A/n: This was written for the third challenge on the Royai fiction lj. Instead of a theme we had to include a number of things, such as a wilted flower (I'm too tired to go check and see what the other ones were, lol). So I hope you all enjoy, it's an Ishbal drabble (gotta love pre-series stuff).:)

#3 Save

The desert sun bakes his insides, drying them out until they're nothing but dust.

His throat cries for water but he ignores it, all his attention focused on the soldier in his arms.

The soldier with the beautiful red eyes and deadly shot.

She lays unconscious in his hold, knocked out from flying debris.

Around him other soldiers try to escape the battlefield, crawling on their hands and knees.

Some only crawl on their hands, their legs blown apart, now nothing more than bloody stumps.

He stumbles over corpses left and right, some from the enemy's side, others from his own.

He can't tell the difference, his eyes are caked in blood and sand, he can't see who is friend and who is foe.

All he knows is they're dead.

All dead.

The bodies are like wilted flowers, slowly wasting and rotting away until there is nothing left.

His foot hits a corpse, it's flesh sizzles and pops in the intense heat.

He recognizes the smell of charred flesh anywhere.

It's his signature.

His grip tightens on the soldier, pulling her closer to him.

He buries her face into the crook of his shoulder.

Does he hope to protect her from the smell?

From the sight?

From everything?

He just wants her safe, that's all he cares about.

Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust, that's what happens to all who enter hell.

As flesh peels from bodies, and their bones turn to dust, they become one with the desert.

They become the desert.

They become hell.

They become nothing.

Redemption from sin is too much to ask.

His soul is damned.

He cannot gain absolution.

But the damned can still see light.

He cannot save himself, but he can save others.

He will protect those who cannot protect themselves.

He will keep them from the pain, the death, the war.

He will be their guardian, their protector.

He'll take it one step at a time, he can be patient.

He starts with one person: the soldier in his arms.

The woman with the beautiful red eyes and deadly shot.

She will be the first one he saves.

END