his liege, he had lost all of his friends in the fight against Nergal. And now he had killed the woman he loved. Eliwood pictured the death of Lyndis, Hector, Marcus, Lowen, and all his friends. Then he imagined how he would feel if he had accidently killed Ninian. It would break him, the way it had so obviously broken Harken.
Eliwood turned and walked away from the carnage. It would be a long time before he slept soundly again. The Knights of Pherae had truly been destroyed.
Behind him, the Pheraen youth did not notice tiny smiles appear on the faces of Harken and Isadora. They had finally found each other.
This is my last Angst/Tragedy fic for a while, so sorry to those who were enjoying them. If I get five e-mails or more from different people, I'll keep going. But you WILL have to e-mail me. My e-mail is in my Profile Page. A reminder to read and review.